Rosie Labrun is a lot of things: a college student on the cusp of graduation; an intern for the Portland Pirates, a romance novel connoisseur; and the most recent addition to her resume...the girlfriend of a professional athlete.
She won't let it d...
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I was never good at fingering girls, pre-Rosie.
I would always just stick my fingers in them, thrusting a few times like I'd seen in porn - one too many times. In porn, there's very little technique and a high return on a low investment (i.e. the girl usually screams like a banshee after a few times of sticking your fingers in her). Looking back on it, I kinda cringe thinking about all the women I had misguidedly made feel like they were a beehive being poked with a stick.
At some point during our conversations - which were usually late night and often involving something sexual at that time, Rosie mentioned that guys sucked at fingering women. And I, being the cocky 21-year old motherfucker that I was at that time, bragged about how great I was at it. Actually, I think first I got an erection at the thought of touching her, then I bragged about being amazing at it.
Obviously, Rosie and I never ended up meeting up the first time; and one too many drinks and Google searches later, I found myself reading Cosmo. Well, I read Cosmo, Reddit, and a shit-ton of other forums and resources that gave me the low-down on how to actually finger a woman.
Step One: Wash your fucking hands. Nobody wants to get a yeast infection - or have your dirty-ass fingernails, inside them. I'm a dude and I can fully attest to the number of unsanitary things we do on a daily basis. From touching our junk to randomly adjusting it to playing sports and not bothering to wash our hands before we eat, we do a lot.
But given that I wanted to make a good impression on Ro, I became an expert on the ABCs while scraping the shit out of my fingernails. I even watched some YouTube video from Cayu, where he taught me the proper steps of hang washing. And no, I'll never admit any of this shit out loud. Just like I'll never admit that I sometimes think about what Rosie and I will name our kids, so much so that I have a list of ten to fifteen names in a Notepad on my phone.
But that's besides the point. The point being, if you want a girl to actually have a good time with you; whether it's a one-night stand or the love of your life, you have to know how to finger her. And also never do that weird thing in porn where you finger fuck the chick, or god forbid, try and fist her. Whoever invented fisting should be prosecuted for the number of vaginas they've made shrivel up in fear.
"Oh my god." Rosie murmurs, gripping my shoulders for support as I work my magic. My magic, ladies and gentleman, being finding her G-spot. Yes, that elusive and sometimes reclusive thing that people love to talk about, is real. It's real and it is the secret ingredient to all good things in life, including making my girlfriend have an orgasm.
She doesn't need me to finger her to have an orgasm, nor does she need a vibrator or toys. But they're fun to throw into the mix and it helps move the process along. Actually, scratch that. I can't say I've ever made her come without having my fingers inside her. Usually, my fingers are inside her and my thumb's on her clit.
That's when I don't have a vibrator, or can't use one for obvious reasons (i.e. my family might hear). Also, I didn't bring one down to the basement. I have one in my suitcase, because I'm a man that likes to think optimistically, but I don't carry it on me - mostly because while I'm optimistic, I also didn't want the TSA agent asking me why I was carrying a bright pink vibrator with my car keys.
"You feel so fucking good." I tell her, slowly moving my fingers in a come hither fashion; one of which I've come to know is the best way to make her orgasm. To those that haven't been gifted with the privilege of having your fingers inside a woman, listen up. The G-spot, is your best friend.
How do you find it? You feel around and look for something different. Not the boy band that Rosie's semi obsessed with but has since gone sour from because of it's association to the Paul brothers, I mean a texture. The G-spot feels different from the rest of the vagina, almost having the same sensation as your tongue.
It's sensitive and you have to be gentle with it, at least, I have to with Rosie. A few minutes of doing the come hither thing and rubbing her clit is usually good enough to put her over the edge. But every woman is different; so if you learn anything from this non-published and never will be publicized tutorial, it's that you have to treat every woman like she's your first and last.
Like she's a Martian that's just landed on planet earth, and you're trying to figure out how to make them feel welcome. You have to understand that just because your ex liked X, that doesn't mean the next girl will; and to think otherwise, or that there's some end-all, be-all, cheat code, would be pure stupidity. The greatest human error ever created; even worse than when Donald Trump's dad didn't wear a condom.
"Erik." She breathes heavily, the air escaping her lips getting heavier and heavier as I get closer and closer to bringing her over the edge. Her lips are parted, her eyes closing from how good the feeling is. Her hair's all over the place and her legs hooked around the back of my ass; and all I can think about is how this is the most beautiful she's ever looked.
How when I wake up, when I go to sleep, I hope I think of her, forever. And I hope she's gonna agree to put up with me, forever. Yeah, I'm thinking about when I'm gonna propose to her while my index finger is in the process of making her come. But what else is a man to do, when he's trying not to let his Johnson burst through his pants.
Sometimes I'll hear guys talking about how sex gets boring if they don't change positions, or watch porn during it (why anyone would do that, is beyond something my brain can comprehend), what I find myself wondering, is how the fuck anyone's able to last more than a few minutes inside their girlfriend.
When I was hooking up with girls pre-Rosie, I had no problem lasting as long as I wanted to - which was usually as long as it took for the chick to have an orgasm, or for my dick to begin to chafe. After that, I would finish and the night would be over. Cuddling was not a sport I participated in, not with someone that wasn't my girlfriend.
I think it had less to do with me being douchey and more to do with me catching feelings for people rather quickly. As you can tell from how quickly I've become utterly and completely obsessed with Rosie. But that one's a logical obsession; one that makes sense given our history, common life goals, and overall attraction towards one another.
If I weren't completely nuts about her, I'd say my dick is broken.
That's one thing I don't think I could ever do again, or even think about: having sex with someone other than her. There's just something about being intimate with someone that you're in love with and crazy about that makes it a million times better. Like someone asking you if you want an Oreo McFlurry with Caramel sauce, or just a plain vanilla cone.
"Don't stop." She tells me, her voice quiet but her actions so loud they're deafening. Her fingers are on my arm, her hand running down my forearm and gripping onto it, showing me just how good she's feeling. How much I'm making her not only feel, but lose control, lose herself in the moment and enjoy ourselves together.
That's one thing she sometimes has a problem with: relaxing, being in the moment and not focused on where she'll be ten years from now. If you ask me, I'll give you an answer: married to her with three kids; but if you ask her, she'll agonize over it for a solid three hours.
It used to be more of a problem that effected us when we first started seeing each other, but now that we've become more comfortable around each other and she trusts me, I feel like she has no problem relaxing when I'm there. Hell, sometimes I'm the one she comes to when she wants to relax. Whether that's playing Mario Kart, or me giving her a massage (which usually leads to other things), is up to her.
"Oh my god." She murmurs again, mouthing something incoherent before her body begins convulsing, her tightness contracting around my fingers. I say fingers as if I have more than just one in there. She can't really handle much more than that, unless it's my cock.
