My Spontaneous Orgasm
I went searching for enlightenment and found it in an orgasm — not the turn I was expecting my first LSD trip — at age 52 — to take.
It was a spontaneous orgasm, without a hand upon me, not even my own. It was cacophony of red and orange centered in my pelvis, and then an explosion of blue and white, all in my head, expressed by my body as it shook and I let out a a guttural scream.
It proved beyond a doubt that orgasms, for me at least, are all about my head … what I’m thinking, what I’m not thinking and what I’m feeling.
The acid had been secured a lifetime ago — when my husband and I were still together and we had begun pushing the boundaries of our middle-aged life and 28-year-old marriage by having more sex than we ever had in our lives. One night, when I talked about our expanding sex life to some of my girlfriends — upstanding middle class women — one of them surprisingly commented “you should try sex on mushrooms,” while the other insisted that sex on ecstasy was the best.
When I returned home from dinner that night, I shared this revelation with my husband. Neither of us had really ever done drugs– he had smoked pot occasionally. I had tried it twice and didn’t really feel anything, probably because it couldn’t breach my inbred uptightness. I was the girl in college who panicked when my friends sat on their dorm floor and passed around a joint. “What if you get caught?” I pleaded. They shut the door on me.
My husband listened passively to what my girlfriends had told me. I wasn’t even sure he was paying close attention. But two weeks later plain white packages began arriving at our house. First mushrooms, then ecstasy and finally acid. The mushrooms did very little for me. Ecstasy was better. I felt so happy and loving when I took it. But it depleted my serotonin and left me depressed the next day.
The acid tabs, tested and ready to go, sat on a shelf in a closet for months. One day I suggested to my husband that we take it together that weekend. He demurred, but when I returned home from brunch with my girlfriends that same weekend, he was sitting on the couch, tripping because he had taken acid without me.
That he had embarked upon what I thought would be a lovely mutual experience by himself was a red flag to me about the lack of communication and true intimacy in our marriage — despite all the recent sex.
We separated six weeks later.
In the immediate separation of possessions, he gave me half of the acid we had left. I took it with me in an envelope, thinking I would sit on the floor of my apartment and go for a little trip. But months went by without a full free day to set aside to experiment. Finally, with a clear weekend in sight, I asked one of my new male friends to “babysit” me at his house.
I was hoping the acid would dissolve my ego, allow me to shed my inner critic and embrace a universal love. It wasn’t strong enough to illicit that reaction, but it was enough to take me to a place inside of myself deeper than I had ever been.
The trip began about 30 minutes after swallowing the piece of paper. I began feeling wobbly, and a little nauseous. I wanted to lay down. So my friend and I climbed the stairs to his bedroom. I was hoping we could have sex before I was completely gone, so we undressed and played a bit. But my whole body was so sensitive — it felt as if my fingers were as much as an erogenous zone as my clitoris — that I couldn’t really fully enjoy his penis in my vagina. There were too many competing sensations. It was overwhelming. I pushed him off and laid there, tingling all over my body. Then I felt this orange and red light spreading from my vagina to all parts of my body. My toes to my head were engaged and infused with a sensual energy. All of the sudden I exploded and screamed out as the energy radiated out into the room.
I collapsed into the bed, opened my eyes and looked over at my caretaker laying on his side watching me: “I just orgasmed” I told him. “I know, I saw,” he said. I laid there for a while longer and asked him “did that really happen or was it in my head?” “Oh, it happened,” he said, grinning.
Ironically, I had been recently focused on trying to orgasm more easily with a partner. I was reading books and researching how to better connect my head to my sexual pleasure.
I love sex, I am not self-conscious about how I look or what I am doing when I have sex. The world fades away and I just enjoy myself and my partner. Yet… there’s still that inner uptight Catholic girl who often prevents me from experiencing a body-shaking orgasm with a partner.
LSD shut that girl up and proved to me that my orgasms are not about my vagina or clitoris or sexual position. It’s about my relaxing my brain and appreciating all that my body can feel.
