Scene from Insecure (HBO screenshot)

Jillian from Atlanta asks:

I’ve never had an orgasm. With a man. What I’m saying is, I’ve never had an orgasm during sexual intercourse. I’ve been in love. I’ve been in lust. I’ve been in deep like, and no matter the man, it’s never happened for me before or during the act. So, Aggie, can you teach me how to climax?

You can’t be a lady about it.

Now, barring any sexual dysfunction, be it emotional, biological, chemical, etc., you can have an orgasm.

He can’t give you an orgasm.

You’ve never given a man an orgasm.

They make themselves come.

You have to make yourself come.

You can’t be bashful about this. The men you’ve dated never are. They pursue their orgasms with a ruthless single-mindedness unmatched by any other single pursuit of mankind.

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So, first, you have to focus. On you. Fuck him. Fuck his wants, his needs, his desires.

(I would say “or hers,” but stats shows lesbians have way, way, way more orgasms than hetero women. Y’all don’t need my help. Also, I don’t have any help to give.)

Your campaign slogan should be “Me first.”

Stop performing. Stop acting. You’re no actress. You work in accounts payable.

I bet you’re feminist, too, so be your own advocate. (I’m no feminist. Y’all know that. Equality is for peasants. Bend the knee.)

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You have to figure out what you’re into. You probably know. Or at least Pornhub does. So say it. Say it out loud, even if it involves feet or goats or multiple dicks.

Some women want their men to read their minds. They think having to say, “This is what I want,” takes away from the experience. Makes it less organic.

This is true. But you don’t even buy organic. Everything you eat is processed. You have to choose: Do you want organic or an orgasm?

Figure out what turns you on, and make him do it.

Don’t ask his permission. Don’t be apologetic. Put his head where you want it. His tongue where you want it. Or his fingers where you want them. (I’m kidding; no one likes being fingered.) Buy the whip. Heat up the oil. Do a little Ecstasy.

Never walk away from a consensual sexual encounter again until you come. Use him as a tool (umm, that’s literally what they are). Use him as a means to an end.

Don’t fake any moans. Don’t twist and contort to look good. If you’re busy doing that, then you’re not busy concentrating on you. You’re distracted. You’re worried about him. And I already told you, FUCK HIM.

Literally.

Concentrate on the sensations. Pursue a mental fantasy. Spread your labia so his pelvic bone hits your clitoris. Rub it. Keep rubbing it. Introduce toys, vibrators or well-written prose if you’re a sapiosexual (that’s not a thing).

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And don’t EVER, EVER worry about time. Don’t ever feel like you’re taking too long. Don’t you dare spare a thought or a moment to worrying about if his tongue is getting tired, or maybe giving up because he’s done. And now he wants to sleep.

Never has a nigga worried about your tongue or jaw being tired. Even if he loves you. Especially if he loves you.

If he lifts his head up, push it back down. Be nasty about it. Lock your knees.

You care too much. You’re thinking too much.

Be a savage.

Grow up, Jillian.