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Wandering Clitoris - an underdiagnosed cause of sexual dysfunction

Inspired by a non-sequitur from MainMinx.

WARNING: Starts off a bit HOT!

************

She lay back, stretching her body into a fine feline arch. A sheen of sweat was beginning to form on her skin. Languidly she relaxed into the position she most favored, one leg far enough akimbo to grant unfettered access for her new lover, the infamous Flashman of the Blogging World, Soldier of Fortune, winner and breaker of hearts, commitment coward and lovable blackguard, E@L hisself!

"Oooh, you know your way around down there, my darling lover."

E@L, being a gentleman, muffled a polite acknowledgement: "Mmrff mot ffrmm mrgg mlmf." (Roughly translated, "I didn't spend 2 years working with gynaecologists and learn nothing, sweetheart...")

E@L carefully isolated her red M&M of love between two fingers of his right hand. He decided to eat this one first. He flicked it lightly with his tongue.

"Yes, yes, oh yes..." she swooned.

He kept flicking and she kept a running appreciation of his tender ministrations. He alternated the flicking with a nibble or a subtle sucking, but she was becoming so heated and slippery it was difficult for him to keep the fleshy button between his fingers. She began to squirm as her pleasure mounted. His grip on the Fire-Trigger of the Hand-Held Console of her X-box of X-tasy was becoming precarious and he knew it. But he stayed rock-steady. If anything bad was going to happen it wasn't going to be his fault this time. For the moment she was melting into the rhythm and it seemed she was ready to reach those special heights tonight...

"Yes, oooh, oooh, don't stop, don't move, don't stop, don't move, don't stop, don't move..."

But E@L had to reassess. Things were getting so slippery he was worried for his conquest's contentment.

"Oh, honey, let me get you into a better position..." He shifted her other leg and retrieved his left arm, which was going numb anyway. He look her entire sex into his mouth and gave it a long sensuous suck, ostensibly to pleasure her, but really to allow himself to get reorientated. This was a precision job and he knew that he must keep his eye on the prize if this was to be a successful recuntoitre.

With his right hand coming down from her taught belly, he rested his heel on her mons and gently pulled back on her skin so that the hood of her Monk of Masturbation became exposed. He licked the index finger of his left hand and placed it directly on the firm nub.

"Oooh, that's it. Rub there, rub me, harder, harder... oww, not too fuckin hard... mmm, that's it, that's it..."

He rocked his finger back and forth, back and forth. Again things were getting so messy he was having trouble with tactile confirmation of contact, he couldn't be sure if he was hitting her nail on its head. It was firm yet soft, so wet and flexible, so he kept up keeping all his movements within millimetres to intensify and concentrate the sensations for her. He held his breath to keep his position fixed, all his energy and focus was on this one spot, this centre of her universe...

"Yes, oooh, oooh, don't stop, don't move, don't stop, don't move, don't stop, don't move... AAAaaargh you shit I said don't fucking move... you selfish pig, I hate you... YOU FUCKING WELL MOVED!"

Suddenly it was gone, it had disappeared. Where was it? He couldn't feel it at all! Her clitoris had up and vanished. He really was forced to reassess! He pushed his tongue back to the task, but even this most sensitive organ could not find her peanut of passion...

"I'll find it, we'll get you back into the groove... Well start again."

"No! You've ruined it now, you already started twice, you bastard. I hate you, you can never satisfy me... Get the fuck out of my bed this instant, loser!"

**************

Pity E@L, verily, may pity rain down upon him.

He thought he had been doing all the right things. He HAD kept still, he HADN'T moved. What had happened? What had ruined his efforts? Little did he know but this failure was setting him up in later life as a specialist in this art...

Unfortunately, unbeknownst to him, his lady friend was one of those girls with a frustrating and all too common affliction:

WANDERING CLITORIS



This is the Scylla of the Love Odyssey, the Wandering Rocks of Romance. So many men fall prey its dangers. So many men are crushed and shattered by the implications of incompetence that they feel inadequate to the task at tongue and relinquish visiting rites to the vulva. Never to venture down those roads again, they opt for the simple life. Let's do a 68," they say. "Give me BJ and I'll owe you one." Some men, maybe like E@L f'r'instance, go the other way and in a desperate but futile attempt to obtain approval and confirmation of their worthiness, become fixated on the oral polymorphousness of their perversities... (i.e. they love it!)

And for the women? Not so good either. Women afflicted with this man-delingualising curse have a type of clitoris that for some reason, unknown even to the aforementioned gynaecologists, decides at crucial times to move into another dimension, taking all hope of obtaining Freud's famously immature "outside" orgasms with it. (Which reminds me that some girls swear by these "outside" orgasms, an orgasm being an orgasm being an orgasm for them, while other girls can only get it off when it is in, if you take E@L's point, as they often do...) Half the time even THEY can't find it! Then they think that they're frigid and develop obsessive-compulsive disorders, like SWEEPING THE LAWN (E@L has witnessed this psychotic behaviour in desperately unfulfilled housewives!) on a fine windless day.

And interestingly, urban myth has it that when one of these clitorii vanishes, a sock magically disappears from a washing machine somewhere and a clothes-hanger appears in a wardrobe somewhere else!

Mmm. Spooky action at a distance: mystic weird, eh what?

**********

Historically, such wandering clitorii have had a marked effect on the great ideas and movements of human progress and the scopes trial of Human Density.

If Eve had had a wandering clitoris, Lilith (she whom liked to screw in the Girls-On-Top position in which a wandering clitoris is not a drawback to orgasm - allegedly) would have to have been the mother of the human race instead of a race of demons that steal the souls of un-baptised children, for EVE would have kicked Adam out of Club Eden herself, not waited for the Vengeance of The Lord.

If Josephine had NOT had a wandering clitoris, it would have been "every night and twice on Sundays" for Napoleon and he would have been too shagged out by unifying with Jo-babe than to try to unify Europe instead. However the frustrations of not being able to satisfy his woman led him to forego even bothering to screw her, and to distill his POE energies on world domination instead, as you do. It was not a case of "little man syndrome" in this famous instance, but one of "little-man-in-the-boat is missing" syndrome.

If Margaret Thatcher had not had a wandering clitoris, she would have been satisfied as a social worker, laboring to develop a community, a society and a country with a conscience in the grimy dust of the pit-towns.

If Nancy Reagan had not had a wandering clitoris she would not have needed to consult her horticulturalist agriculturalist haruspex every day, she would have been happy just sitting in her rocking chair as Ronnie ordered the nuclear annihilation of the planet, her hands under the blanket, rocking and rocking and rocking... "Nuke the fuckers Ronnie, nuke them, yes, nuke them, yes, yes, ooohhh YEEESSSS."

For wouldn't the world be a better place if there were more and better cunnilingualists?

Expert@Linguist

MORE...


Posted by: expat@large on Sep 25, 05 | 12:35 pm | Profile


OTHER MONKEYS SAID



i near laughed mine (clit) off.

especially loved the reference to gynaecologists. since it is undoubtedly true, which makes it more hilarious.

furthermore, i have the exact same problem sometimes, the cure for which is only a seasoned lover (history of more than 5 fucks with me) with lots of patience and big enough ears for er... power-steering.


Posted by: Mainebabe on Sep 25, 05 | 8:54 pm

That was really funny, and it made me slap my forehead and say" Holy shit, now I know why I can never make her happy."

Actually the S.O. can never figure out if she wants to be pleasured by me or worry about the perceived germ factor. It cramps her enjoyment of the whole experience. When I have been able to get her to relax though...........


Posted by: Skippy-san on Sep 25, 05 | 9:10 pm

Mainey, "Power-steering" is so funny!

I had 'nearly' had a girlfriend who was ex-married to a Gyne. She said he was the WORST lover. I suppose if you work all day in Disneyland, last you thing want when you get home is to go for a joy-ride.

Skippy-san, " if she wants to be pleasured by me or by E@L ..." is what I thought you were going to say! Joking! To reassure her, gargle first, or during! (keep a cup of dilute mouth-wash and some ice by the bedside... it's called Fire and Ice! In fact keep two cups - his and hers! Yowzer!) Also make sure SHE has had a good shower! And get her a little pissed or stoned first to help her relax. (Very 70's advice there! - these days I am sure there are more chemical choices for the recreational indulger.) I've had similarly reluctant gf - can't understand the reluctance myself. This girl never masturbated either, or so she claimed...

Maybe a religious upbringing type taboo?

*******

p.s. everybody. E@L was only pretending to be an expert, though. Hi ex-gfs would indeed laugh at that one! -- with derision. Very out of practice. Though gf one nick-named him "Slow Hands" (as in the song by the Pointer Sisters) as a compliment!


Posted by: expat@large on Sep 25, 05 | 10:43 pm

had an ex i was together with for a year and a half. his nickname (christened by the general public, not just me) was Trophy-Head.

he did the acceleration, i did the navigation. we were such a team together.


Posted by: Mainebabe on Sep 26, 05 | 4:39 am

on another note though, i heard from a friend that he once had a gf who didn't like to wash herself properly (as in, parting the sea and really reaching in to the nitty gritty) because she felt it was dirty and therefore also never masturbated.

so he would always come lip to...er lips, with a week's (or however long it had been since their last screw) worth of leftover residue. it was a real turn off as you could probably imagine.

after they broke up, he used it as an excuse as to why he was so skinny. (because he always threw up after a....meal)

disgusting no doubt. i hope i did not send shivers down your spine.


Posted by: Mainebabe on Sep 26, 05 | 4:44 am

you people are incorrigible.


Posted by: MercerMachine on Sep 26, 05 | 6:45 am

not that that's a bad thing.


Posted by: MercerMachine on Sep 26, 05 | 6:45 am

It's a gift...


Posted by: expat@large on Sep 26, 05 | 3:07 pm

Hahahaha. Could you be any funnier? But "recuntoitre"? Oh, gawwwwwd.

I'm fine with the fingers ("let's go for the G, baby!") but terrible with the tongue. I blame the fact that I've never really been allowed to practise.


Posted by: knobby on Mar 14, 07 | 12:27 pm


THIS MONKEY SAYS




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