The G-Spotted Orgasmus

According to the textbooks, the “G” may very well stand for Grafenberg, for me it stands for God.


I was standing in the middle of the room, completely naked, one foot on the floor and one on the dining room table. He was still fully clothed, down on his knees, licking my pussy and beckoning my g-spot with his fingers. Juice was dripping out of me. I was cumming a steady stream of fresh cream all over his face. I was being drained. He was swallowing it in gulps.

I am somewhat ashamed to admit that I managed to make it to 27 years of age without ever having a g-spot orgasm. After having my first, I now know why it took me this long. I was not ready.

Before I could experience the g-spot orgasm I had to be spiritually, emotionally, and physically prepared to meet my maker, so to speak. I had to be willing to cum buckets all over some poor bastards face. I had to be willing to stare God in the eye. I had to be willing to let go.

I realized after having it that I had been on the cusp several times before in my sexual history, but I always stopped the action, shifted the weight, squiggled out of the situation in some way. It was uncomfortable. It felt like I was gonna piss myself, or lose control of some other bodily function, laugh hysterically or cry hysterically. Who knows? I could only tell I was approaching some threshold, and I was afraid. Unlike some lucky players, I had never been involved with anyone whom I felt comfortable enough to piss myself in front of. Then I met him.

There’s this part in Gabrielle Garcia Marquez’s “Love in the Time of Cholera” where the main character is fucking a widow, rather, she’s fucking him, and he says to her, “You make love to me like I’m just anybody.” She laughs and replies, “No, I make love to you like you’re nobody.”

I fucked this guy like he was nobody. I fucked him with my eyes open and looked straight through him. This wasn’t indifference, it was transcendence. We had an understanding. He was being used, not by me, but as a channel of God. It may seem a bit blasphemous to suggest that I was being fucked by the Lord Almighty, but I know, as all deep spiritual truths are known — deep in the body, soul, and bones, rather than understood — I was having a spiritual experience.

At first this made me feel kind of strange. A strange way to meet God, I thought, thick cum dripping out of me, nipples erect, body hot. The writings of the Mystics speak of a Rapture. I don’t think this is what they had in mind. My mind wanders to the Greeks and Romans. Their myths tell of gods coming in human and animal forms, raping fair maidens and mating with mortals. At this moment, that makes perfect sense.

I was cumming with my eyes wide open. That was a difference I noticed with the g-spot orgasm. Usually my eyes were closed, lazily rolling about in my head, lovingly gazing at my partner, or clamped shut in a pleasure/pain squint. When the g-spot is stimulated, my eyes are peeled open. I get alert like an animal when a predator or prey is nearby. I see everything and nothing at the same time. I can see through everything; through walls, through faces, through feelings. My partner vanishes and I find myself having an intercourse of a different kind. All my thoughts turn to God.
All of this God-talk simply because I had my first g-spot orgasm? Well, yeah.


It feels like high school when I call it creaming. Memories of getting fingered in dark, teen dance clubs in the 8th grade, over by the pool tables, hurriedly getting it on until my name is called over the sound system, “Julia, your mother’s here.” At the time I thought that was humiliating, now it’s so hot. Don’t get caught! Taboo’s always seem to intensify orgasms. Kinda like holding your breath. But that was then. Now it’s trying to keep quiet in the apartment building. Some sort of restraint is always necessary. Without restraint it seems to always go into excess. I start performing. I get disconnected, too showy and outward. I’m a spiritual fucker. I’m not sure how many others there are who are praying to God while fucking. I bring God to bed with me. God is love.

Thank you for letting me share.

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