I admit, I've faked orgasms, but not in the way most people think. When I fake it, it's more like forcing my orgasm to happen. So it's more like for real faking or "fraking" -- fraking is making an orgasm happen when it's apparent my partner is not going to do it for me.
There's an art to fraking, which I'll get to later, but for now let me illustrate my last fraking episode.
I use my experience with Kevin back in March of this year. Kevin and I had been seeing each other for about a month, when it was time to hit home base. The night began with dinner, wine, the usual. Then we headed back to my place, where we proceeded to eat each other alive. Ten minutes after entering my apartment, my bra straps were snapped; a lone Jimmy Choo, kicked off in the throes of passion, sat on my window's ledge. My underwear and my VS stockings were pretty much the next day's garbage. Atmosphere, he was giving me atmosphere -- ripped clothing, passionate kisses, finger licking; all the signs that the rest of my evening was going to be...well, orgasmic.
I'm a dirty talker--it heightens my mood as well as my partner's. "Suck my fucking cunt!" I screamed at him. He did. Poorly. (Note to guys: tongue-fucking feels good, but the clitoris is the hotspot. More clit action, less tongue-fucking. It's not rocket science.) My dirty talk was what kept me excited during the shitty oral sex. Finally, I couldn't take the lackluster head anymore, so I pulled him up and said, "Fuck me."
I'm willing to forgive bad head if a guy can make me come from penetration. If he can make me squirt, then I'll really forgive him. Kevin fit into neither of these categories. Kevin is the type that fucks just good enough to make me frake it. All hope is not lost when I frake it, keep in mind.
Now to the art of fraking: He's inside me, pumping along. It's not spectacular, it's not bad either, just good enough. He's giving it his best. I'm not going to come, but I know I can frake it. I close my eyes and focus on his cock penetrating me. I meet his thrusts and tighten my stomach muscles. I stop breathing and let the tension I'm creating reach a peak. Then I scream and push it all out. He is happy. So am I. I did it six times that night.
I fraked him out.
Fraking is a lesson I learned when faking it became a burden for me. If a guy isn't going to bring me all the way, then I will do it myself. I know the whole "Be Responsible for Your Orgasm," saying, which is fine and dandy, but sometimes I want to be irresponsible with my orgasms. And there are men who allow this to happen, and those are the men I want!
Now, I wonder if I will have to frake it with Him.