This week, I discovered that peegasms are a thing. It was an exciting moment. Up until now, I thought that going to the toilet was a mundane chore we need to perform throughout the day to get to the fun stuff in life like eating, sleeping and having actual sex.
But no, apparently peeing can be a blissful activity in its own right. According to experts you can have a peegasm – a rush of orgasmic pleasure – by holding in your pee for as long as humanly possible and then letting it out. In the toilet, presumably. I think peeing elsewhere is another type of activity.
I wasn’t exactly sold on the idea. As the veteran of a number of urinary tract infections, the idea of holding on till I’m busting evokes memories of cranberry juice and tears. And besides, it needs to be timed pretty carefully. It might be fun to get to the loo in the nick of time, but it isn’t so sexy to pee in the corridor on the way to the toilet.
So for those women seeking a non-sexual way to get their rocks off without the need for antibiotics, I present five alternative gasms to thrill and satisfy.
Eat nothing but raw vegan food for ten days. Subsist on uncooked meals of cashew cheese, hemp vinaigrette, zucchini ribbons, parsnip rice and nutritional yeast. On the eleventh day, when your entire body is screaming with longing, take yourself out for a burger with the works. Hold the hot beef in your mouth as the juices drip down your chin and writhe in delight.
Wear your tightest, most constrictive, scratchy lace underwire bra when you are in the throes of PMS. Spend the day eating salty snacks and retaining water. At bedtime, notice your bra cutting into your skin like the whip of a dominatrix. Undo the clasp and relish the blissful sensation of your breasts escaping from their lacy prison. Lie back and enjoy.
Drink a bottle of wine before bed and set your alarm early. Wake with a pounding headache but do not drink your morning coffee. Sit in front of a screen for three hours but do not drink that coffee. Have an argument with a colleague and sit through an interminable meeting with your boss and take a phone call with an obstreperous client and do not drink that coffee. Finally, when your withdrawal headache threatens to blind you, head to your local café and order a double shot. Feel the caffeine slide inside you, rushing through your body and into your brain in an explosion of euphoria.
Allow your phone to run out of power when you are far from home and expecting a life-changing message. Experience the horror of being cut off from social media. Feel the frenzied need to check your messages. Make the journey home in enforced silence, holding your unresponsive phone in your hand. Arrive home and ram that charging cord into the socket. Wonder why it isn’t turning on. Shove the cord in harder. Fiddle with the knobs. And then scream with delight as the phone bursts into life and that first precious bar appears.
Stay up late and wake up super early the next day. Exercise. Do two loads of laundry. Unpack the dishwasher. Go to work. Slave away all day and eat lunch at your desk. Stop at the supermarket on the way home. Cook dinner. Clean up dinner. Feel your bed calling to you, tempting you to crawl its soft, loving arms. Resist. Put the laundry away and sweep the floor. Parent your children and phone your mother and pay the bills and wash your face. Finally, after being awake for what feels like seven years, succumb to the lure of the sheets. Feel the caress of your pillow, the comforting weight of the doona, the soft, yielding warmth of the mattress. Sink into its embrace. Weep softly with joy. Sleep.