My Last Orgasm

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Betty Dodson

A discussion between two sex educators with Carlin and me took place the other day. We were talking about the importance of titles for books and essays. We agreed that Becky Chalker who was present had one of the best titles for her book, The Clitoral Truth. Gina Ogden who was with us said her publisher recently told her books about sex and death sold the best.

“That’s easy, I answered: “The Last Orgasm before I Die.” We all laughed heartily.

At that moment I remembered an essay I never finished titled; To Fuck or Not to Fuck. I was using the word “fuck” to mean vaginal penetration by a penis, dildo or finger. That’s what most of us mean when we say “fuck” or use the word “sex.” Of course there is a vast variety of sexual activities to choose from besides penetrating one of our body’s orifices.

Perhaps my Last Orgasm will be the final breathe as I leave my body. The truth is a woman’s clitoris will respond to the end of her life if she’s been using it. It’s our vaginas that go on vacation after menopause when estrogen levels drop, the vaginal lining thins out and we have less lubrication. This is similar to older men whose penis no longer gets erect. While men have Viagra, no amount of additional lubrication is sufficiently adequate to end the burning sensations that most postmenopausal women experience with vaginal penetration— unless they do some kind of hormone replacement therapy (HRT). After I read all the possible side affects, I said “No thanks” to what most of my women friends automatically embraced. I knew that running my masturbation workshops and exploring other sex styles would keep me sexually entertained.

After double hip replacement at sixty-eight, I heard about bio-identical hormones and decided to revitalize my vagina and become a born again hedonist. The cream was applied vaginally and was made from the soy bean plant similar to what our bodies once produced. Plant based made more sense than the pharmaceutical Premarin made from a pregnant mare’s urine. In no time I went through a phase of traditional female horniness and had a few dates. Older men just were not on my level and I became more specific about what I wanted in a lover.

After exchanging many steamy emails, a beautiful virile young man came to visit and we launched into a passionate affair. I was sixty-nine and he was twenty-two. Since I’d pretty much done it all, the idea of a real penis attached to a man inside my vagina at the advanced age of sixty-nine did seem quite kinky. In spite of the fact that I knew better, I fell back into old fashioned romantic love with penis/vagina sex. The year was 1999 when I also succumbed to the Y2K panic. The new millennium might be the end of civilization as we knew it once the world’s computers failed. I decided to have one last fling and Eric became my adorable roommate and sexual apprentice. We were so compatible that we ended up living together for ten years.

In 2002, my next book Orgasms for Two: the Joy of Partnersex was about my affair with Eric who had become my lover/apprentice. The idea of teaching a young man my approach to female sexual pleasure was very appealing. However, our age difference made this relationship a big social challenge. An older woman with a much younger man was shocking or down right disgusting. Just another aspect of society’s sexual double standard that I loved to confront— if men can have younger lovers so can women! He has since moved out but we remain best friends and colleagues in our unique field of sex coaching. Eric is part of my chosen family.

Since I do not currently have a partner, the reason I continue HRT is the attachment I have to my dildo collection. I’m quite fond of working my PC muscle on one of these beautiful phallic toys made of metal, glass, polished wood or my current favorite, an obsidian volcanic glass hand carved black beauty. I imagine I’m back in high school madly in love with Bob but determined to maintain my virginity. After hours of kissing and fondling we are so steamed up we agree to “just put the tip in.” My PC muscle must hold back penetration while the dildo rests at my vaginal opening with a vibrator humming on my clit. The weight grows heavier until I can no longer resist and the phallus plunges inside. I orgasm at the moment I loose my precious virginity!

The desire to mate or bond with another person is not limited to procreation or age. The same desire also exists between gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered couples as well. Most of us seek our “other half” because very few can pull off long periods of solitude. Even Thoreau on his Walden Pond packed it in after a couple of years. Thanks to my many different creative projects, I’ve managed to go for long periods without a partner relying primarily on sex with myself combined with many exciting fantasies that fuel some of my best orgasms. They always leave me satisfied and like it’s been said, “I never have to look my best.”

The joy of orgasm followed by cuddling and affection felt toward a lover motivates us to pair off. But sexual pleasure as an end itself is still suspect in good ole Puritanical America. Most religions support procreation only and they are not in favor of pleasure unless a couple is in a monogamous relationship, preferably marriage. Atheists can fuck their brains out and many of us do. Catholics can always confess, be forgiven and sin again. Jews are supposed to please their wives but they are not supposed to masturbate. Most Muslim men can do anything they want because sexual pleasure belongs to them alone. Nearly all married and monogamous Protestant husbands often cheat especially ministers and politicians, and more recently, wives are beginning to play the same game.

Then there’s the sex we have with ourselves. That’s been my specialty because it’s the most consistent sex I’ve experienced in my long lifetime. My lovers and one husband have come and gone, but my affair with me has remained. Like most women, I suffered through devastating times of breaking up, unwanted pregnancies, a divorce and many broken hearts. I’ve even been known to break up with myself. Once I was financially solvent, my independent bachelor days in my forties were the best with many casual lovers, threesomes and group sex. Groups were my favorite until I realized that sexually speaking it wasn’t a level playing field. Way too many women were faking orgasms. That’s when my feminist spirit began to burn with a hard gem-like flame. That led me to facilitating Bodysex groups for women that turned into 25 years of feminist activism. We learned about sex together, first with group discussion followed by a genital show and tell ritual of viewing the range of our vulvas to overcome genital shame. On the second day we shared orgasms in a guided masturbation circle. We were all equal but separate and able to enjoy our independent orgasms using electric vibrators in the sacred circle.

During the past three years I’ve been on vacation again from heterosexual partnersex. In many ways it’s been a relief. I feel like I’ve come home to myself instead of always considering another person, making allowances for them and constantly dealing with some kind of power struggle that seems to be an inevitable aspect of co-habiting. I’m at the top of my game when it comes to teaching masturbation skills to a woman with hands-on sex coaching which is basically a workshop for one. Also answering questions on our new extraordinary website is exhilarating. Now with the re-launch of my Genital Art Gallery and putting up my fine art gallery, thanks to my young business partner Carlin I will have my lifetime of work in one place that will be accessible indefinitely throughout the universe. We enjoy working and hanging out together as best friends who are also business partners.

After forty years of dealing with women’s sex problems, no one knows better than I do that vaginal penetration is not the way most women experience orgasm. It’s only one kind of sex on an extremely varied menu. However, a vibrator on my clitoris combined with a penis sliding slowly in and out of my well-lubed pussy can be addictive. No matter how hard I try I can’t shake my sexual imprinting. Yet if I counted the number of delightful orgasms I’ve had with partners during vaginal penetration and clitoral stimulation compared to the number of orgasms I’ve had with myself, guess which one wins? I thank the powers that be for self-love, masturbation and good health that have allowed me to enjoy all of my shared and independent orgasms.

This past year when I considered stopping bio-identical hormones and to retire vaginal penetration once and for all, a new tube showed up in the mail! For now, I’ll finish this tube while I continue to enjoy my dildo collection. In the meantime, I remain open to the possibility that I just might meet a dashing distinguished older man who is smart, powerful, and sexually interesting. Or a handsome butch dyke who is even smarter and loves to strap-on a dildo, I’d bottom for her.

When this tube runs out, I’ll either retire vaginal penetration or send off for yet another supply of bio-identical hormones and remain a “Fucking Octogenarian” enjoying a person and my fabulous dildo collection with more varied fantasies. I’m convinced the ability to fantasize is at the heart of the creative process. I intend to continue mine along with my orgasms to the end.

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