I’ve been to my fair share of yoga classes. Vinyasa, power, hatha, Bikram, Buti, Kundalini… the list goes on. But when Dame Products, a sex toy company, invited me to take an “orgasmic yoga class”—wisely dubbed OYoga—I was intrigued. I certainly hadn’t experienced that style of om.
The class would be led by Tatiana Dellepiane, a women’s sexuality coach, certified yoga instructor, and Tantra teacher, and it would be a mash-up of yoga, belly dancing, and burlesque. The description said I would activate my Shakti—which is apparently my “sex magnet” energy—hone my “arousal breath,” and strengthen my muscles so I could have deeper orgasms and make strenuous sex moves feel easier.
I wasn’t sure about my Shakti energy or arousal breath—is it more special than, well, heavy panting? But since I was promised the ability of a deeper orgasm, I figured it was worth a “yes.” (Which, BTW, is something I had to yell out loud… just as you’re imagining it… in front of strangers. But we’ll get to that.)
As soon as I met Tatiana, I understood why she’s in this line of work. She was crazy confident, outgoing, yet still approachable, and she gave off very comfortable—dare I say even sensual—vibes. You could tell right away that she’s a woman who isn’t afraid to be who she is, and after laying eyes on her long, flowing hair, she made me immediately regret not only tying mine up (rookie mistake) but also chopping my locks just a few weeks ago.
After introducing myself, I moved to my mat in the quiet, dimly lit room. Maybe I was overthinking things, but I swear there was a buzz of energy circulating around everyone. It was like each person had given themselves permission to really embrace this class, and that openness created a sense of excitement instead of the awkwardness I expected. I’m not one of the lucky few ladies who are able to orgasm from exercise (dubbed a “coregasm,” as researchers found it originates from the core), but I’d be damned if this class didn’t make me kind of want to try.
First, Tatiana explained that there are five secrets to having a successful OYoga experience. Each is incorporated into every section of class, and the goal is to use them as your base before segueing into bigger movements. They are, in no particular order:
Place two fingers on your throat, inhale and exhale deeply through your nose. Constrict the back of your throat, creating an ocean-like whispering sound. (Honestly, this isn’t all that different from the typical ujjayi breathing you’re taught in hatha yoga. But the finger placement did help, and obvi the name is sexier than ujjayi, which sounds like a piece of sushi.)
Place two fingers on your pubic bone and squeeze your pelvic floor. (Translation: Do a damn Kegel. She doesn’t like calling them Kegels but, yeah, that’s what they are.)
On your inhale, push your hips forward a small amount. On the exhale, release and bring the hips back to start. (Basically, a tiny hip thrust.)
Small Hip Circles
On your inhale, circle your hips forward. On the exhale, release and circle them back. (Keep it tight. The big swings come later.)
Move your hands over your arms and legs—even through your hair—with a feather-light touch. (So, caress yourself.)
With these, er, tools in my back pocket, Tatiana said we were ready to flow through four sequences—what she called: Standing Goddess, Kneeling Goddess, Doggie Goddess, and Missionary Goddess. Before I get into all that, can I just say: If Anastasia Steele were real, she would be flipping her lid at these names. She would also definitely be the one to orgasm in class (and I’d still hate her as much as I do now).
The first sequence, Standing Goddess, didn’t really do much for me. It was a lot of tilting my hips forward, squeezing my butt, and releasing. Then we did the tiny hip circles in both directions, before eventually adding in those caresses. I wish I was the kind of woman that jumped into this without any hesitation—some of the ladies in class totally did, for which I applaud them—but to me, it felt awkward and forced. So I stuck to my little circles and thrusts, waiting to move into the next sequence.
Kneeling Goddess was a bit better—I gently moved my hands up and down my arms and, yeah, it felt nice. But there was no running my fingers through my hair (though I did take it down). Instead, I was focused on trying to match my bliss breath to my secret squeezes, like Tatiana had instructed, and having serious struggles doing so. Eventually, I realized that level of concentration meant there wasn’t a shot in hell that I was going to get turned on. So in the name of fair reporting, I just decided to do what I could with my squeezes, and let the bliss breaths fall where they may.
This is also where the “yes!” yelling came into play. Tatiana had us sitting on our feet, knees spread open on the ground, arms above our heads. (A good start, as I’m sure you can imagine.) Then, we’d thrust our hips up and forward, simultaneously pulling our arms down to our sides and emphatically yelling, “yes!” Everyone was shy and quiet the first few times (myself included), but much like other group activities, as soon as one person got involved, the rest of the class followed. And I have to admit, the exercise helped me chill the eff out and really let go of my inhibitions before we segued into the next sequence, Doggie.
I’m sure you can imagine what the Doggie Goddess sequence entailed. Before it even started, I wasn’t excited. It isn’t a sex position I love most of the time, but once we started doing the tiny hip circles, the magic kicked in. And by magic, I mean clitoral stimulation. Maybe it was because I was wearing tight-to-the-body compression leggings, but once the micro-movements began, I could feel subtle stimulation happen and—boom!—all of a sudden this class was interesting.
I started swinging my hips in bigger circles, caressing my arms and legs and, yep, visualizing the sex I was going to have with my husband later. The songs Tatiana chose—which of course included the 50 Shades theme song—kept the sexual energy high. By the time we moved into Missionary Goddess—a lot of hip bridges, leg openers, and Happy Baby (renamed Happy Husband) pose—I was ready to skip the Savasana, roll up my mat, and send a not-so-subtle text to my hubs that he better be ready for action by the time I got home.
Don’t worry, I controlled myself and stayed through the end of class. And while I’m not confident OYoga delivered on all of its promises—I still don’t know what the eff Shakti is, and I doubt I’ll be incorporating bliss breath into my regular sex routine—it certainly got me in the mood. I wouldn’t say I had a deeper orgasm that night, either (it’s not like I have a gauge to measure that), but I certainly reached the finish line with gusto.