Tag: masturbate

  • Why doesn’t anyone tell pregnant women to masturbate to make labour easier

    Why doesn’t anyone tell pregnant women to masturbate to make labour easier

    That orgasm is a womb opening device.

    Why doesn’t anyone count that childbirth is sexual?

    That the same organs are involved, the same hormones.

    Just like to make love, intimacy is required.

    What’s sweat, groans, panting, eyes on white, hips on the move…

    How has birth / sex become so rigid and controlled?

    Getting to orgasm requires putting the brain at rest and lowering the body.

    Giving birth the same.

    The thing is, many women live pretending orgasms, to fit in the patriarchal model.

    The thing is, you can’t fake a labor.

    Oxytocin is the main hormone responsible for uterine contractions, and it is very sensitive; it needs tranquility, dim light and confidence.

    No matter how close you are to running, if someone breaks into the room without warning, or turns on strong lights or talks about something very technical; it cuts.

    They’re all stimulations of neocortex, generating adrenaline, and inhibiting the process.

    They call it failure in labor progress.

    I don’t think this is a failure, no one fails to give birth.

    It’s rather centuries of #sexual repression combined with poor fear-based information that causes all these interventions and unnecessary suffering.
    .
    ′′ Ultimately, birth is a sexual act that would be performed with the maximum gratification of #pleasure for human creatures, if the sexuality of the woman who stops were not destroyed.” Wilhelm Reich
    .
    ′′ We mean it and invoking repeated experiences, and not in the name of theories, philosophies, beliefs, the work of #labor can be a succession of truly appropriate contractions, good, because they are generators of pleasure.”-Frédérick Leboyer
    .
    ′′ Even the divine curse ‘you will give birth with pain’ implied that it was not always so.”
    Author: unknown

  • Priceless Lizard Funny Story

    Here’s what happened:

    Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was “something wrong” with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room.

    “He’s just lying there looking sick,” he told me. “I’m serious, Dad . Can you help?”

    I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do.

    “Honey,” I called, “come look at the lizard!”

    “Oh, my gosh!” my wife exclaimed. “She’s having babies.”

    “What?” my son demanded. “But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!”

    I was equally outraged.

    “Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn’t want them to reproduce,” I said accusingly to my wife.

    “Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?”she inquired (I think she actually said this sarcastically!).

    “No, but you were supposed to get two boys!” I reminded her (in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth).

    “Yeah, Bert and Ernie!” my son agreed.

    “Well, it’s just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know!” she informed me (Again with the sarcasm!).

    By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.

    “Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience,” I announced. “We’re about to witness the miracle of birth.”

    “Oh, gross!” they shrieked.

    “Well, isn’t THAT just great? What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?” my wife wanted to know.

    We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.

    “We don’t appear to be making much progress,” I noted.

    “It’s breech,” my wife whispered, horrified.

    “Do something, Dad!” my son urged.

    “Okay, okay.” Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.

    “Should I call 911?” my eldest daughter wanted to know. “Maybe they could talk us through the trauma.” (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)

    “Let’s get Ernie to the vet,” I said grimly.

    We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.

    “Breathe, Ernie, breathe,” he urged.

    “I don’t think lizards do Lamaze,” his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for God’s sake.).

    The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.

    “What do you think, Doc, a C-section?” I suggested scientifically.

    “Oh, very interesting,” he murmured. “Mr. and Mrs.. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?”

    I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.

    “Is Ernie going to be okay?” my wife asked.

    “Oh, perfectly,” the vet assured us. ‘This lizard is not in labor. In fact, that isn’t EVER going to happen. Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And, occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um…um . . . masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back.” He blushed, glancing at my wife.

    We were silent, absorbing this.

    “So, Ernie’s just…just…excited?”, my wife offered.

    “Exactly,” the vet replied, relieved that we understood.

    More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly.

    “What’s so funny?” I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.

    Tears were now running down her face. “It’s just…that…I’m picturing you pulling on its…its…teeny little…”

    She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.

    “That’s enough,” I warned. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the lizard and our son back into the car.. He was glad everything was going to be okay.

    “I know Ernie’s really thankful for what you did, Dad.” he told me.

    “Oh, you have NO idea,” my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.

    Two lizards: $140.

    One cage: $50.

    Trip to the vet: $30.

    Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard’s winkie: Priceless!

    Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class. Lizards lay eggs!

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/sandi.gruhn