Here’s one for my long-suffering Lady Readers: it turns out that engaging in a simple fitness exercise can provide you with a Big Moment.
The tingly, burning sensation traveled from the bottom of my feet up the back of my taut calves, through my thighs, into my pelvis, up my spine, on towards the crown of my head. Then as I raised myself back up onto my toes, it traveled back down my body again. My calves burned but so did other parts of my body – parts that shouldn’t be at 9.15am on a Tuesday, as I stood in my gym kit trying to increase my core strength as I trained for a half marathon. It was pain, but it was also, unmistakably, pleasure.
It was – and I apologize if you’re eating your breakfast as you read this – an orgasm.
I mean, think about it: you can get a Big O without all that hassle of involving a partner, or touching yourself inappropriately under the desk, or messing up the bed (if you’re doing it properly, that is).
And you can even get it while doing something healthy: a two-fer, to use retail-speak.
No need to thank me, ladies; it’s all part of the service.
And for the rest of you: it seems like this is a girls-only phenomenon, sorry. You’ll just have to do what you normally do to get yours.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.
A pair of nuns riding down a street new to them. The younger one remarks “I’ve never come this way before, Sister.” The older one responds “It’s the cobblestones.”
will she need a spotter?
Kinda sounds like she ate a chunk of wasabi.
The ladies can just sign up for, One Taste.
I believe she just discovered what the long-time male weightlifters referred to as “The Pump.”
The famous (and infamous) Arnold Schwarzeneggar said that “The Pump was better than sex.”
I do not know if that casts shade on Ahnold, or on the ladies that pursued him, or what.