3 Things You Can Do With a Turned On Woman

by Hamza Tayeb  Oct 15, 2013

Being connected to a turned on woman is a ride and a practice.

As a man choosing to partake of that, I stroke, I communicate, I penetrate. I make mistakes and make amends. My skills expand, but more importantly than that, my capacity to feel and stay conscious increases as she opens more and more of the nuclear power plant of her orgasm to me.

At certain times, she makes a quantum leap. She gets exponentially bigger than she has been before. Suddenly all the strokes and approaches that I've become accustomed to using to handle her are flat. While I used to be the one driving and pushing towards expansion, suddenly I'm the one with the brakes on. Now I'm getting whipped around and up and down and it's about to go outside my range.

When this flip happens, it's like mortal fear. It means a death—the death of the relationship as it has been. The death of a formula. The death of something static in favor of the dynamic, ever-changing reality that is intimacy between two human beings. And the part of me who once flourished, the part of me who had played and worked and reached this plateau, is terrified. It fights for its life.

But what it is fighting for is not life anymore. It is death. In an odd paradox. Fighting for the life of the old pattern is death. Allowing its death to make room for something new to emerge is life—is the continued life of play and orgasm. The heart needs to break over and over to be broken open.

Which SOUNDS good on paper, but in reality my experience of it is like scaling a cliff face. It has all the ingredients and the power to get me into a state of flow.

In that location, I only have 3 choices.

Disconnect: I can say, "Hey, this game is too much for me. I'm going to go in for something safer, more stable, less volatile, less risky. This woman that my limbic system is connected to is taking me on a ride, and it isn't a ride I care to be on anymore. I'll distance myself and let myself return back to my resting pulse."

Kill: I don't mean literally. When I say kill I mean "kill" her turn on. Squelch it. I might try to use various means to chop her back down to a power level that I'm more comfortable with. Maybe even that she is more comfortable with. This could be shaming, gaslighting, aggression, or intimidation. This one might be conscious, but my experience is more often it is unconscious. And ultimately it is a conspiracy between both partners to stay small and hold each other back.

Finally, I can expand: this means that whatever I have to do to catch up, to speed up, to wake up, to get on the stroke, to get on the spot, to surrender, to let go, I become willing to do it. To be humble. To allow the death of whatever needs to be dropped. Maybe it means the death of the relationship in any form we are familiar with. Maybe it means we both grow bigger and increase in power. Maybe the form changes.

The real fear is never of having her be more powerful than me, having her dominate me, or having her leave me.

Sorry. It just isn't. The true fear is that her ignition and her awakening will catalyze my own. That the pure, unbridled, raw power that begins to flow from her orgasm will light me up. Will ignite me. Will do away with who I think I am, and acquaint me with who I am. That process is scary. Otherwise everyone would do it.

The crucial part is if I'm not disconnecting and I'm not expanding, I'm going to kill. Period. It might be angry and overt. It might be unconscious and subtle. It might be extreme, or it might be perfectly legal in terms of how society views the boundaries of relating. It might even be consensual. It might look like an enlightened form of relating. It could take a thousand forms. Ultimately it doesn't matter; a kill is a kill and it means we both forgo the freedom in intimacy that is our birthright.

The inspiring part is that in the process, everything I thought made me attractive to her, everything I thought I had to be in order to be worthy of her attention and to "keep her," doesn't matter. It isn't the real thing. This is good news, because it isn't about money, status, looks, houses, cars, security, etc. It isn't even about skill or heart per se, though those are important.

It is about the guts, the grit, the nerve to stay connected no matter what. To keep stroking. To say, ok what's happening now, now, now, now, now, and now, and now. The discerning finger, the clear head, the pristine attention, the toughness of spirit, the humility, the diligence. If I have those, I have a place at the table with turned on women, and my reward is my awakening. If I don't, I don't.