Show Notes Episode 156: Outsourcing My Orgasm

Today on our show, we bring you a story by Jenny Powers. Jenny is a New York-based freelance reporter. She writes for HuffPost, The Cut, Business Insider, Fortune, and more. She is working on a memoir called, "Smooth Operator: Confessions of an Accidental Phone Sex Vixen." You can see more of her work at https://www.clippings.me/jpowers.

Jenny’s essay originally appeared in The Cut and is titled “Outsourcing My Orgasm.” We trimmed just slightly for the podcast. We love so many things about Jenny’s essay, and we talk about that in detail on this episode. She is vulnerable, honest, and expertly turns a unique situation into a universal story about weight, sex, and marriage.

Writing Class Radio is hosted by Allison Langer and Andrea Askowitz. Audio production by Matt Cundill, Evan Surminski, Chloe Emond-Lane, and Aiden Glassey at the Sound Off Media Company. Theme music is by Marnino Toussaint.

There’s more writing class on our website including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats, and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. 

If you want to write with us every week, you can join our First Draft weekly writers groups. You have the option to join me on Tuesdays 12-1 ET and/or Thursdays with Eduardo Winck 8-9pm ET. You’ll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. If you’re a business owner, community activist, group that needs healing, entrepreneur and you want to help your team write better, check out all the classes we offer on our website, writingclassradio.com.

Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write, and most importantly, the support from other writers. To learn more, go to www.Patreon.com/writingclassradio. Or sign up HERE for First Draft for a FREE Zoom link.

A Transcription of this episode is available here.

Join the community that comes together for instruction, an excuse to write, and most importantly, the support from other writers. 

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There’s no better way to understand ourselves and each other, than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What’s yours?

If you would like a transcript of the episode read below:

0:00:19 - Speaker 2

I'm Allison Langer.

0:00:20 - Speaker 3

I'm Andrea Askewitz, and this is Writing Class Radio. You'll hear true personal stories and learn how to write your own stories. Together, we produce this podcast, which is equal parts heart and art. By heart, we mean the truth in a story. By art, we mean the craft of writing. No matter what's going on in our lives, Writing Class is where we tell the truth. It's where we work out our shit. There's no place in the world like Writing Class, and we want to bring you in.

0:00:52 - Speaker 2

Today on our show we're bringing you a story by Jenny Powers. Jenny is a New York based freelance reporter. She writes for HuffPost, the Cut Business Insider, fortune and more. She is working on a memoir called Smooth Operator Confessions of an Accidental Phone Sex Vixen. You can see more of her work at clippingsme slash jpowers and we'll have a link to that in our show notes.

0:01:20 - Speaker 3

So the story we bring you today was originally published in The Cut in New York magazines The Cut. I am so excited for our listeners to hear this story. It's a great example of a promise fulfilled. Does that make sense?

0:01:39 - Speaker 2

Yeah, she made a promise and fulfilled her promise.

0:01:42 - Speaker 3

Yeah, I think you'll understand it when you hear it. And it's also a great example of showing us the trajectory of a narrator. And it's a great example of a narrator knowing herself, a reliable knowing narrator.

0:02:01 - Speaker 2

Yeah, She uses all sorts of good stuff and especially how to turn a situation into a story. So back with Jenny Powers after the break. For anyone interested in improving your writing first draft, Weekly's Writers Group is for you. It's Tuesdays 12 to 1 Eastern Time and Thursday nights 8 to 9 Eastern Time. I teach the one on Tuesday and Eduardo Wink teaches the one. Actually, I wouldn't say teach Facilitates that group on Thursday night, because it is a group, It's a community. We come together to write for 30 minutes, share what we wrote, get feedback and leave inspired. First session is always free.

Otherwise $35 a month. That gives you eight full sessions a month. If you are interested in joining first draft, jump on Patreon slash Writing Class Radio.

0:02:54 - Speaker 3

A famous writer called Allison Langer once said you'll never know how great your writing is unless you share it at first draft.

0:03:02 - Speaker 2

I love when you quote me. Hey, this is Allison, host of Writing Class Radio. I know there are many of you out there who don't have access to a writing group or someone to look over your essay or manuscript. If that's the case, I can help. I'm available to help you whip your essay into shape. I'll read through your draft, offer suggestions, line edits and I'll spend time with you brainstorming for the best possible ending. But be prepared to answer the question what is this story about? Because if you don't know, nobody knows. You know. Sometimes it takes more than a bath or a long walk to figure this out. It takes a brutal editor who will tell you what works, what needs more explaining and what needs to go. For more information, visit writingclassradio.com. Then email Allison at writingclassradiocom. Use the code WCR and your first 15 minutes is free.

0:04:04 - Speaker 3

We're back. This is Andrea Askowitz and you're listening to Writing Class Radio. Up next is Jenny Powers reading her story Outsourcing My Orgasm.

0:04:19 - Speaker 4

It seemed cruel to be released directly back onto the city streets at rush hour and in Midtown Manhattan after what had just happened. I'd imagined lounging in a cozy waiting room while I sip tea and relished in the afterglow. Instead, I dressed in a hurry, exchanged an awkward hug and stood in a daze as the apartment door closed in my face. I just experienced one of the most mind-blowing, toe-curling orgasms of my life on the train home to Brooklyn. I tried to recount the day's events, but everything was a bit hazy. I'd put myself in someone else's hands. Literally I'd given a stranger, a woman, $270 for neurotic massage in a last-ditch attempt to find pleasure in my body, the same body that had given me so much displeasure in recent years. As I stood wedged between strangers on the subway, I smiled. When I walked in the door, my husband looked up from his computer with a perfunctory hey, how was your day? My usual response was fine, but today I was on a different plane.

We'd been together for 14 years and for the first five of those we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Our morning sex resulted in frequently showing up late for work, and our evenings and weekends were mostly spent between the sheets. My lingerie collection took up two dresser drawers. Our relationship began aboard the flight deck of the Intrepid Sea Air and Space Museum on a sweltering July evening, at what had been touted as New York's largest singles event of the summer. Neither of us was there to meet the one. I worked for the company producing the event and he worked for one of the beverage sponsors. One of his team members introduced me as the woman who saved their asses. Then the overzealous photographer asked us to move a little closer for a photo. My now husband casually tossed his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in. It felt like we'd been together forever. We shared a cab home and exchanged numbers. Within two months of dating we were practically living together.

Now, nearly a decade and a half later, some things changed, my body. The trifecta of childbirth nearing the half-century mark and a metabolism rate that has slowed to a crawl has caused me to gain weight. Up until that point I was a size two, despite never exercising, and a diet of vending machine cuisine. First my clothes started to feel a bit snug. Then I began to struggle with zippers and buttons. I tried cleanses and meal plans, counting points and intermittent fasting. I hired personal trainers, nutritionists and Park Avenue weight loss specialists. At the end of the day nothing worked, because the cold hard truth was I didn't do the work. I was in an ugly state of limbo between what I wanted and what I was willing to do to actually get there. It all made my sex drive weaker than a dial-up modem.

My husband, on the other hand, maintained the sex drive of a frat boy. He'd routinely press up against me after turning off our bedroom lights and I'd say I had a headache or cramps or some other excuse. One fed-up sigh later he'd turn over, giving me his back. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy sex with him. When we actually had it it was great. But somewhere along the line I'd let the thoughts in my head take over, and it's hard to have an orgasm when you're too busy wondering if you're positioned in the least fat way possible. Even when masturbating I couldn't control the strength of my self-degrading thoughts, so I gave up on that too. Some girlfriends swore by libido-boosting prescription meds. Another raved about the results from a vaginal injection known as the O-Shot. One friend joked if I were a man I could engage the services of an escort or at the very least find a massage parlor with someone willing to give me a happy ending. It's not that much of a stretch when we think about it.

I had already outsourced everything else a task-gravit to install the allegedly DIY peel-and-stick wallpaper, a glam squad to give me a smoky, but not too smoky eye for the annual private school gala, a door-dash or to turn a food craving into dinner. I googled erotic massage and happy ending massage for women and found a New York magazine story about a guy, Dr M, who gives women erotic massages from his apartment. The only hitch potential clients were required to submit a photo in advance. Maybe it's a safety thing, maybe it's a vanity thing. Either way, considering that my self-image was already in the toilet, I ruled him out. That and something about outsourcing this to a guy felt like crossing a line into infidelity.

I came across listings for tantric therapists offering sensual massages for women and couples. Their websites all looked the same a smattering of stock photo images showcasing flickering candles and statues draped in spiritual beads. The therapists were referred to as healers, priestesses and guides. As I read, I learned that yoni massage was named for the Sanskrit word for lady parts and roughly translated to sacred space or cave. Seeing that my own sacred space felt like an abandoned storage unit. I continued scrolling. Every 20-something white female featured on the site appeared to have an identical bio, so I picked the one with the earliest availability and completed the new client intake form, which required my LinkedIn profile and a photo of my driver's license or passport to verify it was really me. Within an hour, I received an email from a woman named Shanti confirming my appointment for the next day and clarifying that the donation for the hour-long massage would be $270 in cash. Her only instructions for the next day were to go to 59th Street and 8th Avenue and text her once I arrived, for the exact building and apartment number.

I was afraid this might be a scam, but I went about the rest of my day, which now included getting a Brazilian wax. I intended to tell my husband about my plans, but everything happened so fast and now I wasn't quite sure how to broach the subject. Then, as I stepped out of the shower that night, my husband barged into the bathroom and spotted my newly waxed and barely there landing strip and raised an eyebrow. The jig was up As I toweled off and he stood flossing. I confessed. I told him I'd been making up excuses to avoid sex because of my weight and that this session was something I needed to do for myself. I also promised to text him my whereabouts the next day. He tried to mask his surprise that I'd gone to these lengths, but he didn't try to change my mind. Having been married to me for more than a decade, he knew better.

The next morning, I put on the nicest pair of underwear I owned and headed to meet Shanti. As instructed, I arrived at the designated corner and texted her. She responded. Less than a minute later I texted my husband the exact location and once he replied with a thumbs up, I took a deep breath and pressed the buzzer outside a nondescript three-story walk-up. The apartment was on the ground floor and the door was ajar.

Shanti, a brunette with the body of a ballerina, peeked out and greeted me in a hushed tone. She was barefoot and wearing a paper-thin sundress, waving me inside a dimly-lit room that smelled of sage, with Enya playing softly. She invited me to sit down alongside her on a nearby worn-love seat. She wasted no time looking directly into my eyes and asking, “What brings you here today, Jenny?” My eyes welled up with tears. Well, I've gained a lot of weight and I no longer feel comfortable having sex because I'm self-conscious, but I still want to. Um, I fiddled with my wedding band. Feel good? I nodded. Well, you're in the right place, she said and took my hand, explaining that the purpose of the yoni massage was to help people feel more comfortable by exploring their relationship with their bodies and releasing any tension. She led me to a brightly lit bathroom filled with a variety of bath products, turned on the shower, instructed me to rinse off and left.

It wasn't until I stepped out that I realized there were no towels, leaving me no choice but to call out to her. When the door opened, shanti was holding open an oversized white towel In an effort to hide my body. I beelined into her arms. She took my hand and guided me into a small room with a massage table, incense burned on a shelf next to an empty ceramic tray, which she informed me was for my donation. When she excused herself, I placed the cash onto the tray and slid onto the table, covering my body with the towel.

She returned with a smile and removed the towel, motioning for me to sit up. Then she climbed onto the table so we were facing each other. She took my hand and guided it to my heart and told me to take several deep breaths. We sat staring into each other's eyes, breathing in sync. When she stood up, she lifted a cantor from the floor and I watched as she slowly poured its oil into her palm and rubbed her hands together, gesturing for me to lie down. I closed my eyes. She started kneading my shoulders, working her way down the front of my body. I emitted a tiny gasp.

I was torn between wanting to remain present and watch her every move and the natural impulse to close my eyes. Her fingers moved down past my belly and she gently spread my legs apart, stroking my inner thigh and making her way up to my pubic area. Maybe it was her delicate manner, or perhaps it was because I'd never been touched by a woman, but every scintilla of my body felt alive, as if an electric pulse was pumping through my veins. At some point I thought I heard someone moaning nearby. It was me. The sounds were coming from somewhere deep inside me.

When I climaxed, my entire body shuttered and though my eyes were shut, I swore I saw a vibrant display of colors beneath my lids. It was the most powerful and freeing feeling in the world. I uttered. I want to stay here forever. Before catching myself and nearly dying of embarrassment. She grinned and continued caressing me as my body trembled. Soon, I came again. Every part of me was tingling and it was beautiful. At that moment I loved every inch of myself. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I was grateful for the body I inhabited because it allowed me to feel such pleasure.

When I walked through our apartment door later that evening, I was still tingling from the aftershock. Fine, no longer seemed like an acceptable response to my husband's inquiry, when it had in fact seemed monumental. Don't you remember what today was? I responded, unable to contain my joy. For a moment, he panicked, as if he'd missed school pickup or an anniversary. Hello, it's not every day your wife gets an erotic massage. Do I look any different? I headed to the bathroom to inspect my face. I smiled at myself and gently touched my face and neck and mouth. The word wow. It wasn't just about the orgasm. It was about my body cooperating and allowing me to once again feel unadulterated pleasure in a way I thought might have been gone forever. For once, my mind and my body were on the same page.

That night in bed. I did not pretend I was asleep, I was more awake than ever. For the first time in years, I was the one to initiate sex. There are times in our lives that we are bound to feel like a car stuck in the mud waiting for assistance. Shanti arrived on the scene when I needed her most and gave me the push I needed to get me out of my rut. Better than the orgasm itself was this giant sense of relief in knowing I was still very capable of embracing intimacy.

It's been nearly four years since my appointment with Shanti And I still battle with my weight, but what I've gained is the notion that I am still worthy of enjoying pleasure in the body I have. Now I focus how my clothes fit instead of what size is marked on the label. I no longer rely on a revolving door of neutral tones to camouflage my shape, leaning instead toward cheery colors, funky patterns, even sequins. I've invested in a vibrator strong enough to drown out any negative noise in the back of my head, and I've stopped taking efforts to cover up my body in my husband's presence. And, to his surprise, I don't always insist the lights be turned off during sex.

0:16:41 - Speaker 3

Are we on? Oh my god, I am in love with this story. I feel like she did this thing that's so hard to do, which is like, oh my God, I'm gonna tell you this. Like she made like a huge promise at the beginning, as if she were saying like I'm gonna tell you this crazy, crazy thing that happened to me. You know Like just the name of her story I outsource my orgasm is such a like huge promise, but then for me she delivered.

0:17:13 - Speaker 2

There was a lot of things I really liked. I will say, though, that the whole time she was with Shanti, I was like is she enjoying this so much? because it's sort of like taboo? It's with a woman instead, or it's somebody different. And then I was worried, like she was gonna wanna, like it was gonna, break up her marriage, and so there was tension for me, like, oh God, yeah, totally 100%, because I was like, oh my gosh, just you know anyway. So then, but when she gets home and she tells us at the end and this is what stories often are missing, and in this story it's not missing at all Is that it's not just this cool, funky, unique situation, or maybe not so unique, I don't know, but she tells us I've never heard it before with a woman, So I think it's pretty unique.

0:17:59 - Speaker 3

but yeah, go ahead.

0:18:01 - Speaker 2

Yeah, yeah, it wasn't just about the orgasm, it was about. and then she tells us you know, enjoying, learning to enjoy pleasure, getting in touch with her mind and body, like all that stuff that she said. And then she goes into there are times in our lives blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. And then Shanti pushed her out of the rut and gave her relief that she was now capable in embracing intimacy. So we trust her now because we've seen this whole thing, that she's now an expert in this. So that's what the higher register situation is.

We talk about that a lot, but wait, explain it, explain it, let's explain it here. Well, now she's the expert. What does that mean? So we talk about higher register a lot And sometimes, if it's done in the beginning, before we sort of hear the story and hear what the narrator has gone through, it feels preachy. But when we hear it later we're like, oh, this lady knows she can tell us about orgasm, she can tell us about outsourcing them or husband, or the marriage or her body or her weight, because she's going through it and she's already shared all that very vulnerable information with us.

0:19:04 - Speaker 3

So we trust her as the expert and in this case this narrator spoke directly to us and even spoke sort of in the third person. She said there are times in our lives that we are bound to feel like a car stuck in the mud waiting for assistance. So she's like talking to the general everybody with this authority, and that's what the higher register is is talking directly to the reader with authority. And I trusted her because she'd already yeah, because she'd been through this whole thing and Shanti arrived on the scene when she needed her most.

0:19:36 - Speaker 2

And then she also tells us she sort of closes up the arcs of like she's still battling her way But she is able to enjoy pleasure. She sort of views her body in a different way that's able to enjoy this pressure instead of the size that the clothing says which I Think that is important to know that she hasn't miraculously Changed because of it, but that she's still working towards it. But that also we get a little glimpse that she's not, you know, turning off all the lights at night and she stopped covering up her body so much when she's with her husband. She's proud of it and that's beautiful.

0:20:13 - Speaker 3

Yeah, because the outsourcing actually changed her in a profound way. I thought I don't know. I just I'm so in love with with this story. I mean basically like her trajectory. Well, one of the things that I love so much is that she knows herself really well. So she's, she goes there and when Shanti is asking her, like why are you here? She She's like she knows that she's gained weight, she knows that she doesn't feel good about herself anymore and Shanti says you want I think I think it was Shanti who said you want to feel pleasure or something. I don't remember exactly how she said it.

0:20:53 - Speaker 2

She asked her why are you here? And she she's babbles like and she's like I want, and she's like to feel pleasure. Shanti helps her out.

0:20:59 - Speaker 3

Yeah, right. So Shanti just like turned her around. What about the line where she said it's been a decade and a half and something's changed my body? That's where I really felt like this narrator was a knowing narrator. And then she gives us evidence about how it's changed. She also gave us backstory right before that about how sexual she and her husband were. She had two drawers filled with lingerie, yeah, and they and they were Always late to stuff like so so good. Oh, i want to ask you a question about the very, very, very beginning. So we know it's called outsource. I outsource my orgasm. And then the first line is It seemed cruel to be released directly back onto the city streets at rush hour and in midtown Manhattan After what it just happened. So it's kind of like um, it's vague, it's so interesting. I mean, i was into it, i was drawn in. But usually we talk about like why, why be so mysterious? I got it a hundred percent.

0:22:08 - Speaker 2

Oh, you did. She's in like this euphoric stage and she's out there and everybody's doing their thing and she's just experienced like Yeah, but it takes it okay.

0:22:20 - Speaker 3

So then there's one, two full sentences before she says I just experienced one of the most mind-blowing toe-curling orgasms of my life. Takes a little bit of time to get to it.

0:22:33 - Speaker 2

But I feel like she told us when she was going through it, one and the next, and she was like really enjoying it. So she, she showed us and then she told us that's why it didn't bother me.

0:22:43 - Speaker 3

No, but that's at the very, very beginning. I'm just saying it took it. She leads, she starts the story with us Oh, this is before she shows us that.

That's like the fourth, fifth sentence in. Yeah, she just started the story in a way that was a little bit mysterious, and we sometimes say why start a story with the mystery when You know you're not writing a mystery? but she did. But she captured me. Yeah, me too. But I think it was because of the promise That we talked about earlier. At the promise of this, is it gonna be about an outsourcing my orgasm? So I was like, okay, you have my attention When she positions herself in the least fat way possible. Oh, heartbreaking. She made a really good case for outsourcing even this, like the task rabbit, like all the other things that she outsources. It's like a why not this? I love her, she's genius. Do you know any other women who've ever done this?

0:23:43 - Speaker 2

Not anyone who's told me this. But when they were talking about Yoni massages, it reminded me of a story you wrote about going to a Yoni massage place with your wife.

0:23:53 - Speaker 3

Yes, but I was the one who was doing the Yoni massage on my wife, so it wasn't like everyone who wants to do the Yoni massage. Yoni, it's the lady parts. As she said it, her Yoni was an abandoned storage unit. I loved it.

0:24:10 - Speaker 2

Cave, I hear her, I'm with her, I hear you, Jenny Powers.

0:24:16 - Speaker 3

Here was another thing that I thought was great. I was like, what about the husband? What does the husband think? Like I'm thinking, and then, right as I'm really starting to worry, the husband catches her. So funny. I mean, seriously, I love this husband. He sees the landing strip, like wait, what? And then she tells him. And there, when she's telling him, it's like I need this for myself. I thought that was also so beautiful and so knowing. Wait. One other thing I just want to. I'm sorry I know I've been talking too much, but one other thing When she says this was the most powerful and freeing feeling in the world, that language is so simple and so perfect. Like I feel like sometimes we try too hard to explain something And that basically, she just said it was the most powerful and freeing feeling in the world, I loved every inch of myself. I mean, she's not, she's just direct and clear and simple, excellent. Like I thought the stakes were yeah, huge stakes, total change, excellent. Thank you, jenny Powers, for sharing this story And thank you for listening.

0:25:30 - Speaker 1

She likes the beat. I eat ice. I don't get jaded. I work too hard. I want to be famous. I never let my guard down. I think what had happened was I thought it bring us happiness.

0:25:54 - Speaker 3

Writing class radio is hosted by me, Andrea Asquitz.

0:25:57 - Speaker 2

And me.

0:25:58 - Speaker 3

Allison Langer. Audio production by Matt Kandel, Evan Serminsky, Chloe Imont Lane and Aiden Glassy at the Soundoff Media Company. Theme music is by Marneen O'Tusson. There's more writing class on our website, writingclassradiocom, including stories we study, editing resources, video classes, writing retreats and live online classes. Join our writing community by following us on Patreon. If you want to write with us every week, you can join our first draft weekly writers groups. You have the option to join Allison, Tuesdays 12 to 1 Eastern, And we have a new Thursday night writing group, Thursdays 8 to 9 Eastern, with Eduardo Wink. You'll write to a prompt and share what you wrote. If you're a business owner, entrepreneur, community activist group that needs healing and want to help your team write better, we can help. Check out all our classes on writingclassradiocom. Join the community that comes together for instruction and, most importantly, the support from other writers. A new episode will drop every other Wednesday.

0:27:11 - Speaker 2

There's no better way to understand ourselves and each other than by writing and sharing our stories. Everyone has a story. What's yours?

0:27:20 - Speaker 1

I'm running like I was a ghetto bird. I don't want to lead a ghetto bird, but so that I need you.

0:27:30 - Speaker 2

Produced and distributed by the Sound Off Media Company.

0:27:34 - Speaker 5

Hey, it's Joel Impson, host of that nerd dad podcast. Look, finding time for yourself is an important part of parenting. It allows us to be the best version of ourselves for our kids, so tune in every week to talk about parenting, pop culture and politics. Whether you're an exhausted parent looking for a laugh or a stone teenager who clicked on this by mistake, this is the podcast for you. You can find me on Spotify, apple, google, the Dean Blundell Network or at thatnerddadca.