She’s a woman in her 50’s,
lying naked on my bed masturbating.
Never having orgasmed before she’s come asking for help. Sitting beside her I watch her body move as she touches herself, clearly enjoying the pleasure.
The skin on her chest starts to flush telling me she’s close to orgasm.
I wish I could capture this moment so she could see how beautiful she looks,
but I stay still, not wanting to disturb her. As the flush on her chest begins to climb to her neck I notice her crease her brow.
Leaning forward I softly touch her face, guiding her to soften too.
“I’m scared” she says. “I don’t know what it’s going to feel like.”
“I’m here with you” I say. “Your pleasure looks so beautiful on you.”
She starts to cry and continues to masturbate,
the flush on her neck now covering the lower half of her face.
The sounds of her orgasm fill my room, followed by the sounds of her sobbing. Smiling through my tears I think “this is what half a century of release looks like” and I’m grateful for the honour of being there with her.
It’s not about feeling better, it’s about feeling more.
Sometimes I’m afraid to look because I don’t want to see the
pain she holds tightly behind her eyes.
I fuss around her, caring for her in other ways
not quite trusting my own ability to cope with it. Knowing that this isn’t right and that I can’t avoid it any longer,
I look — really look — feel her sadness, and begin to cry.
At the sight of my tears,
she turns away — not wanting to see my pain. “We can do this. I know we can” I say to myself, and I continue to look at her until she turns back to look at me.
Holding each other, we cry. We are doing this.
It’s not about feeling better, it’s about feeling more.
She’s sitting across from me in the circle beginning to tell the story of her past trauma and pain. As the words fall out of her mouth, her chest heaves then collapses while her eyes plead with me to rescue her.
The woman beside her looks at me as well motioning with her own eyes for me to do something. My eyes lock with the woman sharing and I reassure her — without words —that I’m here,
she’s a survivor and she doesn’t need rescuing. We’re holding space for her.
Taking a deep breath in, and then out, I watch her body slowly land on her exhale. Her chest lifts and she continues her story.
It’s not about feeling better, it’s about feeling more.
I’m on my back lying under him,
our bodies moving and breathing together,
like a circle, in and out, around and around. His eyes don’t leave mine and I wonder, for a second,if he ever blinks. What does he see when he looks at me in my pleasure?
Is it okay? Am I okay?
I feel heat and energy rising from my vulva to my chest
and I breathe into it,
feeling full — over filled. “I’m going to cry” I say embarrassed, “but it’s not bad.” And I do. I cry through my pleasure while he holds me, breathing in the air that I breathe out.
It’s not about feeling better, it’s about feeling more.
I got this amazing testimonial today from a woman that I did orgasm coaching with a couple of months ago. While I don’t agree that I changed her life – I think she’s the one who did the work and I supported and encouraged her – I can’t think of anything better that she could express than being excited to be with her own self. No matter who she partners with or not, she will always have that as a gift.
“You’ve changed my life! Driving home from out of town. I just had to stop and get off.
This past Spring I travelled to NYC to defend my thesis as a Bodysex facilitator and also to train under renowned Sex Educator, Betty Dodson, to become an Orgasm coach. Since then I have coached several women and the more experience I get, the more I learn to make it my own. During my training, Betty encouraged me to let instinct be my guide and to not be afraid of doing things differently than she does. For the most part I have stayed with her method but I have also added some aspects that reflect my own beliefs and values.
A couple weeks ago I coached a woman who sent me this testimonial afterwards:
“I am excited to practice my new skills, by myself and with a partner and I also believe in my own ability to get there with time! You have really helped me overcome insecurities that I’ve had with my body for many years and helped me take new steps to loving all of me! You have also given me new confidence and helped to become closer to my true self. Yesterday’s experience was more than I could have hoped for and I hope you know how truly incredible you are! You are beauty and thus instil beauty in others!”
The coaching relationship always begins when a woman makes the initial contact with me. Depending on who she is and what her wants and needs are, we often email back and forth several times before finally meeting. If she lives close by I like to meet in person before the actual session, so that she can get a feel for me and me for her. Every woman has unique reasons for wanting the coaching and the more I know about her, before the actual session, the better I am able to support her. Some women have never orgasmed, some can only orgasm with toys and want to learn to use their hands, some want to learn to orgasm in front of their partner, some feel guilt about fantasizing, some have vulva pain, some want to combine masturbation with partner sex and some just want to build on the skills that they already have in order to have deeper, full body orgasms.
After we talk, we do the genital “show and tell” together. Including myself in the show and tell – as a participant and not just a guide – is something that I have incorporated into my coaching. I believe so strongly in the power of shared vulnerability and how it helps us with acceptance of who we are as well as the body that we are in. To do something that requires vulnerability, in the presence of another woman, bonds you together and makes you feel stronger. We need this. After identifying, and learning about all of the parts of our vulva’s we move onto the orgasm practice.
This is another area where I have added my own style. I personally don’t do well with reading or hearing about different techniques and find it beneficial to have them demonstrated to me. So, as the coach, this is what I do. If a woman isn’t comfortable with me demonstrating on myself then I would respect that and teach her in other ways, but so far this way of learning – through watching and doing – has always been welcomed. Once I have shown her different ways to move and touch I focus my attention on encouraging, guiding and teaching her. While I have several toys available for her to learn with, my passion is in guiding women to learn to pleasure and connect with themselves using their own hands. I believe strongly in the importance of learning to touch ourselves with as much intent and love as we would touch another person. Hands are always available and there is no denying the power of skin to skin contact – even if it’s our own skin. Once we have this knowledge we can share it with our partner – with our own hands becoming the teacher. At this time I teach the basics of sensate focus touch, which involves learning to focus on the sensations of the touch and encouraging her to incorporate this into her life alone and/or with a partner.
Guiding and sharing space with a woman as she incorporates her entire body into the build up and release of her orgasm is a privilege beyond measure. Each time I learn as much – if not more -about myself and my own orgasm practice as she does and I am grateful to be able to do this work. For more information please check out my page //natashasalaash.com/orgasm-coaching/
I’ve written this in an attempt to describe orgasm techniques that I have developed from hours and hours of practice alone and during partner sex. When I first began this sexual awakening I found it difficult to understand techniques that were explained in technical terms. I knew that I was supposed to breathe, squeeze my vagina and move my hips and that there were reasons for doing all of these things, but it just didn’t make sense to me to look at my body and my orgasms as a machine and a product that comes from it. My vagina isn’t an “elevator” that needs to lift up and down as some doctors would say. I understand this concept and why this description may work well for some, but this kind of teaching breaks my heart a little bit.
I’m not teaching mechanics. I am encouraging women to look at their body, pleasure and orgasms in a different way. A way where I explain kegals in terms of drawing sexual energy deeper and higher into your body with every squeeze. Where body movement becomes instinctual and is guided by the movement of your hands, where touch becomes a medium for opening up parts of yourself that were closed, and where breath is the life blood of your orgasms.
This intimacy with myself has become my spiritual connection with a higher power and that higher power IS my relationship with my self. Through my orgasms I connect to my body and the world around me in a way that I never knew was possible.
I want to go deeper into me.
Pleasure follows my fingers as they trace imaginary lines over the curves of my body. The more I touch the more I can feel and, with this touch, my pleasure becomes a memory that cannot be forgotten. I make endless discoveries with my fingers – and much like the anticipation of opening a gift – everyday I look forward to discovering what this touch will open up into me.
Leaving my mind and entering into my body I surrender to the feel of my hands on my skin and begin to breathe deeper – more fully. My breath is waking me up from the inside out. Fingers softly touching my thighs my body shudders as currents of sexual energy are waiting to be released. Already close to the edge of an orgasm I’m not ready to let go just yet. I want to go deeper into me.
Following the muscles and contours of my skin my fingers begin to move in a spiral pattern until my hips, unable to stay still, join in. Lured by this circular movement the rest of my body follows and I keep focus on the feel of my fingers on the outside and the flow of my breath on the inside. This is an intimate dance with myself and my touch and my breath are leading the way.
Close to the edge of orgasm once again, yet still unwilling to release the powerful energy flooding into my body, I slow down my breath – drawing it in deeper. Teasing myself with my touch – I give it, then pull it back. Every time I lift my fingers off of my body, the air on my skin draws them back – like an echo calling out for more. I want more of this pleasure. I want more of this touch. I want to open this pleasure up INTO me.
Squeezing the muscles in my vagina I visualize this energy of mine and draw it deeper into me. Up, up, up I pull it inwards until my whole body is filled and alive with the pleasure of myself. Harder now my fingers move on my skin, pressing into the energy that is wanting to explode out of me.
Right on the edge now I just don’t want to let it go. I want to know this place. I want to see what other unopened treasures are waiting here for me. My fingers seek out untouched skin as I deepen my breath and quicken my body’s movements while squeezing my muscles faster and pulling upwards. I’m drawing this energy up higher. Into me it comes.
Overwhelmed now with what I see before me I know that it’s time to let go of this edge. I crave this surrender yet I struggle to hold on. Letting go of the edge means letting go of the control that holds me the rest of the time. Orgasms are my ultimate surrender.
Holding my hand between my legs I moan loudly and let go, and from deep inside of me my muscles contract and release. Each contraction sends off violent and intense waves of pleasure as the energy, that I had pulled up into me, is let go from my body. Waves crash over and over into me, turning my moans into laughter as I press harder against my pussy and move my body faster – riding out this bliss. In this moment I am my orgasm and my orgasm is me. Even if someone else has given it to me, it comes from my power, my strength, my wonder and my pleasure. Knowing this empowers me.
Flushed and sweating I fall back – body shaking from the last waves pulsating through me. I feel alive, awake and open. In awe of my body, my sexual energy, and my pleasure, my hands begin again to trace the lengths of my hips leading to my core. My breath catches as I build towards the edge again…….but I’m not ready to let go just yet…..
I’m in Betty Dodson’s apartment listening to her explain what is involved in Orgasm coaching. I have come to New York to defend my Bodysex certification thesis – which ended up not needing to be defended – and for Orgasm Coach training. Aside from running my own Bodysex workshops, I want to be able to provide one on one help for women who are unable to orgasm or who are struggling with their orgasms. Betty explains that the only way to learn to teach something is by doing, so she is about to coach me through my own orgasms. We share stories and laughter and for the first time with her I feel like a peer. This surprises me considering how much I look up to her. But in her stories I see and hear that she’s human, that she doesn’t always have the answers, she’s always learning and that sometimes she fucks up. I feel her vulnerability at times, as well as her pride, joy and fear. My stomach already aches from laughing at her never-ending dirty jokes – dirtier than anyone my age could get away with. Hearing the voice of my grandma mimic a guy masturbating is enough to put me in tears of laughter. At the age of 85 Betty speaks alternatively like a trucker, a mother, a guide, and a lover. She doesn’t hold back, or try to be perfect and never stops making me laugh.
In the space with her I know that I can be me. Exactly as I am – the good and the bad – and I’m not sure that there is a person in the world that I am more honest with. She has seen me naked, lovingly held me while I opened my vulva to the women in the workshops, held space for me while I cry and has heard my stories. Some I am proud of and some I’m not. Through it all she accepts my honest “I’s” and loves me as I am. In my sharing with her today she looks lovingly at me and says “You’re human Natasha.”
As part of my training Betty leads me through the genital show and tell. I have done this three times before and I don’t feel nervous at all. Close enough so that her arm is over my open leg, and we both can see the same image in the mirror in front of me, she begins by telling me how beautiful I am. These words never lose their power and I feel instant pride in my vulva. Guided through the exploration I discover parts that I hadn’t before and, surprised by this, I am reminded that how we see things is constantly changing. My eyes aren’t the same eyes as they were when I did this back in November and I am grateful for these new eyes to see.
With the genital show and tell complete she leads me to a massage table and asks me to lay down. The room we are in is like a womb and the smell instantly takes me back to all that I experienced before in this space with other women. I feel safe and held as Betty explains the process while constantly finding ways to place her hands on me. She checks my jaw to make sure I’m relaxed, touches my heart, my face, my stomach. She asks me to touch myself and watches with pride in my technique. In my thesis I explained how healing it was for me to learn to touch myself with my own hands and this was one thing that she said she hadn’t really considered. She explained that she grew up touching herself with her hands and almost took it for granted as normal – not realizing how difficult it can be for some. My story reminded her how much this touch needs to be encouraged as a way of connection with self – regardless of whether it ends in orgasm or not.
So with Betty’s constant encouragement and guidance she held space for me to bring myself to orgasm not once – but three times. She was ever so careful to support and encourage when she saw me arch – which cuts off my sexual energy- and yet always stepped back before I came. She stressed that it is important to “Never let your client give you credit for their orgasm. This defeats the purpose of what we are teaching.” So in tune with a woman’s body and how they respond to pleasure she knew exactly when to step in and when to just observe. She marvelled at the pre orgasmic jolts going through my body and explained that they are my sexual energy. I knew exactly what jolts she meant but hearing this explanation was fascinating to me.
On and on she watched me build and pull back, torturing myself with what she called “the best kind of torture.” As my sexual tension built Betty encouraged me to make noise. Normally I would do this already but something about being watched was holding me back. I followed her advice, moaned and instantly orgasmed. Anything that we hold back is holding a part, or all of our orgasm back and this is true for sound, breath and movement as well. As she led me towards my second orgasm she encouraged me to bring the sound out from my stomach or power centre as she called it. To do this she guided me with sounds of her own – very deep, guttural almost ape like sounds – and I instantly came again. I could not believe the difference and intensity in feeling I got from bringing this sound out of my stomach rather than my throat.
After my final orgasm Betty used the vibrator to carry my sexual energy from my vulva, through my belly, heart, throat, forehead and out the top of my head. She held it for a long time on my head and asked me to say my name. “Natasha” I replied. “Say I love you Natasha” she said. “I love you Natasha” I said. Then with tears in my eyes she carried my sexual energy back down through my chakras to my vulva again.
My favourite part of the day was at the end sitting with her and again sharing stories, going over details of the training, asking questions and drinking champagne. I think of all of the women she has helped through the years and I feel so proud to have her blessing to carry on this special work. I will show up naked and hold space for other women with humility and vulnerability, showing my weaknesses as well as my strengths not pretending that I have it all worked out or that I am perfect. I am learning too.
Thank you Betty for being my teacher.
All my love,