On their return from eating, they started to watch television. Many of the shows were in color, but they were all comedies until later than they planned to be up. They turned the set off, again. Vic got up from the couch, and went into the bathroom. When she returned, she was wearing her “surprise;” a new pair of pajamas. She modeled them as she came back into the room.
The top was an extra-long blouse, constructed like a man’s long-tailed dress shirt, but of a shiny, satiny fabric. There were buttons down the front. The bottoms were shorts, like her other pajamas, but of the same satiny material. She came into the room, and stood close in front of him.
“Where did these come from?” he asked.
“I bought them at home. If you had rifled my suitcase a little deeper, you would have found them, and ruined the surprise. I went with Mandy to buy them. I didn’t think I wanted to try to explain to my mother why I was purchasing slinky, silky nightwear for a girls’ dorm.”
“Probably wise.”
“How do you like them?”
“From what I can see, very much. The material looks very silky.”
“You can touch it – see how it feels.”
He did – in fact, he let his hands wander up and down over the whole outfit, pausing now and then to give a little longer touch. “I am finding them most inspirational.”
“I thought you would.”
She crawled into bed. He went into the bathroom. When he returned, Vic was sitting up in bed. He unbuttoned her satiny pajama top, and was soon exploring her torso with gentle fingers and lips. She was not objecting, but her mind wasn’t completely on the activity.
“Greg, do you know what college girls talk about more than anything else?”
He paused briefly. “Not knowing for sure, but guessing, it would be college boys.” His began his wanderings, again.
“Yes, but more specifically, what about college boys?”
“Again guessing, but logically, I would say sex.”
“Yes.” She seemed to be realizing his presence for the first time. “Greg, what are you doing?”
“I am peregrinating.”
“Peregrinating? What is that?”
“Like the peregrine falcon, who acquired his name from his wanderings far and wide, I am peregrinating. The peregrine’s kingdom is more expansive than the one I survey, but no grander in detail or interest, believe me.” He accentuated that by moving his hands and his lips a little farther down her torso.
“Peregrinating. I’ve never heard it called that. Like the peregrine, you are having a good time, I take it?”
“Yes, I am. Are you?”
“I’m finding it stimulating, but it is distracting me from talking about sex.”
He raised his head to look at her. “You would rather talk about sex than….?”
She grinned at him. “I refuse to answer to the grounds… Well, you know the grounds. Suffice it to say that, in this situation, I want to talk about something specific about the subject.”
“Okay.” He raised himself up, and began to button her blouse. He went about it slowly and meticulously, then took a few more moments to make sure that it was comfortably draped over her. Only then did he lay down beside her. “Okay, woman. Talk.”
“Okay. So, as I think we’ve discussed in the past, high school girls talk about sex a lot. But their experiences are mostly what I will call ‘front car seat’ activities – going steady, kissing, and such. We knew a few girls who had clearly been in the ‘back seat’ – and we suspected some others - but for most of us, it was pretty tame stuff. Still, girls like to share, and so it was fair game to ask how many boys you’d kissed, or ‘how far’ you’d let a boy go.”
“What did you say to those questions?”
“Actually, until you – and you have been mostly after graduation – I didn’t have anything to share. I’d kissed a few boys, but you were the first one I ever kissed twice. Because all the girls recognized how ravishingly beautiful I am, they all suspected that every boy in school was after me.”
“Were they?”
“I don’t know. I never looked back. Anyway, when I’d just smile and not share anything, some of the girls thought I was wonderfully mysterious. Most of the others just thought I was snobby and selfish, not to share.
“So, anyway, skip to college. Here, everybody just seems to assume that you’ve all been in the back seat – or are trying to get there. So, the first question always becomes, are you a virgin? Few women admit they are, but I bet there are really a lot more than admit it.”
“What do you say?”
“I just smile and say, ‘My boyfriend is very attentive,’ and let them make of it what they will.”
“So, still the mysterious beauty?”
“And probably still with the same reactions of either wonder, wistfulness, or jealousy - or annoyance that I won’t share. But now we come to the second question asked: have you had an orgasm?
“An orgasm?”
“Greg, did you know that many women – maybe most women - seldom if ever have orgasms during sex?”
That stopped him for a moment. “Well, let me see. If I was sure I knew what an orgasm was… “
“Greg, you have helped me achieve two and two-thirds orgasms in only three tries, and you don’t know what an orgasm is?”
He hesitated, a little too dramatically. “Well, I wouldn’t say that I don’t know. I’d just like to hear it defined from a female perspective.”
She gave him a silent “you are a nut” look. “Well, since you ask, an orgasm is the female equivalent of what happens to you when you… what, explode?”
“Ejaculate.”
“Ejaculate. Is there such a word? It doesn’t sound very sexy.”
“How about, reach a climax?”
“Okay, I like that better. The female doesn’t have the exterior equipment to make her climax as visible and obvious as the male’s. She does, however, have body parts and areas that react similarly when stimulated similarly. From watching you - and feeling me! - I think our climaxes must be very similar.”
“Very nice explanation,” said Greg.. “Now, to clarify the question, you wonder why what you and I have been able to achieve so readily is so rare among the female population, at large?”
“Exactly.”
“Further, despite your knowing what a neophyte I am in all things related to love and sex – and having an immediate example of how little I know about orgasms – you still would like me to posit a reason?”
“If posit means to offer a possible explanation, then yes. Posit, away.”
“Okay. Well, back in the early days of our country… “
“Greg!”
“Hold on. This really is background for my positing. As I started to say, in early America, women were not supposed to be interested in sex. They were only supposed to be available to take care of their husbands’ sexual needs. If they acted like they might enjoy a little sexual stimulation of their own, they were considered brazen hussies, or worse.
“Women had been under male rules about sex for so long that probably many didn’t know that they had a right to have sexual feelings, and might even have been ashamed when they did have them. Probably, most men didn’t know there was such a thing as a female orgasm. Since I think men in general reach a climax more quickly than most women, even perceptive men might have missed any signs that their mates needed more attention. So, when the man was satisfied, the session was over.
“Along came ‘women’s lib’ and sexual freedom, and women are learning what they can achieve, and what they have a right to. Some men are learning, but it’s taking time for any real equality to develop. From what you say, having an orgasm has become the principal evidence of female sexual satisfaction, but most are still not achieving it.”
Vic seemed to be thinking about what Greg had been saying, and didn’t immediately respond. “So, assuming that your ‘posit’ is correct – or at least in the ballpark – how do things get equalized?”
“I’m glad you asked. It reminds me of something I heard in church.”
“Greg!”
“No, really. Stay with me a minute, and I think you’ll see what I mean. One of the churches I went to several times was Pentecostal. One of the things they believe in is ‘speaking in tongues.’ Are you familiar with that?”
“No.”
“Okay. Well, the story is that after Jesus left Earth, he sent down his Holy Spirit to guide Christians until he returned. When the Spirit descended – this is in the Books of Acts in the New Testament - it came on those watching and praying ‘like a mighty wind,’ and everybody started speaking in languages that they didn’t know. Some of the people in the vicinity were amazed to hear these locals speaking in the languages of their native lands. But others weren’t hearing it that way, and suggested that the speakers were just drunk on red wine. I can relate to that!”
“Yes, you can.”
“However, the apostle Peter spoke to the crowd, and said that the speakers were not drunken, as they supposed, but were filled with the Holy Spirit. Over the years, ‘speaking in tongues’ in Christian churches became divisive. Some denominations choose to ignore it, and some think it was a one-time manifestation. The Pentecostals believe it is a gift for today, and some go so far as to suggest that you’re not really a full Christian – one ‘filled with the spirit’ – unless you speak in tongues.
“This latter belief has led to a lot of people trying everything possible to ‘speak in tongues.” They’re told to hold their mouths a certain way when they pray, or to utter funny little syllables of their own, thinking that might encourage the ‘god words’ to come. There are dozens of suggestions offered to make it easy for the Holy Spirit to get in. It’s pretty crazy and futile, but they keep trying.
“I think the pastor at the church I visited thinks that everybody can speak in tongues, but he views it as a total package: get right with God, and lead a full, prayerful life, and when God needs you to speak in tongues, you will. He tries to discourage the obsession with ‘tongues,’ but it’s a hard sell. Everybody wants that experience.”
“Very interesting story,” said Vic, “And I think I see where you’re heading. The orgasm has become the quest – the ‘speaking in tongues’ of female sexuality – but,, like any quest, you have to take the journey to get there.”
“Yep. And I guess that’s the reason that knowing about orgasms, and wanting one, is not resulting in a lot of ‘liberated’ women having them. Women need to take the initiative of ‘educating’ their partners about what they want. Men are not going to guess. Then, because men can climax so much more quickly than women, both partners have to be willing to spend the extra time necessary for equal satisfaction to occur.”
“So, how have we done so well, so quickly?”
Greg smiled at that. “I think it was mostly about lack of knowledge, and happy circumstances. First, neither of us was looking for anything in particular, except to find another way to express our love for one another. We had no preconceived notions. You were content to let me explore at will, and because you had already helped me with my orgasm, I wasn’t under any emotional pressure to speed things up. I could go on forever, just peregrinating.”
“I seriously doubt you could have gone on forever.”
“You’re right, of course. That was an overstatement. Even the strongest of us have our limits. Anyway, as I continued with my explorations, I finally found the places you needed me to find, and then you guided me to the finale. It turned out very nicely for both of us.”
“It certainly did.” Suddenly, she gave a little chuckle. “Sorry, I was just having an irrelevant – or maybe irreverent - thought. A while ago, I said something about your ideas ‘being in the ballpark.’ Do you know the baseball game that high school guys play when they’re trying to seduce girls?”
“I’m not sure I do, never having been trying to seduce high school girls, and not hanging out with the boys who were trying.”
“Well, a boy gets to first base when you let him kiss you. I forget the exact things that happen to get him around the bases, but he scores a run when… Well, you know when. What I was thinking is, that works for the man, but how does the woman rate her trip to her orgasm?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one. The early stages are pretty much the same for men and women. It’s the finale that counts. In baseball, you can reach ‘home’ a variety of ways. A pitcher can load the bases, and then walk in a run. That’s good for the team, but not very exciting. Similarly, a run could score off a wild pitch, a fielder’s error, or just a good solid infield hit. Those are a little more interesting. Then, of course, there’s the home run, often hit out of the park. That is a real thrill, but I doubt many high school seducers get their ‘score’ that way. Most such seductions are probably pretty commonplace.
“Now, when a woman reaches orgasm, I think that home run is a blast clear over the center field wall and out of the ball park. If the climax comes as a result of a long session with a much-loved companion, then I think it could qualify as the ultimate in home runs – a grand slam, clearing the bases, as well as the ball park, and sending the ‘players’ into exhilaration as no other ‘score’ can.”
“Wow! I almost had my fourth orgasm just listening to your description! For somebody who knows nothing about women and sex, you tell an amazing story.”
“Thank you. I can only do it because you are my inspiration. But before we get completely off this subject, I need to ask a question. It’s this: you keep describing your orgasms as two and two-thirds out of three. What was wrong with the two-thirds one? “
“Absolutely nothing! All three were wonderful. Probably the first is a little more memorable just because it was the first, but, really, they were all excellent.”
“Then, why…?”
She gave him a mischievous smile. “Well, it’s something I borrowed from the Olympics. In the Olympics, when a judge gives a skater or a gymnast, a 9.8 score rather than 10, we probably can’t see anything to deduct for. A lot of the time, the performer probably can’t, either. Or a sprinter loses a race by 0.02 seconds. It looks like the same as the winner to us – a photo finish. But what do those scores mean to the athletes? The skater or gymnast knows it was a great performance, but something about it was thought less than perfect. For all practical purposes, the runner tied the winner, but – on paper - it was a second place finish. In both cases, being not quite perfect, encourages – no, it compels - them to try for a better score next time.
“In the same way, we will look at that two-thirds score, and feel compelled to improve on it next time. And I wouldn’t be surprised if that compulsion eventually rates us not a 10, but maybe an 11 or 12. Think about that!”
“I am thinking about that. Would you like to try now for a new record?”
“Actually, if it’s all right with you, I’d just like to go to sleep in your arms, and maybe dream about the next time.”
“That is very fine with me.”
Later that night, they moved the record to three and three-quarters.
And that’s how October 1 ended.
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