Attack of the Killer Female Orgasms

An Orgasm Almost Killed Her (We Are Not Kidding)

                                                       Headline, Cosmopolitan.

He had just climaxed after more than a little foreplay and the usual huffing and puffing.  He flopped over on his back, exhausted and ready for sleep.

“Ahem,” the woman next to him ahemmed, as if clearing her throat, although he knew she wasn’t.

“Sounds like you’re getting a cold.  Most doctors recommend plenty of rest and lots of fluids,” he said as he rolled over.

“I’m trying to let you know that you may be done, but I’m not.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, and gave her the most sympathetic Alan Alda-type puppy dog look he could muster.

Alda:  “This is my ‘sympathetic’ look.”


“You know, I’d love to, but I’m tired, and I don’t want to put your life in danger.”

“What?” she asked, wide-eyed and wide awake now.

“There are serious health risks involved in the female orgasm.  You could die from one.”

She gave him a look that spoke volumes, like an installment-plan encyclopedia.  “You just want to go to sleep,” she said.  “Where did you come up with that baloney?”

Cosmopolitan—the fun, fabulous lifestyle magazine.  It’s the best-selling young woman’s rag in the world, you know.”

“I didn’t know that Cosmo published medical research,” she said, one eyebrow arching upwards.

“Oh, absolutely.  Just like The New England Journal of Medicine, or Lancet.”

“So this stuff is legitimate?  Peer-reviewed, control groups, double-blind tests?”

“Uh, I don’t know about that.  It was on the page opposite ‘Icebreakers:  Conversation Starters That Will Make You the Most Interesting Person in the Room!’”

“So the usual rigorous Cosmo scientific method?”

“That’s right.  I mean, they have a ‘Cosmo Community’ feature on the web site.  I bet they got a lot of hits, with women weighing in about near-death experiences.  On the come, so to speak.”

“Well, it’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

“Gentleman, schmentleman.  If I, uh, accommodate you, I could be guilty of manslaughter.  Or womanslaughter.”

“I think you’re just lazy.”

“Please.  Would I make you go skydiving right now, or ride a motorcycle without a helmet?”

“I hope not.  I’m not really dressed for outdoor sports.”

“Well, I hate to sound like a TV ad for a new drug, but you should consult your doctor before insisting upon reaching climax.  Also, closed course, professional driver.”

“Well, it all strikes me as a trifle ungracious.”

“My mother told me never to trifle with a woman.”

“Did she say anything about leaving one hanging?”

“No.  Say, did you ever see that Ike & Tina Turner routine where they sing the song ‘I’ve Been Loving You Too Long’ and when it’s over, Ike says ‘Well, I got mine, I hope you got yours.’”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“It’s a real show stopper, lots of heavy breathing . . .”

“Well, this show has stopped.  How about an encore?”

“I don’t know.  I’d hate to be responsible.  How would I explain it to your relatives at the funeral?”

“Easy.  ‘She died doing the thing she loved.’”


Available in Kindle format on as part of the collection “The Difference Between Men and Women.”

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