Want to Squirt? First, Learn to Let Go!

How I learned that squirting is only one part technique

Last week I squirted again for the first time in almost two years, and it wasn’t at the hands of my partner—although he was watching. After having tried to make it happen together for a long time, Jay and I were invited to attend a workshop on female ejaculation.

We showed up, hopeful to pick up some new clues.

A live demonstration took place, featuring the experienced and empathetic sex therapist and ex-dominatrix Mona. Propped up on a gynecologist chair, her unabashed squirting model Melissa was spreading her legs for the audience to get a direct view of the action. Unfortunately, we didn’t learn much we didn’t already know. Again, we had it confirmed that for someone with experience it seems easy peasy lemon squeezy; like pushing a few buttons, and then, swoosh, a waterfall magically appears.

But, if anyone has ever tried and experimented countless times to no avail, the whole ordeal can feel like an impossible one. How can it look so easy and be so damn hard?

Why the urge to squirt?

Those who ejaculate describe the feeling in a variety of ways: Some absolutely love it and others are so-so. Some experience it similar to an orgasm, while most seem to say it’s a different thing entirely. There are those who have squirting orgasms, meaning they ejaculate and cum clitorally (or in another way) at the same time. The word I hear the most is release—it feels like a major, intense release!

Who doesn’t want that?

Squiring isn’t a must for me and has never been something I’ve done regularly, over long periods of time, but rather with a few different short term partners. My current sex life is fantastic and full of exploration and growth, thus I’m not really missing anything and wouldn’t swop all the squirting in the world for the wonderful (and plentiful) mixed orgasms I’m having regularly.

Still, I do like it, and it is a ton of fun!

Besides, knowing that I have done it and that my body is able to (as I believe all women are) it’s become a point of frustration that I can’t seem to replicate it, or properly communicate to my partner how to help me get there.

For my partner, who hasn’t done it (yet), but knows that I’m capable, it’s been equally frustrating. He’s curious and would love to experience it with me; I know he wants to be able to give me every kind of pleasure available to me.

So, yes, we’ve been trying. More times than I can count.

Do these moves and she’s guaranteed to squirt…

…or so says the myriad of the articles and guides I’ve come across on the topic. And, if they were true, I’m convinced it would have happened a long time ago. But alas, it hasn’t.

Are we still not getting the moves right, or, is something else missing from the equation?

My past experiences with squirting have been with partners who’d already done it a gazillion times before. They were also extremely dominant dudes who’d perfected their domly-craft for years. When they did it, they went in with such confidence and conviction, as well as immense force and rigor, that, when they stared me in the eyes and commanded, LET GO! I was powerless to hold back.

I was basically forced to submit.

Of course, I’d given my consent for them to force me. When I look back I realize that I likely gravitated towards this style of hard domination because I craved to let go—and I couldn’t do it on my own.

Truth is, I’m a stuck-up bitch!

Those who know me might not agree, and it’s not entirely true. But, behind this liberal, easy-going, and free-spirited wildling is someone who demands to hold the reins—a perfectionist and a control freak—someone who needs to be in charge of how others see her. (And part of how I choose to be seen is as described above.)

I understand now, why my first Dom described me as a strong submissive. I don’t ever get on my knees unless I’m made to, or I’m too scared of what will happen if I don’t. I don’t really submit to someone unless they’ve crawled into my brain and taken hold of me in a way that makes my knees wobble in a mix of adoration and terror. Even then, I’ll laugh at the whip in their hand and challenge; bring it! Then, after a hard spanking, as I bite my lip to hold back the tears, I’ll still find a way to hiss; is that all you got?

You get my drift; I’m a brat with a capital B.

It had crossed my mind many times that a reason why I haven’t been able to ejaculate with my last two partners is that; while they both lean dominant, their styles are more on the gentler side. And me, well, I’m a tough nut to crack.

Is breaking me the only way to make me put my guards down?

I was dying to find out, so when Mona announced after her demonstration that she’d be sticking around for a few hours in case anyone needed some pointers, I was quick to snag her for a private demo. Second in line, we waited patiently for our turn.

I honestly wasn’t convinced it was going to happen when I slipped behind the curtain to a private area in the back of the club. Still, I hoped and prayed as I slid out of my panties to place myself in a medical chair with my legs spread wide.

Enter the sex therapist

Mona was calm and confident, with eyes that seemed to pierce all the way into my soul. Her warm smile made me blush, which probably also had something to do with the fact that she, a complete stranger, was about to finger me.

Still, her presence made me feel at ease and I sunk back in the chair.

Jay, who’d been stroking my thighs and belly to get me comfortable, stepped to the side and watched keenly as my Mistress put on black latex gloves and covered them in lube.

—May I touch you? —Yes, go ahead, I smiled shyly.

—Wow, you vulva is a beautiful flower, Mona continued as she folded my inner labia to the side and started pressing against me with the palm of her hand.

I blushed a deeper shade of red and stuttered a thank you, while Jay nodded in agreeance.

—You want to press hard against her pussy, she remarked to Jay, most women like that; it makes us feel safe.

This time, I nodded.

With absolute confidence, she continued to make her way around the outside, lightly tugging my lips, stroking and sliding, while paying close attention to my reactions.

— Always take your time on the outside, she continued to explain in a soft voice, don’t go inside until she’s ready. While the swelling tissue of the pussy is less obvious than the penis, you want to wait for the labia to fill with blood and become enlarged. Wait until she basically begs for you to enter her.

—May I come inside? Mona cocked her head to the side and I nodded again. I’ll show you the difference between the g-spot and the a-spot, she told Jay, you’ll hear the difference.

She pressed once and I moaned deeply.

—G-spot! she declared with a big smile.

Sliding her fingers deeper in, pointing upwards, I jumped in the chair and let out a louder cry.

—A-spot! See that? I think she prefers the latter. But we start easy.

She proceeded to rub and slide, slowly at first, and then faster.

It felt funny to be observed like this, and I struggled to fully lean in. At the same time, everything she did felt so good that I couldn’t help but close my eyes and sigh. My body wanted me to enjoy it, but my brain wanted me to stay in charge. It felt like an internal battle—between my uptight and my easy-breezy selves.

—Good? —Yes, I responded. —Sure? —Yes, I said again.

Then she turned to Jay; I can see why you have an issue…

—Why? we both looked at her for answers. —She’s not letting go, Mona declared. You’re tense! She looked over at me, eyebrows lifted. —How can you tell? Jay wondered. Can you feel it?

She said she could tell from how I replied.

Had I been truly relaxed, I’d moan and sigh in response. Instead, my answers were controlled and articulated.

Mona then instructed me to breathe into her hand, focus only on my breath, and nothing else.

—Make sounds as you breathe out, she guided, let go, just feel, don’t think!

Something about her presence was very convincing, and though she didn’t force or frighten me, I gave in to her demands: I closed my eyes and sunk deeper into the chair. I noticed myself caring less and less about being on display, and I stopped worrying about what I sounded or looked like.

Not long after, that familiar feeling flooded me. At that moment, Mona winked at Jay: Let’s do this!

Then, with skilled fingers, she trusted faster and harder, until, second later, liquid trickled down my butt cheeks.

Teasingly she flicked her wet gloved hand above me to spray me in my own drops.

—Wait, what? She did it? Jay was even more surprised than I was, but had a big smile on his face.

—Yes, she did! Want me to do it again?

We both agreed.

I proceeded to squirt twice more until she declared that she thought I was done, and she was right. Gazing at the mess I’d made on the floor, I couldn’t help but laugh at the whole situation.

I did it! I let go!

Our lesson with Mona confirmed that, yes, it is possible—and, yes, I can still do it—and no, it isn’t really ‘that’ hard.

What we took away

Few will deny that technique matters a lot when it comes to squirting and Mona certainly knew what she was doing. But, the tricks won’t work unless the person who’s trying to squirt allows themselves—or are made to—let go. If not, someone can push the right buttons until all the cows come home, and the only one left is you, with little but a chafed vagina to show for it.

We also learned that I don’t necessarily need a hard-ass-dom to make me give in. Instead, what I need is a bit of convincing to get out of my own overthinking, controlling head and into my body—and this works, even without vigorous force and a strict bassy voice.

So, if you’re either trying hard to squirt, or to make someone else do it, keep in mind that the solution might not be at just our fingertips, as we’re often told. When it comes to squirting, it’s mind over matter first.

Only once those mental sluice gates are open wide will the dam flow!