Jenny Block took a workshop about a year ago and has been writen several pieces about the experience. Just when I think she's written the best article about the workshops and Betty's brilliance she tops herself.
Here's a brief description of her orgasm during erotic recess "with" Betty's instruction (her full article is here):
So I did as we were instructed. I raised my hand. We had been told to raise our hands if we got stuck, an indication that we were in need of the more powerful Magic Wand if the Mystic version wasn't doing the trick. Betty saw my hand in the air, nodded, did not grab the Wand, and crawled over to me, as getting up and down from the floor is a task for her these days at 85.
"You're OK," she said, as she settled onto the floor between by knees. “Keep breathing.” She put her hand on my chest and took the barbell from my hand. “Keep the vibrator on your clit,” she said as she moved the barbell in and out of my body, changing its position and the speed ever so slightly, watching my face and my body as she did.
I instantly felt something different, something more connected and intense. I feel at a strange loss for words trying to describe how it felt without sounding cheesy. But the truth was, it felt delicious. I felt as if I was melting under her touch.
She moved her hand from my chest and made a fist, pressing it against my perineum. It was then that I was cooked. I began to arch my back, as I often do right before I come. Betty told me to press my hips into the floor, explaining that the arch blocks the intensity.
And then it happened.
If it had been a movie, the heavens would have opened and the sun would have streamed through and the birds would have begun merrily chirping. I began to come and come and come and to cry and cry and cry. I occasionally cry when I come, when the orgasm is super-intense and hard-won.
It was hard to discern whether it was one long orgasm or an intense series. Not that it matters, I suppose. All I know is that it seemed to incorporate every muscle and sensation in my body.
Betty smiled, looking nearly as satisfied as I felt. She took the barbell from between my legs and laid it beside me. Then she put her hand on my chest, patted me gently, and said, “Good girl.”
There was a wisdom and a generosity in her eyes that was so warm and genuine. I felt some sort of cosmic connection that seemed to be pulsing through me.