With one hand I cupped my naked vulva, as I lay on my back in a “nest” of folded towels and blankets, strategically placed on top of a yoga mat. It was Day One of the Awakening Your G-Spot workshop that a dozen or so other women and I had signed up for at the Humaniversity, on the coast about an hour north of Amsterdam.
It was the first time I had taken my pants off in a workshop setting.
The day before, I had excitedly flown to The Netherlands to study with one of the premier teachers of female ejaculation. Five years after establishing Venus Matters
, I had discovered that women with this “super-power” were some of my best customers, and yet, I had never experienced it myself. So I was more than a little curious…
“Now tap tap, tap, like a butterfly’s wings, on the lips of your vagina,” chirped our fearless leader, Deborah Sundahl. Then she instructed us to put a finger at the top of the opening of our vaginal canals, and pause.
Deborah is a petite woman, with thick glasses and a doe-like expression peeking out from behind a head of tasseled gray-blonde curls. She’s no Instagram star but she’s a pioneer in the field of female sexuality. Deborah wrote the book “Female Ejaculation and the G-spot” (Hunter House, 2003/2014) and has been giving lectures and teaching workshops since 1983 on unlocking the deeper pleasures of the G-spot.
Locating this famed pleasure region was easier than I had imagined—it’s not so much a bulls-eye but rather an entire region of tissue. Earlier that morning, we had used flashlights and mirrors to locate the outward-facing part of this organ which creates a fleshy mound surrounding the urethral opening. Some of us had even shown our vulvas to the other workshop participants who, after symbolically “knock, knock, knocking” in the air above our nest, were allowed (if we wished) to peer with us into awkwardly held small mirrors. As we walked around the room, the women expressed “oohs and “ahs” praising the subtly different, yet clearly visible, “heads” of each others’ prostates.
Wait, women have prostates?! The short answer is, yes.
Despite some debate surrounding its existence, Deborah pointed out that the mysterious fluid that this network of glands produces has actually been known and named for centuries. Called Liquor Vitae by the Ancient Greeks, Nectar of the Gods in Ancient India, The Third Water by the Taoists, and Amrita in the Tantra traditions, female ejaculate has clearly been around for as long as women have (so much for any controversy!). Female ejaculate contains minerals (like zinc), hormones (like serotonin), and prostatic acid phosphatase, or PSA (an enzyme also emitted by the male prostate and found in semen, which helps with sperm motility). Oh, and it contains urine too, just like semen.
Deborah wanted us to get to know this overlooked organ in our bodies. Like, really get to know her.
With our fingers exploring the head of the prostate, she asked, “What are its physical sensations?” Then she guided us, ever so slowly, exploring the sensations and feelings and tuning in with our fingers as we navigated this newly discovered terrain.
Like the clitoris before it, a complete picture of this organ (for some ridiculous reason) continues to elude many humans, even though the term, the female prostate, was codified in the medical journals in 2001. Previously referred to as the Skene’s gland, it was first named after a Victorian doctor who claimed it was vestigial (only consisting of two glands) and sometimes became clogged. Modern-day studies looking at the cellular structure of the female prostate show that it actually consists of some 35 ducts and glands, and measures around 5 cm long. This branch-like organ surrounds the urethral canal, stretching from the fleshy part we could easily see surrounding the urethral opening, ramping inside of the top of the vaginal canal, ending in a (sometimes) soft, pillowy area a few inches inside the vagina.
We learned that women’s prostates are just about as unique as their vulvas. An article about this elusive organ in NewScientist.com (offensively entitled, “Bigger is Better when it Comes to the G-Spot”), suggests that some women may have such small prostates that they are incapable of having G-spot orgasms. Deborah begs to differ. “Every woman can have a G-spot orgasm and ejaculate because they have a functional female prostate,” she says, “They just may not know that they can.”
Before this workshop, I had never actually considered whether or not I had a prostate. I had never “squirted” so I assumed the possibility of becoming a femme fontaine (as the French call it) just wasn’t in the cards. Sure, I had explored what I thought was my G-spot with my partner, but that was misguided: we had fixated on a hard-to-access spot, deep inside the vaginal canal and behind the clit.
It was enlightening to finally and fully meet her…
Our first day together at the workshop consisted of perhaps four or five of these reflective touching sessions, filled with stillness and listening, following Deborah’s bird-like script. I was delighted to discover that this simple and powerful technique began reconnecting me to my body in ways I had been longing for.
You see, after experiencing menopause, and a decade-long relationship with a man who usually wanted sex late at night or early in the morning (when I often felt my turn-on at its lowest) I had, in many ways, lost touch with my once insistent sex drive. I had come to this workshop half-hoping for a renaissance of desire. The pleasurable stirring I felt arising through this tender practice had already delivered.
That evening, after a vegetarian buffet dinner in the bright dining hall at the Humaniversity, we gathered in a small circle back in our room to display our sex toys. Deborah critiqued which were best for inducing female ejaculation, and which were the wrong shape or, even worse, made with hidden toxins and, therefore, no bueno for the highly absorbent tissue of the vaginal canal.
The next day, our circle of women gathered again and it was clear the walls between us had begun to come down. As a soft rain fell outside, tears were shed (about the loss of desire and the experience of sexual trauma), arguments erupted (was it medical bigotry or internalized victimization that kept women suffering at the hands of all-too-often male doctors?). The push and pull of female bonding was on full display between women from Russia, France, Israel, Poland, the Netherlands, and America.
Soon, the talking stopped, the tears evaporated, and it was time to lie down again in our solitary nests. The air was charged because this time, we were spelunking for a G-spot orgasm.
The clitoral orgasm, Deborah explained, is fired by the pudendal nerve but a G-spot orgasm would require us to ignite the vagus nerve. Running along the core of the body, this nerve is connected to the parasympathetic control of the heart, lungs, and digestive tract. After yesterday’s intensive listening to our bodies, we were ripe for a pleasurable deep-dive into these subtler realms.
As we settled in, Deborah said it was highly unlikely that we would tap a G-spot orgasm lying on our backs, so she instructed us to sit up or drape our arms over a chair for better results. Soon the heat in the room increased, along with the gentle moans of a few of the more vocal participants—which, as was later revealed, heightened the pleasure for many in the group.
After a few minutes, Deborah said that, if we wanted to assist in the G-spot orgasm, we could touch our clits gently at the same time. “It’s ok to blend it a little,” she said. So I did, and I came. But was it a G-spot orgasm? I didn’t know—and maybe it didn’t really matter—I was just enjoying an easy resonance with my pleasure-body. Putting the toy aside and cupping my vulva again, I relished my ability to privately orgasm in a room with other women. It was a sweet and pleasurable triumph.
Lunch was well deserved by all.
Our afternoon session began with Deborah asking if the group wanted to go for the lauded ejaculatory orgasm? Everyone, it seemed, was game. So down we dove, into meditative bliss. By now, Deborah’s script had gotten a little too familiar, so we asked her to let us freestyle. She easily agreed (after all, her motto is “Let it flow!”)
This time I leaned forward, with one arm on the seat of a chair, covering my head with a red blanket to create more privacy. Slowly, slowly, I began tapping my vulva, then gently massaging my G-spot using the techniques Deborah had taught us. Gradually, I felt a fullness growing in my yoni, a warmth that began to rise like a sun in my yoniverse. It almost felt like I had to pee but I had urinated right before the session began. Was I tapping into that ephemeral well-spring!?
What if I simply “let go,” as Deborah had suggested? Why hold back? Then it happened—a small gush of fluid squirted audibly on the layered towels. My immediate reaction was, “Did I just pee?” Then a flash of shame and a sudden realization: this must be why some women feel insecure about their natural ability to ejaculate. This was the mixed blessing of being a feminine fountain.
It turns out that learning how to female ejaculate isn’t so much about doing something, rather, it’s about not doing: Not clamping down or holding back. Not rushing to the bathroom when a fullness builds during sex. And finally, not worrying about whether it’s pee or just overflowing pleasure.
Thanks to Deborah’s powerful guidance, I now know in my bones that my desire grows when I pay attention to and deeply love my own body. I understand how a feminine fountain naturally arises by letting the pleasure build in its own sweet time and then truly, fully, letting go. Awakening your G-Spot is all about allowing the female prostate do what it naturally does: generate and release a fluid that some call the nectar of the gods.
Amrita found and freed.
PS. Next time, I’ll use a Venus Mat.