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years to find a man who knew how to touch it. I figured out a long time ago when I was a little girl that if I barely touched it, it felt amazing. I knew to start up higher, near my bone, not directly on the clitoris. I knew that if someoneelse did it, it would feel even better. But no one ever took enough time. I’d say, “Barely touch me,” and the guy would zero in and press down and then massage like I had a muscle kink that needed kneading.
    I’d try not to shriek at them, but it was awful. It was painful. I know I should’ve shown them what to do. I should’ve talked to them about it before we got in bed. But I always hoped the next guy would know what to do and that he’d listen to me when I told him to barely touch me.
    I met Mike when I was 32. I really liked him. On our third date (the sex date), I was nervous about what would happen. When we got in bed, Mike’s fingers were feather light. He started at my stomach and he made circles and wavy lines almost in the air above me. Even when he got close to the clitoris, he didn’t change his approach. The light touches gave me shivers. I couldn’t believe a sensation could be so overwhelmingly good. Pure happiness shot through me. It was the best sex of my life. It was a deal-sealer. A deal-sealer! We got married two and a half years later. —Laura, 35
    CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE FIRST KIND
    The first time a boy touched my clitoris was when I was about 9 or 10 years old. He was a kid my age. His family was staying in the hotel my family owns. I don’t know how exactly I came to be lying down with him massaging me. I’m sure we were playing doctor (had to be that), but I don’t remember any details—except how his hand felt on top of my shorts. Fantastic. I didn’t know he was touching my clitoris and I don’t even know if he knew. I was just astonished that anything could feel so good. I didn’t move or speak in case he’d stop.
    I thought about that afternoon a lot afterwards. I’m talking for years afterwards. I wondered what he’d done exactly and about how good it’d felt. I didn’t talk about it and didn’t ever try to touch myself (looking back, I wished I had). Seven years later, at 17, I got a boyfriend who touched me through my shorts and then took them off. And I felt the magic again. At that age, I still don’t think I knew where my clitoris was (or what it was). But I was finally very motivated to learn. —Suzanne, 33
    JUST FOLLOWING ORDERS
    The clitoris wants consistency. Why don’t men know this? I can’t tell you how many guys I’ve been with who don’t take what I say literally. During sex I’d scream, “Right there, don’t stop.” Hearing this, these guys would somehow think, “If she likes that, wait until she sees this,” and they’d do something completely different. I thought I was on track to have the best orgasm ever (or the best this week) and the guy would blow it.
    After too many experiences like this, I decided to get this straightened out upfront. In the profile I posted on the Internet, I wrote, “If I say, right there, don’t stop. I mean RIGHT THERE, DON’T STOP.” You have to be clear. Men can get too excited in the moment. They want to please you, but they get carried away. The best time to give directions is when they’re calm. My current boyfriend understands the meaning of “don’t stop.” Which makes him the best lover I’ve ever had. —Dara, 36
    A RUN TO THE FINISH
    I got my clitoral hood pierced a couple years ago. I heard it would make sex more intensely pleasurable, and I thought, Why not? If it doesn’t, I’ll take the ring out. The piercing itself hurt—much more than when I had my ears done. I won’t pretend it didn’t. But I don’t regret doing it.
    A month after I got the newsecret ring, I was in Las Vegas at a convention for work. I was late and tried to make the light across a broad street—six lanes of traffic—to get to the convention hotel. I was wearing very tight new