Orgasm comes to me seldom recently — or even the urge for it. With health challenging me more,  I’m thankful just to have enough energy to function in my daily life, to find time to work on this project.  I choose to let go of the voice that says, “How can I keep writing about it when I don’t even try?”  I’m blessed that my passion for the project persists, that it actually energizes me to write.  (I even have to be careful to moderate the adrenaline rush!)

But still, it would be nice….

Waking one morning, I was in that liminal state where tatters of a dream spun around me, and awareness was pulling me out of it.  I was on a hill, with winds rushing to and fro, clouds tumbling around a full moon, my hair and clothes flying….  No sense of danger, just exhilaration, energy, excitement. It felt great. Something was happening. I was fading from that place, but it was okay, I felt relaxed and happy. Without any intention, my hand cupped over my mons and rocked gently on top of my pants … and I came, with a gentle, sweet orgasm.

Still half asleep, I lay still and rested in the glow that cradled me. 

This was not one of those earth-shattering orgasms I used to crave.  Not a transcendent experience. I put absolutely no effort into it.  I wasn’t hungry for it, or even thinking about sex.  In a way, it wasn’t even sex… at least as I have known it!  It was just a spontaneous natural occurrence, like the wind.

Clearly there’s more yet to experience.