I was thinking about orgasms the other day…and ponies. More about the latter in a bit but I started thinking about orgasms from the internet where first I saw women attempt to sing during an orgasm then others, in a completely different forum, read a passage from a book during one. And I thought about the different orgasms I’ve seen and I realized that mostly it’s an age thing. Not always, but mostly orgasms changed as women got older…at least from my perspective.
I think you know what I mean.
For example, when a woman is young, an orgasm is like a surprise gift, something quite unexpected but definitely wanted. Like an untamed pony; quietly standing there until she gets on then it’s a mad rush to try to unseat her. It’s in her eyes—as it happens—with happy confusion crossing concerned delight crossing with…eventually uncontrollable giggles and smiles. There is no real control but simply holding on with legs pressed together and riding it out.
As she gets older, the pony grows up and she learns how to make the pony do simple tricks and go in the directions she wants, not where the pony wants…most of the time. In some cases, though, the pony gets spooked and takes off like a madman toward the hills and, again, it’s hold on until eventual collapse…and less giggling but always, always smiles.
Later in life, the pony is fully trained—if just a little tired—and does exactly what’s it’s supposed to do in the exact way it’s supposed to do. In some cases the pony has to be forced to keep going because it just doesn’t have the stamina or desire it once had. Again, it’s in her eyes, the determination and drive, the need to finish the ride successfully. At the end it’s less giggles, not as many smiles but definitely a sense of completion and satisfaction not gotten anywhere else.
And then there are the women who never got a pony…
…at least think there are.
Believe. Go. Do.