"Hi Han," I said, kissing my best friend and registered sex therapist, Hannah, on the cheek.
"Hey beautiful," she said, giving me a big hug. "How was your business trip?"
"Eventful," I said, taking a window seat at our favorite restaurant overlooking the Navy Pier.
We were meeting for our customary weekly downtown luncheon to get caught up, and I was eager to tell her about my latest adventure visiting Washington, DC.
"Never a dull moment with you, girl," she said, ordering a margarita when the waiter came to our table.
"You have no idea," I said, nodding to the waiter to double the order. "I almost got arrested this time."
"What?!" she said, almost spilling her water after taking a quick sip.
"Yeah, for turning tricks, no less."
"You what?" she said, coughing as her water went down the wrong way. "What the hell were you doing that for? It's not like you're suffering for sex these days. Or for money, for that matter."
"I kind of fell into it. A guy I picked up in a bar left me some money when we finished our business, thinking I was a hooker."
"Why did he think that?"
"Well, I was tarted up pretty good and maybe a little easier to get in the sack than usual..."
"How did that lead to your almost getting arrested?"
"After that first night, I started to wonder how much I could make if I really set my mind to it. So for the remainder of my stay, I decided to make a concerted effort to pick up new customers each night...."
"How much are we talking here?" Hannah said, pinching her eyebrows. "I thought the going rate was like fifty bucks for a blowjob and maybe a hundred for some quick intercourse."
"Not in one of the most expensive hotels in DC, it isn't. I ended up pulling in more than three G’s for three nights' work."
"Holy shit!" Hannah said, taking a gulp of her margarita after the waiter returned with our drinks. "I'd almost give up my counseling job for that kind of money!"
"That's what I was thinking. It's highly addictive get paid to have sex. But I suppose I was pressing my luck going back to the same upscale bar every night. I think I was being watched by an undercover cop."
"Did he have his way with you before he put the cuffs on you?"
"She. And yes she did. But there were no cuffs involved. I think she realized I was a new to this sort of thing and decided to give me a warning. But not before we fucked each other silly with a big pink dildo for the better part of two hours."
"You and your crazy escapades," Hannah said, shaking her head. "One of these days they're going to be your undoing."
"Maybe," I smiled. "But at least I'll die happy."
"How's everything going otherwise?"
"Pretty good. But I had a sex-related question I wanted to ask you today."
"About how not to get arrested while playing out your wildest fantasies?"
"No," I laughed. "It's about my increasing propensity to squirt and emit fluid when I have sex..."
"A lot of women would be happy to have your problem," Hannah chuckled, peering over the top of her glass as she licked the salty rim.
"That's kind of what I wanted to ask you about. Am I just a weirdo? Why do I seem to be the only one among my long list of female lovers who can do this?"
"Actually," Hannah said, placing her glass back down on the table. "Every woman has the ability to squirt when she comes. Most of the fluid comes from a special gland surrounding the urethra called the Skene's gland. It's somewhat equivalent to the male prostate gland insofar as it empties into the urethra if sufficiently stimulated and ejects through your pee hole. But most women have trained their pubococcygeus muscles to resist the flow because it feels like you're peeing when you release the fluid."
"So it's not actually pee?"
"No, it's a clear, mostly tasteless fluid. It actually helps with the reproductive function by providing useful nutrients for sperm to make their way up a woman's reproductive tract after a man ejaculates. If you go back far enough into the history of far Eastern cultures, there's a fairly robust record of women ejaculating when they had sex. It's only a recent phenomenon of our somewhat repressed Christian culture where women have been trained to withhold this natural phenomenon."
"Wow," I said, taking a healthy swig of my margarita. "I had no idea. How come I'm the only one who seems to have learned to unleash the beast, in a manner of speaking?"
"You have to be extraordinarily relaxed and at ease with your partner to feel comfortable coming all over them. Maybe it's because you mostly have sex with women now and there's no competitive pressure to see who can outsquirt who. Or maybe it's because you've had so many partners and you’ve learned how to release your waters."
"Hmm," I said, nodding as I began to feel my pulse return to normal. "So I'm not a deviant, then?"
"Far from it. You could almost argue that the women who resist their natural ability to ejaculate are the abnormal ones. I actually have a friend who conducts workshops teaching women how to do this."
"What, in person? Live and in the buff?"
"There's no other way. It gets pretty explicit actually. Part of the process is revealing exactly where your G-spot is and how to properly stimulate it."
"So, there's a bunch of women in these workshops spreading their pussies for one another to see while jilling themselves in full view of the other participants?"
"Exactly," Hannah said. "You might want to try it sometime. Besides being incredibly arousing, you might be able to teach some of the other girls a thing or two from your own successful experience."
"That's crazy," I said, suddenly intrigued about this masturbation seminar. "What's the name of your friend's workshop and how do I find her?"
"You can find her online. Search for Laila's Fountain of Venus Workshop."
"Fountain of Venus," I smiled. "What a lovely name for something I'd always found kind of dirty and embarrassing."
"Far from it. I think you'll find the experience quite liberating. It's all about reclaiming your natural female birthright and learning to express your sexuality fully."
* * *
When I got home, I flipped open my laptop and plugged in the search words, eager to learn more about this fascinating workshop. When the website came up, it was tastefully designed with beautiful pictures of Georgia O'Keefe erotic flowers and soft, romantic music. The homepage described how the workshop was transformative, helping women overcome negative body images and repressive attitudes to heal their bodies and learn to realize their full sexual potential.
As I clicked on the various links in the menu bar about 'Body Image', 'How to Orgasm', 'Understanding your G-Spot, and 'Freeing your Lotus Spring', I became more and more excited about attending one of the sessions. Although I didn't need help learning how to squirt myself, the idea of watching ten other women rubbing their pussies together and seeing them squirt in unison was incredibly exciting. The price wasn't cheap at one thousand dollars, but that included three full days including all meals and accommodation at a four-star hotel.
I clicked on the Schedule tab and frowned when I saw that the next four sessions were already booked. I'd have to wait more than a month to get in on the next available one in New York City. After entering my credit card information and contact details, I sat back in my chair, feeling my heart pumping excitedly in my chest. It would require another trip away from home, but this time I'd be the one paying to have sex, and it would be in a secure environment along with ten other consenting adults. I noticed a wet stain spreading in the crotch of my jeans and pulled off my clothes and spread my thighs, staring at my dripping vulva.
"Maybe you're not such a weirdo after all," I said, talking to my pussy as I placed two fingers inside my opening and began rubbing my swollen G-Spot. As I closed my eyes and imagined watching the other women rubbing their pussies while they watched me, I could already feel the familiar pangs of an oncoming ejaculation building up inside me.
