Let’s face it. Most people want their orgasm face to be a secret. A well kept secret, only to be shared with their beloved partner. Some go as far as trying to ensure that not even their partner ever get to see it. Religious belief is wrangled to the extent where taking pleasure in the company of another persons body is considered a sin. But, well. It’s only a sin if someone else see you at it. Take care not to be seen, and it’s all right. Ahem.

People who prefer to live their lives with a wee bit of sin, and gain pleasure from it, are still a bit conservative when it comes to letting other people see them being pleased. Isn’t it strange? You can have hundreds of partners, even make them pay you for an hour of your affection, but yet you don’t want other people to see you while you’re at it. Most of us take this to the point where we hide behind curtains in a dark room. We want our lovemaking to be like fireworks for all of our senses, completely numbing our mind with hundreds, thousands or perhaps millions of impressions of what we feel, what we want, what our partner do and what it feel like to hold another body in our arms.

We feel her smell. There are few things that smell as wonderful as a woman with sex on her mind. Most of us have decided to stop in the middle of a pleasure-giving motion, just to smell her hair. Not to mention her sex, and it’s very own smell. Some scientists even go as far as saying that most of the smell has no odour, yet it drives us nuts. Sex would be nothing without the smell.
Most of us can live without the smell occupying the entire room the day after, but we still appreciate it as a thing that comes from something good. A way to support the memory of the night.

When it comes to being able to tell that other people are having sex, we usually rely on our hearing. We hear the moaning, squeaky bedsprings and sometimes the panty breathing of someone who tries to contain their joy and happiness, fully knowing that they ain’t alone in the house. It’s almost like having sex yourself, you can rely on your own hearing to make a fairly good guess at what’s happening on the other side of that wall. You can rely on it very well indeed. It’s like being there. You can almost see their every move, and feel what they feel.
Yet, it’s nothing compared to what it’s like to hear your own partner moan, to hear your own bed squeak and listen to your own partners heartbeats. Or, for that matter; listen to your own heart. It can tell you strange things if you only let it speak up.

We taste her. Her skin. Her breasts. Her lips. Her other lips. Oral sex is pleasure given. In return, she let’s you know what she tastes like when she’s really satisfied. It’s an interesting thing to know about a woman, not only what she tastes like but also how many times her taste changes while you lick away. It’s also knowledge that you have to earn. Some women will gladly sit on your face to warm up, but will never in their lives let your tongue really, really please.

And, of course. What would lovemaking be without touch? Well, not much. Some people can rely on their mind to please themselves, but most of us need some touch to finally release the pleasure. Come to think of it, the bodies of the sexes are intentionally different to make the touch as hard to miss as possible. It’s as simple as that. The penis is intended to be touched by a woman, over and over. It’s all really strange, the way some things are worked out.
Go ahead, ask any penis you know if it wants to be touched. Figure out how it wants to be touched. It will gladly help you out, since it’s there to be touched. It’s also there to touch a woman from the inside – which is a bit strange, considered that most women say that a penis is only half of what it takes to really feel.
Touch is an important part of not only the main act, but also of forplay. You can touch someone discreetly, and yet they remember it for weeks. Some go as far as saying that you can plant a touch, and come back harvesting the fullgrown desire the next spring. Touch is so important that no relation can function properly without touch, or at least the desire to be touched.

Isn’t it strange that we rely on four senses. After all, we got five.

Light up your bedroom. Not Much. The light just have to be there. It doesn’t have to be there to prove that the room once again need some proper vacuuming, just enough to show your partners body and face. The face will tell you everything you need to know if it’s a new partner where you need all the feedback you can get, and it can tell you everything you thought you already knew if you already know your partner. It will show you thighs, bellies and breasts that are all to happy giving you a show you’ll never forget.
Yet, there is something else to see. Something that is so important that you have to work for it. And work hard you should, because it’s both intriguing, interesting and beautiful; your partners orgasm face.

When was the last time you saw someone elses orgasm face?
Let’s face it. If you can’t really remember, it’s about bloody time. Go tell your partner that you want to please, only to be able to watch when pleasure strikes with full thrust. It’s a suggestion that would make me hard, and probably many others as well.
And, oh. If you can remember, it’s one of them things I rely on you to _really_ remember. It’s not an easy thing to forget. The way pleasure shines in someones face is one of the things that stick to your mind, along with the joy of knowing that you helped that pleasure to come forward and seize your partners body. If that ain’t joy of giving, nothing ever is.

When was the last time you saw someone elses orgasm face, without them intending you to?
This is the tricky question, of course. Most people ain’t very happy with being watched without being allowed to choose to have an audience. let’s respect that part of it, and face the other reasons why you might see someone elses orgasm face. Walk in one someone. Find a naked couple outdoors. The possible situations are endless. After all, when, why and of course where people decide to have sex is a question of letting desire get a hold of your mind, and live it out.

I used to live in an old house, remade to hold four appartments. Mine were on the top floor, with a stair going up from the main floor. I had my own entrance, so nothing weird there.  The only issue were the room right next to my entrance; my neighbors bedroom. No matter how much you keep in mind that the window right next to your front door is someone elses, you just can’t always control yourself. The night I lost control was one where my mind was occupied with everything and anything. The only boss I’ve ever had that I liked really well got fired, with 15 minutes notice. It was snowing. Traffic is like traffic tends to be the afternoon when everyone tries to get home without spending any extra time travelling, even though the road conditions dictate that you actually slow down. I came home late, tripped on a patch of ice while walking back and forth the mailbox. My mind was certainly not showing off. I were not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, and thinking was slow. So slow in fact that when I were standing in front of my door, fumbling to find the keys in my pocket, I noticed a motion in the corner of my eye. Well before my mind could say “Alert. Alert. Neighbours bedroom. Do not look”, I did. And oh did I look.

I knew my neighbour had a new girlfriend. I’d been seeing the two of them strolling around in the vicinity, and since his sister and I were friends, I’d been told loads about her already, but I’d never met her nor seen her up close. The first time I saw her up close made the situation kindof strange. I saw a petite woman taking a ride on my neighbours cock. She was very happy about doing that. At least I have to assume she were, she were moaning enough for me to hear. Outdoors. I’ve been thinking of this situation many times in the past, trying to figure it out how long I stood there watching. I seriously have no idea. It could have been a few seconds, it could have been 10 minutes. Eventually she came. Really hard. It was one of those orgasms that come in pulses, not really wearing off before it strikes again, several times in a row. She finally stopped, just sitting there. In the end she also looked up, seeing me. Realization struck her face, and then she looked me straight in the eyes, smiling.

Weird, that. Women smiling. It always seem to imply that you are in some sort of trouble…

Let's face it. Most people want their orgasm face to be a secret. A well kept secret, only to be shared with their beloved partner. Some go as far as trying to ensure that not even their partner ever get to see it. Religious belief is wrangled to the extent where taking pleasure in ...