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I Kegel. You Kegel. We All Kegel

By Anonymous
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Is there no limit to self-improvement? Is every part of me subject to scrutiny and well, er, repair!

I was thinking this the other day while reading a magazine article about how a woman improved her orgasms through Kegel exercises.

Kegels, in case you don’t know, involve repeatedly squeezing and holding the PC (pubococcygeus) muscle. This is the same muscle that stops the flow of urine. Exercising the PC’s tighten your vaginal muscles, which in turn should give you stronger and longer orgasms.

I’m in. How could I not be? I’m the never-enough girl. I want explosive, mirror-shattering orgasms. I want vaginal muscles that shut like a steel trap. I wanna make him scream this time.

Heeding not those little voices in my head begging me to watch TV and have a beer, I marked off the next 30 days on my calendar with a big “K.” I know for a fact, because my girlfriend, Sus told me that if you can do something for 30 days, you can do it forever. It becomes a habit.

Next, I wrote out my own regimen: squeeze and hold the PC’s for ten seconds. Repeat fifty times. (Does it sound like I have a lot of time on my hands?)

Now, in the article I mentioned earlier, the author goes on about how Kegels can be done anywhere because the movement is so delicate and inconspicuous. No one will ever know. Let me say, this is just not true.

I was at dinner the other night with the Prince, my erstwhile younger boyfriend who squeezed his way back into my life. (Or maybe I phoned him. Whatever.) As we sat in the steak house debating our dinner selections -- porterhouse, T-bone, or filet mignon -- I took the opportunity to catch a few Kegels. I gazed off into space, focused internally on my crotch, and squeezed tightly for ten seconds. As I released my clenched PC’s, a little groan of relief slipped out, barely perceptible.

The prince looked at me suspiciously. “Are you pooping your pants?” He asked. His eyes darted around to make sure no one was looking.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said nonchalantly. “I’m fine. A little thoughtful, maybe. But that’s just my nature.” I clenched my teeth and started counting to ten again. One, two, three, four…

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What was the outcome?

April 16, 2009 - 9:35am
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