A week later, I was back in the bedroom "office " with Valerie and Bruce. I'd let the revelations of our last session marinate in my mind, and I was feeling a little more bold. When Valerie asked what I wanted to work on this time, I said I wanted to explore what turned me on, so they offered me a sensual massage. "Sure!" I said, stripping off my shirt and bra. On the massage table, I closed my eyes and buried my face in the pillow. Someone poured lavender oil on my back and started rubbing it in gently. Then another pair of hands started massaging my legs. At one point one kissed along my shoulder while the other breathed heavily in my ear. This was one sensual couple. I could only imagine how hot their sex life was.

After the massage, I felt so relaxed that I easily could have nodded off. But there was work to be done, so Bruce and I did another exercise. In this game, Bruce played the role of the male attempting to score his goal (me). I was wary — being pursued wasn't my thing.

Bruce started out lightly rubbing my hips, and I winced every time his hand grazed my breast or ventured near my inner thighs. I focused as hard as I could on the fact that we were just "playing," but as he rubbed his hand over my vagina, I jumped away. "You know what would feel really nice?" I said, imitating Valerie's seductive voice to cover up my timidity. "If you could rub my back..."

"I'm pushing past your boundaries on purpose," said Bruce.

"Really concentrate on what your body feels," added Valerie. "What does it want? What do you really like? If your genitals could talk, what would they be saying?"

I suddenly had an image of a giant vagina sitting in Bruce's place, barking, "Yeah, what would I be saying? You never bothered to ask!" Biting my lip to control the laughter again, I concentrated on the soothing sounds of wooden flutes and whale mating calls playing in the background. If I was ever going to help myself, I had to break through my mental and emotional boundaries. And what better, weirder moment could I ask for? What the hell, right?

I grabbed Bruce's hand and guided it over my legs, my inner thighs, and under my shirt. Bruce let out a soft "mmmm" of surprise and approval. I felt turned on by my actions and excited that I had received a positive reaction from Bruce. Would it be so terrible if I let him wander under my bra? I pressed his hands closer to my breasts and encouraged him to squeeze and grope them. Before long, I'd let him kiss my nipples and my collarbone and nibble my ear. When he glided his hands over the tender region of my genitals, I joined him and kept them there. This was kind of fun. "Mmm... good, that's nice," said Valerie, her cheek rested on her hands, with the dreamy expression of someone who'd been listening to a lot of whale songs.

Would it be so terrible if I let him wander under my bra?

At the end of the session, I thanked Valerie and Bruce for their time, adding that I looked forward to taking control with someone I really wanted under my shirt. "I just need to work on finding out what my body wants," I said. "Any suggestions?"

"Well," said Valerie, now groping Bruce's thigh with a smile, "spend time touching yourself!"

Results:
That turned out to be a homework assignment I couldn't turn down. I ended up feeling so hypersexual from exploring my body that one friend described me as "a walking clitoris." Shortly thereafter, Operation Sex finally succeeded! This time, I made sure my bedmate was a) not an alcoholic and b) someone I really trusted. I couldn't have asked for a more ideal partner — someone who asked me what I wanted and whom I felt comfortable telling what felt good to me. The sex was rough and loud and good. It was also quick, but I'm not one to go on for hours.

"Sorry you didn't finish," he said when we were done. "I mean, was I okay at least?"

"Of course you were," I said. Then, thinking how I could make that clearer, I said, "If you weren't, I would have told you while we were having sex what you could do to make it better." And I meant that. I could almost hear Valerie and Bruce applauding in the background. A+ for Intimacy.

"Thank you!" he exclaimed. "See, that's how it's supposed to be."

This was called communication, a gateway to that thing called intimacy. Lo and behold, it felt good.

Conclusion:
It may have been scary, but I'm grateful for venturing into the world of Slow Sex, and hopefully starting on my way towards not actively avoiding sexual encounters. There's a lot of work to do, and a lot of sex to have. So let's get it on — mindfully, that is.

FIND MORE
I Did It For Science: Female Pick-Up Artist - What happens when a woman plays The Game?
I Did It For Science: Selling Panties on Craigslist - Can I make money hawking dirty laundry?
Q&A with Debby Herbenick, author of Because It Feels Good: A Woman’s Guide to Sexual Pleasure and Satisfaction