Personal
Orgasm Journal
Disclaimer
While this post is primarily about exploring anal orgasm, tied into the complete story are references to sensitive subjects about drug use and addiction. Everything here is true, and my primary objective is to be responsible to you, my readers, in both telling the truth and protecting you from the harms of drug use. Please learn from my experience and consider very carefully what I am saying, rather than assuming that simply mentioning drug use is endorsing it; here it is quite the contrary. If you or someone you know is dealing with addiction, consider carefully whether you are prepared to read about drug abuse and suicide. There is an important message here, but not everyone is at a point where they can hear it. If you are experiencing difficulty with drugs, please seek help through a drug hotline for your country, your doctor, or a Narcotics Anonymous or Alcoholics Anonymous program in your local area.
Intro
I think as humans we are all capable of the same kinds or orgasms, though we don’t spend time describing and comparing them. My plan is to take one step towards changing that. So as you read about my orgasms, see if you recognise what I write, and see if it brings up memories or feelings that you might otherwise not necessarily focus on outside of the bedroom/sling.
Now comes the context. Context is decisive, and this is a journal, not simply a quick guide to how to get an anal orgasm, because this is my blog and not yours. So if what you want is documentation on orgasms, feel free to skip this bit and scroll down to Orgasm Journal Entry 1, but know that you’ll be missing the context for what I write, namely what in my life lead me to wanting to document my orgasms. As with most of what I write on my blog, the journal’s genesis was in what I can learn during the writing process, but just as much as writing to myself I also want to write it to you, in the hopes we can both get something out of it.
So let me take you back to the beginning, and tell you a story of my last few years: proper context for why I’m writing this now rather than a year or two ago. (This part is pretty miserable so as I said, if you are for happy orgasmy vibes only jump down to Orgasm Journal Entry 1 below.)
Like practically everyone during the great depression of 2020-2022, I landed with a slimy splash in some particularly pooey shit, and I’m taking my sweet ass time to deal with it. Writing this is I think one of my final steps in dealing with the pooey shit I landed in. This is me getting complete with some intimate relationships, which last year I finally installed some explosives under, and allowing myself to bloom again, so to speak.
I’ll keep it as brief and honest as possible. It involves two ffriends, and lots of party drugs (google chemsex if this is foreign to you). I had been taking chems for fisting pretty regularly for a good 6ish years together with Dutchy, my best friend and lover during that time. Sex with him was out of this world, until in late 2020 he came out about his addiction to GHB, a drug we had always taken together for sex and partying. To hear that he had been using it into Monday morning and beyond to relieve the stress/anxiety around his job was truly the most heartbreak I had ever felt in my life, and when he asked me to support him through his recovery process I said yes. It was rough because it took him a whole year more to reach rock bottom, with multiple suicide attempts. He living in the Netherlands and me in Germany made it a little easier for me to keep my distance and sanity while also providing daily support, and 3 years later I’m relieved to be able to tell you that he is alive and appears to be well, committed to his sobriety since spending a year in therapy and the NA program and living in a safe house. Now that we’re at this point, the time has finally come for me to take some steps back and turn the steering wheel of my life away from him to work on myself. Rewinding back 3 years, I’m reminded of the night I read the long email he wrote me, in which he came out about his drug addiction, detailing exactly the 12+ times a day he would take his G and everything else in his troubled, muddled mind. I remember the collection of reactions I had reading it over and over: shock; disgust; despair; confusion; anger; and my resolve, planning how I would save him and then everything would be ok. But sitting up on a different shelf in my mind were the few things I knew for certain: it was time to strap in because this would be the beginning of a very, very long and emotionally draining process; things were destined to change pretty much completely for him; and lastly – and perhaps the saving grace in all of this – through this experience I was going to learn and grow. I have never cried so much in my life as I did for the following year, not only mourning the loss of what we had, which I had decided was the best sex I was ever going to have, but also being scared for him. Along the way though, with lots of discussion and processing with him as well as other friends, I slowly came around to the idea that now I needed to learn to love him for him, and no longer for myself, to commit to standing by a friend, and to continually extinguish the notion that I should deserve something back from him. A love of giving instead of taking, something that had been a blind spot for me up until that point. So yeah, I learned a fucktonne: like what addiction really is; how to support an addict; how to become comfortable with the chance that everything might fall apart and he might die; how to recognise and protect myself from depression; how to put somebody else’s needs ahead of my own; and then later, how to cope with him not needing me anymore once he got proper help. And now the final part: how to put myself back together following all of this. This is all within the greater context of me having a loving husband at home, and the dissonance of putting most of my energy into someone else.
So orgasms… No! First a bit more context: ffriend No. 2. We shall call him Bob. Bob and I met in 2020, just as we were going into lockdown No. 1. Bob liked chems a lot for fisting too, and we quickly got into a rhythm of fisting together every 2nd Friday, a slice of solace, an escape from the tragedy the world was experiencing. We did loooong drug-fuelled sessions, and I didn’t consider all the feelings I might be burying by doing this. I spent my weekdays recovering, went numbly through my job, my relationship and most other things during that time, and it was only when I noticed that I was getting physically sick consistently during each fist session (vomiting) that I decided I needed to stop the chemsex. My body was giving me a clear signal, rejecting what I was putting into it. It took me a few months more to actually put my will to stop into action, and finally in January 2022 I put a complete halt on the fisting and the drugs. Bob didn’t like that I stopped. Bob had his own shit to deal with, and he had no bargaining power in my decision making, and our communication deteriorated over the course of that year, while I came to realise I had been using him for free drugs, toys, and a reliable fist, while subconsciously reeling from what I now see as trauma from having my best friend and former lover almost die and my relationship to him change forever.
What I did slowly learn throughout 2020-2021 was that my relationship to drugs was seriously questionable, and I often felt like a fraud to be supporting someone to be sober while I was being irresponsible with my own drug use. Now who’d like a large helping of cognitive dissonance? During a phone call with my parents around that time, I was telling them about Dutchy’s drug addiction, and my mum asked me if I also took drugs, and I told her yes, and quickly added that I was trying to stop. That was my turning point. You can imagine how I felt, telling my parents this stuff. As I said, committing to stopping happened many months before actually stopping, and when I did it meant putting my fisting essentially on hold for 6 or so months. It was at that point that I started being able to process my emotions about what happened to Dutchy. I was in love with him, and that took a very, very long time to fade. He had been central to both my drug use and my fisting, and my emotional satisfaction. It was all tied up together, and it all had to stop if I was going to start making progress again in my life.
Divorcing drugs from sex was and still is difficult, and bottoming sober for me is still challenging; I’m not tight, but I’d been convincing myself over many years that the great feelings don’t come as easily when I’m sober, which is of course bullshit. I need to practice, and I am. The brain is plastic, and it optimises itself to the things you practice.
So I had more than a double helping of fucked up. If you’ve had a breakdown in your fisting and taken or are contemplating taking a break, don’t let others tell you what you need or should be ready to do. You take things in your own time, listen to your body, and to be honest FUCK EVERYBODY ELSE, their opinions, expectations and what they tell you is going on. You only have to answer to yourself, and nothing, not even a successful fisting podcast or contacts around the world or annual sex events ought to dictate when you’re ready to fist again. You reclaim your sex life in your own time. And here is where the orgasm journal comes in, for this is where my reclamation journey begins.
The meat of this is that I am reclaiming my orgasm, sober and independent of anything that has happened in my life with my former primary fisting partners. I want to document and describe what I feel when I orgasm: to remind myself that I am experiencing orgasm, that nothing is missing in my sober play. Also this is a rare attempt at documenting anal or full body orgasm, something that is elusive and understudied even in the regular sexual arena, let alone within our beloved fisting kink. I suspect I might be a pioneer here, but the hubris is strong with this one, so if you know of anyone who has documented their anal orgasm experiences from fisting, I would love to chat to them. I would also like to hear from you about your anal orgasms while I tell you about mine. Please leave a comment and we can all appreciate each other’s anal orgasms together.
Orgasm Journal Entry 1
4th June 2023
I spent most of the last 8 or so months only topping. My butt usually isn’t hungry over the winter months anyway, and I wanted to wait until I feel the hunger come, which it slowly is. So about 9 days ago I bottomed again for the first time in a very long time. The catalyst was there was a gorgeous guy from Melbourne visiting, with whom I’d been chatting on and off for a good year or more. I opened him up first, which worked fantastically, and got my ass in the mood the way topping always manages to do for me. When he returned the favour, I opened up easily, and it felt intense and good, and I was surprised by every little feeling that came. I’m trying to describe the feelings, which is exactly my intention with this journal, but I can’t! Let me see… The opening up felt like a big stretch but one that was super familiar, and I know my body well so I didn’t flinch or worry, but the profundity of the stretch didn’t go unnoticed.
I’ll tell you what he did: he kept it in my rectum, making a ball. I told him I feel safe, that I trust him. I got him to hold it still where it was, to get used to it, then to move his fist in circles, stretching out my rectum nicely to warm it up, bringing more blood to the area, which is a technique I find very helpful. Then I got him to go in and out slowly, consistently, like the slowest of punches, which I know works well to relax me and accept the fist. It all worked fine, and while I wouldn’t say I started orgasming, it was remarkably relaxing and pleasant, and the memory of these feelings I hadn’t experienced in so long came rushing back. Wow, that’s how it feels, of course! I remember saying wow and fuck a lot, haha. It was all very smooth, slow and affectionate, lots of body contact and…
Ok, pause. As I wrote the words “body contact” just now, I stopped for a second to go and add those two words to a fisting mood board I’m creating (a list of things to help you get in the mindset when bottoming). As I did it, I read over the other things on the list, and I started to feel the tiniest orgasm roll from my ass or maybe the base of my spine, up through my body and all the way to the top of my head. It was a tingling sensation, and I became very aware of my breath. Everything got a bit warmer. And then it ended at my head and disappeared again, leaving me feeling still warm and a bit more relaxed. Could writing this indeed be the discovery I hope it is? This is happening while I’m sitting on a long distance train full of people by the way, writing away frantically while careening through the North German countryside at 250kph.
Anyway, the irony is that during the session with my Melbourne top, that one that rolls up the spine is not the kind of orgasm I had. I also wasn’t using my fisting mood board. I had a different kind of orgasm; I’m not even sure I should call it an orgasm to be honest, it doesn’t feel like cumming at all. Here’s what happened: he went deeper into me, till the mid forearm and maybe a bit beyond, and I kept saying wow and just accepting it as it happened. And then I started crying. This has happened to me a number of times over the last 5ish years (more than 5 times, less than 10), and seems to happen more frequently in recent years. I have done some digging and worked out it could be due to two things, perhaps in combination. The first is that the vagus nerve around the pelvis and gut area can produce a cathartic kind of release when stimulated. It belongs to the parasympathetic nervous system, a stress regulation system, responsible for the “rest and digest” or “feed-and-breed” activities of the body. I don’t know enough yet, but this sounds to me like deep relaxation and horniness activated if you are stimulating it. It’s curious that the nerves that regulate your gut function are also responsible for sexual arousal… So we’re not crazy for putting things deeeeep in our colons, maybe? More on that once I educate myself. Also here’s some info about crying during/after sex. Nobody has ever shamed me for it; guys just keep fisting, tell me to let it all out, and then give me a huge hug afterwards. It’s a very positive experience for me.
The second is a feeling of awe. How do I explain this succinctly? Awe is the feeling we have when we are inspired by something we don’t fully understand, like what you might get when you fly in a plane the first few times (hell, I still get it looking out the window), or you go to a concert and experience the energy of your favourite musicians creating magic onstage, or taste a chef’s dish that has been expertly crafted to wow your palette. It’s the appreciation of what you might see as a miracle, or magic, because you experience it but can’t fully explain what is going on. It happens during fisting too. Awe can result in some particular physical expressions, which all fall under that same parasympathetic nervous system, namely goosebumps, a shiver down your spine (hm, could this shiver be similar to orgasm?), muscle relaxation, and yes, tears. So do I cry from experiencing awe at the feeling of getting fisted? Yes, I think I do. And I think it happens more now that I get fisted sober. I suggest listening to this podcast episode: Ten Percent Happier, Episode 546. It traces awe as a physical response, as well as pointing to it as a key to living a happy life: that humans can deliberately seek awe to enrich their lives. This could all be a good argument for why fisters – or people who have a good sex life – might be happier, and why good sex is relaxing and fulfilling. It could be awe.
So then a few days ago I wanted to continue my bottoming streak, so I played with a couple who I’d been chatting to also for a while. We finally met, and hit it off very well. In my usual style I topped both of them first, and there was plenty of fucking that happened as well. I had problems getting clean, which is kind of normal for me if I’m honest (and I am not working on my douching technique lately because my bottoming has been so few and far between – heaven for my electricity bill, let me tell you!), and even 4 douching rounds later I still felt stuff far up there while they were opening me up, and we stopped. I douched again and yes, I was right. We get very good at telling whether we’re clean or not, don’t we! I don’t really have any hang-ups about shit myself, but I’ve heard there is a chemical in the shit that makes it not feel good if you are trying to put things up your bum. It’s like nature’s warning system. I got that feeling. They did fuck me before that, which felt fucking lush anyway.
Oh and I forgot to mention that at the very beginning of our play that night I had them kneeling, one before me and the other behind me, while I stood with my legs spread as one of them ate my ass and the other sucked my dick, and that was definitely my full body orgasm of the night. It also came in waves, less of an anal celebration than a regular anal orgasm (I promise you I’ll write about this in detail in future, when I have an anal orgasm again), and more of an all-over body…thing. My hands and feet got all tingly. They kept devouring me from both sides for about 5 mins, and after that I had to lie down and recover while they laughed about how hot it was to hear me moaning so appreciatively. I mentioned the breath earlier: this is a central feature of orgasm. The breath becomes such a force, and the more I allow my breathing to be a feature of sex, including vocalising, the stronger an orgasm seems to become. Tantra/kundalini/chakra oriented people talk about opening the throat chakra by vocalising freely, and I believe this is what that is. (I remember I had a couple once try to shush me during a fist session because they didn’t want the neighbouring guests at the hotel to hear us, and I hated it. I stopped the session early, because I felt I couldn’t experience pleasure while holding back my vocalising. Yeah, I’m loud sometimes, it feels right, and I turn myself on with my vocalising. Don’t ever let anyone tell you you aren’t allowed to make any sounds. Of course there’s such a thing as too much, but hey if you get to that point and have to have a sock shoved in your mouth, you’re probably having some pretty good sex so good for you.)
To conclude, some take-away points:
1. Awe and the vagus nerve (belonging to the parasympathetic nervous system) seem responsible for the crying orgasm(?). Don’t worry, I’m using words right now without really knowing exactly what they mean. They are a place marker for now, food for further investigation and chat with a medical professional.
2. The rolling up your body in waves orgasm is something I’ll explore soon for you. It’s my favourite. I also call it orgasm plateau, because you can stay in it for a long time. It comes up the body in waves. Ok I’ll stop before I take up a whole paragraph talking about it here.
3. Tingly, full-body orgasm is something I can experience even just from foreplay. Actually No. 2 happens to me when my husband eats me out too.
4. Throat chakra opening is achieved by breathing and vocalising, a key to orgasm.
5. Oh so yeah, I can orgasm just fine without drugs. Lol. Silly me.
6. And yes, I’m creating a fisting mood board for bottoming. It’s a long time in the making, and is an idea based on discussions I’ve had with my fist friend Greasy20 from Chicago, someone who is one of the few people whose ideas are helping me in resurrecting my sex life.
But for now, I declare Orgasm Journal entry number 1 complete!
Entry 2
8th June 2023
It’s funny how my life has gotten so busy at exactly the time I’m reclaiming my orgasm. I’m a freelance musician and my job is having a big shakeup, with some new jobs and finishing up at the old one I’ve been at for 11 years. Big changes. And I am ramping up action on my Patreon, organising a website overhaul with a web developer for the blog, going on tour, rehearsing almost every single night and on weekends, and giving 2 final performances next month. And in between, I’m snatching fleeting moments to focus on my orgasm, put a toy up my butt, fist with someone I like, put more energy into my household and my relationship, and be more engaged in some friendships (I realised while reading about my gay shame that I push people away in pre-empting their rejection of me… If you haven’t read about gay shame and how it still affects us in adult life, I recommend it).
So this one’s just short to say that I’ve put a little structure into my day. I start with orgasm practice first thing in the morning, and am developing a formula for it. It goes a bit like this:
1. Do something that makes you forget you’re trying to have an anal orgasm. Read a book, or play a video game or something. I like to lie on my front in bed, so moving about isn’t really suitable, though I have had sudden anal orgasms while doing all sorts of things in the past, so there’s no reason this should be set in stone.
2. Let the lust come. Give it time. If it doesn’t come it doesn’t come! But I tend to find that doing something physically passive like reading tends to allow the space for horniness to come up.
3. When you notice the horny feeling, spread your legs. I lift my knee further up the bed, and think about someone eating my ass. Next time I’ll imagine a favourite person, dick, fist, whatever turns me on at the time. Or maybe my husband will be around and he can eat my ass. He was after all one of the best ass eaters and dick suckers that I’ve ever met, and makes me anal orgasm very well with that tongue.
4. Then vocalise. Moan is the word, but tbh I hate it, it sounds too strong and ugly. The German word stöhnen is much more subtle, I find it fits much better – I know, surprising, right? German, subtle! Whimper also doesn’t hit the spot. You know how when you are getting fisted and you start orgasming and breathing heavier, and do some light moaning? (see moaning just sounds ugly, like…I’m not a rabid whore in the middle ages). Anyway the moaning makes more orgasm happen, and more orgasm makes you moan more, etc. It’s a circular thing. So moan, motherfucker, and see if it makes you start to feel the orgasm. It might be really shakey, coming a bit and disappearing, and that’s great! You are controlling this, and you’re just lying there with nothing in your ass, using nothing but your imagination and a bit of breathing. This is throat chakra stuff again, as I mentioned in entry 1.
So there you go, train your orgasm in 4 easy steps. In addition I’ve been taking the advice of one Dr Highrider, who gave a great fisting masterclass at Darklands this February. I have taken a number of pieces of advice from his class, and the most recent (after some resistance at first) is to do a simple rectum douche every morning, having it become part of your morning routine, like brushing your teeth. I almost have to stop myself from brushing my teeth at the same time. It doesn’t mean you will definitely be having sex, but being prepared for it is mental, and I find myself looking more for opportunities to open my butt because I’ve douched. And you can’t deny that going through life douched gives you this floaty, fresh feeling.
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Entry 3:
14th June
Does orgasm wave happen with the breath? If an orgasm feels like it’s starting, I breathe, almost like I need to let it out of me. Breathing out, it has its pleasure pulse in my ass, and sometimes also up my body like a wave. Breathing quickly, the pleasure pulse repeats as rapidly as the breath. If I breathe slowly, does the orgasm change speed? Does anything else change along with that speed change? And how do I send it up my whole body?
Entry 4
9th July
I have been too busy for anal orgasm. Been working my ass off every single day, as one of my jobs nears its end (I’m a freelance musician, and am quitting my longest running job of 11 years. Having our final concerts together now). I haven’t even been practicing my quiet anal orgasm (quiet being with no touching), and my morning douche has gone out the window. The job finishing up has come with a lot of stress that I didn’t recognise as stress to begin with. My sexual interest disappeared for a couple of weeks, and I noticed my resentment for this job coming up again (it’s complicated). The house looks like a bomb hit it as my husband is also dealing with a particularly high amount of stress in his career. Now that one of the two final concerts is over (the more stressful one), I notice my libido returning in a big way, and I’m feeling happier. Just yesterday I came back to the idea of anal orgasm and had a light little feeling there thinking about it. And I also played briefly with a toy the other day, which felt good, was a nice opener, but I didn’t have the energy to continue it as it was already late in the morning after getting home from a club (my first time going out partying in a few years!). So some good signs. Maybe more to come in the following two weeks.
I get less upset these days if it’s not the time to be doing much anal. Taking life as it comes and working with what is there is the key for me to not being distressed and wishing for it to be different. The end is in sight anyway, it’s summer and my libido is now back so we’re all good.
