FINDING GRAFFENBERG

You know I internet-trawl a lot? Yes, you know. Inevitably, one is bound to make discoveries one wouldn’t normally make sitting on his arse and staring into space, or lying on his tummy/back and still staring into space. On this day, I found Graffenberg, or let me say he found me.

Ernst Graffenberg is one of those many unlucky German Jews who got rounded up in a bid to create the “blue-eyed blond-haired” super race – the Aryan race (wasn’t Hitler dark-haired and unattractive when he wasn’t raving?). Herr Graffenberg was also among the many stupid ones who thought their high placing in the German society would exempt them from the Nazi purge and didn’t bother taking to their heels when

presented the chance. Fortunately, he was one of the lucky few who were allowed to be ransomed from the nasty Nazi prisons and ended up in the US, New York City to be precise. Ernst Graffenberg was also a medical doctor – a gynaecologist.

You’ve heard of that thing called a G-spot? Yes, it was named after Herr Doktor for his role in pointing out the role of the urethra in female organism. I believe his name is unrelated to the now mostly extinct G-string. Back on topic, the G-spot is an erogenous zone, a part of the body that, if the right amount of pressure is applied, all sorts of wonderful sensations can be felt. Apparently, the G-spot is the most profoundly powerful of all these zones because it can result in the “Big O” in no time.

The question now is; how did Mr Graffenberg come about his findings? I recently thought about the fact that my wife (in the future of course) would get pregnant and might have some male, who because he has a fancy two-letter title called Dr, would be doing all sorts of nasty stuff to my wife’s genitals and beyond – peeking, stroking, touching, feeling. Damn! Herr Graffenberg must have used his position of “power” to know that there lies a certain spot, two inches into the vagina (on the frontal wall), that can cause explosions worse than Saddam’s Scud missiles and more pleasurable than a tank of warm chocolate. I read all that, just in case you think I’ve been studying the female anatomy physically, although you can’t be quite sure. I shudder to think of many a wife that would have come back to Herr Graffenberg’s office for a quick fix, the concept of orgasms being quite alien to men of those days. I still understand if it is the clitoris because that isn’t exactly out of sight, but something as well-hidden as the so-called G-spot; how does a man know about it when not many females know where it is themselves? You would see that I use certain terms freely. Yes, I use them because, believe it or not, they are part of the body. If I can say you have a head, or a stomach, or an anus (yuck), you must as well have a vagina or a penis, I lie?

It is still somewhat disputed if such a spot as the G-spot exists, principally because it is so hard to find, but I can’t but help  to think that Herr Graffenberg may have set me a new challenge. But how won’t it be hard to find for the male folk who are still coming to grasps with unclasping the exotically named brassiere? Adventurous men and women, over to you.

P.S: Being a sexologist must be the most exciting and “rewarding” job in the entire world.