Compilation copyright 2018 by Emma Koenig
Foreword copyright 2018 by Rachel Bloom
Cover design by Brigid Pearson.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Koenig, Emma, compiler.
Title: Moan : essays on female orgasm / collected by Emma Koenig ; foreword
by Rachel Bloom.
Description: First edition. | New York : Grand Central Publishing, [2018]
Identifiers: LCCN 2017025281| ISBN 9781455540556 (trade pbk.) | ISBN
9781478988366 (audio download) | ISBN 9781455540549 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Female orgasm. | Women--Sexual behavior. | Sexual
intercourse. | Sexual excitement.
Classification: LCC HQ29 .K64 2018 | DDC 306.7082--dc23
LC record available at https://2017025281.lccn.loc.gov
ISBNs: 978-1-4555-4055-6 (trade paperback), 978-1-4789-8836-6 (audio download), 978-1-4555-4054-9 (ebook)
E3-20180228-DA-PC
For you, and your next orgasm.
Hello. My name is Rachel Bloom. And, like half of you out there on planet Earth, I am the owner of a clitoris. Specifically, a 1987 clitoris sedan with four-wheel drive, 0 percent APR, and a pinkish-tan hood.
We clitoris owners can sometimes get a raw deal. (Side note: Raw Deal is also what I call my clitoris after a night of lovemaking.) The clitoris can be an enigma not only to those who approach it, but sometimes to those who own it. It took me almost twenty years of masturbating to kind of understand what brings me to orgasm. I say kind of because, even now, I am still surprised by my clitoriss own abilities and shortcomings. Or sometimes longcomings. Like, its been seven seconds and Im still coming? Impressive, my little raw deal.
First, I am glad that this book exists for those without clitorises. (I will henceforth refer to those people as men to talk about my own sexual experiences, though I acknowledge that many of you out there have many other different types of partners.)
When I was little, my mother warned me that most men wont care about my pleasure. However, I have pleasantly found the opposite to be true. Most of the men Ive been with have been eager to please and super open to doing whatever it takes to get me off. When I tell them exactly what I want, theyre not threatened; rather, they are relieved, jubilant, and then super turned on (in that order).
For this reason, I have never faked an orgasm. Never. Not once. I know what I want because Ive been giving myself orgasms since age eleven and, as a result, was making myself come for about seven years before I let any penis-owner put his grimy man hands down there. The way I learned how to masturbate was very scholarly: I read a lot of puberty books. These books not only told me how to masturbate but also told me that most women can come only from clitoral stimulation.
Yet I am still insecure about not having an orgasm the right way. Even with all the puberty books, even with all the Savage Lovecasts, I am still insecure about my own clitoral orgasm. I pine for the idea of a pure orgasm, aka coming from just a penis inside me.
A big part of this insecurity comes from hearing other women brag about their own vaginal orgasms. I remember confiding to one of my bragging friends that I couldnt come from sex alone, and she looked at me condescendingly and said that I just hadnt been in love enough yet. When women I knew discussed sex and didnt bring up having a vaginal orgasm, they still glossed over the part involving any sort of clitoral stimulation as if it were a shameful thing. Once again, I relied on books and magazine articles to tell me that it was okay and normal to touch myself during sex.
Despite all the cliterature I read, I was still insecure about my orgasms. What if all that masturbating from such a young age had gotten me into a habit I couldnt break? Maybe if Id masturbated less I would have been less used to my own fingers and a penis alone would be able to make me come. Cause honestly, having an orgasm during sex can sometimes be a pain in the ass. Sometimes my clit is weirdly numb from the rigors of intercourse, sometimes my own hands get tired, sometimes I forgot to USB charge my normal vibrator so I have to use my backup vibrator, which is fine but isnt as good.
This is why Im glad this book exists for us clitoris-havers out there. No matter how proud you are of your clitoris and all the amazing things it does, there will almost always be confusion and questions around it. I am not half as insecure about my orgasms now, but there is still this lingering feeling that I and my raw deal arent up to snuff.
The anonymous essays that Emma has curated prove that there is no right or wrong way for a woman to have an orgasm. Everyones story is truly different. This book makes me more okay with a lot of things Ive been insecure about throughout my life. Its okay that what brings me pleasure during intercourse is different from what brings me to orgasm. Its okay that, on occasion, I dont need to have an orgasm during sex, or, as one anonymous essay writer puts it, Its just not going to happen tonight.
I could go on and on about the reasons this book is important right now, but Emma goes over all those reasons in her introduction way better than I ever could, so Ill just say this: were all just flesh monsters who shit, sleep, and fuck, so lifes too short to not get the exact pleasure you want.
Before I ever had my first kiss, I went to second base. Well, kind of. The tamest possible version of second base. I was twelve years old; prebat mitzvah but postcrossing the threshold of menstruation and leg shaving. It was a time when I was strangely confident. Of course, I wasnt immune to insecurities. I mean, I was one of the tallest girls in my grade, I had the hair of Michael J. Foxas Teen Wolfand a mustache. (All of this is still true except for my heightthis was about the time I stopped growing.) And Id experienced my fair share of mean girls, unrequited crushes, cruel teasing, embarrassing AOL conversations, being the least athletic person in the history of sports, continually telling my parents and believing that Today is the worst day of my life!, etc. But to be twelve, at least in the year 2000, at least for me, was to exist in this golden era before you were fully indoctrinated with societys master plan: to make women feel bad about themselves and how they look. How else are they going to get you to spend that much on cream for cellulite?!
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