Picture this scenario. You and your girlfriend (swap genders for yourself, it really doesn't matter to the story) just started dating. From the moment you met, there'd always been this sexual tension between the two of you. You've made out, cuddled, fondled, on one drunk and frustrating night, a little 3rd base. However, say, she'd just been through a difficult break up and is feeling a little emotionally raw, or just for whatever reason, the other's not ready to introduce that aspect into the relationship yet.

Then they fly away on work, or something family-related. You miss them terribly, and the both of you are sending each other e-mails and phonecalls back and forth constantly, you know now that this is the real deal. But then, one day you experimentally say something naughty in a letter. She responds back playfully in kind with some of her own. And then it begins picks up speed, escalates, letters get dirtier and dirtier, and then it's phonesex so nasty I couldn't bring you guys back that part of the story, it's really intense, this stuff. And yeah, these guys are burning for each other, just waiting for the chance to be back in the same place again...

One day, at last you get the phonecall. "I just arrived. I'm in the airport right now. I should be done with luggage check in about 30 minutes. Come pick me up!"

Here is the moment you've been waiting for. You've wanted her for weeks, and now she's finally here, there will be no delay. Skipping the romantic dinner and night out thing, you decided to just go straight from the airport to your place. In fact, neither of you could wait, and you told the taxi driver to make the stop at the nearest 4 star hotel on the way, swipe swipe, credit card, room card, you're inside and finally alone, you experimentally tried tantric sex, you know, just to be funny, see if it was 'in theory' still possible, nah, fuck that, now the pages of the kama sutra are flying loose, you've tried 4, 5, 6... oh, many many different positions, and with your head on a pillow you're now staring up close-up into the Inca tattoo on the side of her neck,  enormous and slightly out of focus at this distance, radiating its own heat, then it all goes black, you're squeezing your eyes shut - this is going to be the BIGGEST orgasm of your life ever - you've just reached the top of the magic mountain roller-coaster ride, paused on the brink so you can look down and see the depths, they took a picture of you at that moment (i.e. just before, your mind's going, "oh yes, dear god, this is going to be big!"). And you're starting to go over, you begin the almighty descent...

Ok, we've hopefully established this is the biggest orgasm of your life.

Now assuming, some bored god showed up, clipped off that moment and said, "Ay! You there. You see that orgasm? I'll buy it from you for 14 million dollars."

and you say, "Huh? Wait... How on earth did you do that?! Where are we?"

he replies, "You never mind that. Back to why I'm here -  I want to buy off that orgasm off of you. 14 million quid."

"Hey, go off and fuck yourself, buddy!" you yell. "I was moments away for one of the best moments in my life! Now you've done fucked it all up!!!"

Dude says, "Hey, relax, don't worry. If you say no, you wouldn't know the difference. Everything will be as it was, alright? I wouldn't pay for damaged goods. $14 million. Like I said. Instant payment. Your bank balance will grow by $14 million by the morning, no one will ask any questions."

Hmm. You think it over. "$14 million..." You take a look back at your squeezed-shut eyes and your open mouth on the edge of an obscenity.  "And the best orgasm of your life..."

Which would you choose?

This is a hypothetical thought experiment me and my roommate were arguing about. It started when I quoted some dude who said "Sex. There are some things better than it, and some things worse than it. But there's nothing quite like." (Can anyone msg me with who said that?)

Anyway, he was agog. What could possibly be better than sex?!

Interesting question. Well, if you believe that guy in Trainspotting, a hit of heroin is 1000x more powerful than the best orgasm you've ever felt. But I've never had heroin, so...

But I have been in the center of a moment of musical ecstasy. And sorry, it's better. I kid you not. How, you ask?

Well, several reasons, but I guess it's a matter of taste, perhaps. In my weird, subjective way, I'm going to try and describe the difference between an orgasm, and an eargasm. An orgasm's the pinnacle of the sexual act/thoughts. It's like you take the pleasant sensation of the erotic feeling, and you ramp it up to it's maximum and smash it through the skylight. Well, being in the middle of a magic moment when playing music's the same way, but it's this time any emotion you like. You could be in the middle of something happy, and then inspiration takes hold of you, you follow it, and you take yourself into the center of the source of all human happiness. And for a few seconds, as long as you keep the notes flowing, you'll be there, in that place. The same applies to anger, sadness, disorientation, triumph, others English couldn't name. Sex too! Scriabin was famously concerned with expressing erotic thoughts and sensations in music. And yes, not while playing it myself, I've had a Scriabin eargasm. It's not bad! By Jove, he definitely gets the right idea! I'd rather be having sex though.

But it depends. If the bargain was, all thing being equal, continue this orgasm, or I can place you in yourself, sitting behind the piano at the LA Disney Concert Hall playing with the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, right at the edge of the cadence of Ravel's Piano Concerto in G major... *winces...* I'm such a nerd, but god save my soul, I think I'll take my chances with Karajan. Hey, no one said who was conducting, and whether they still had to be alive...

I didn't get to go through such an elaborate argument, but I sort of got the idea through. My roommate sniffed. "I wouldn't know anything about that," he tuts. He's not the artsy type. "Well, what else is there then?" he asks.

How about $14 million?

And now we're back full circle.

I said, yeah, I'd take it. And he thought a bit and said, no, some times, you'd just want to say, "ah, fuck it. let me finish." and I'd said, huh. And he said, maybe you've never had the passionate sex I've had before, and then the conversation turned really quite childish...

All I'm saying is that being the intellectual I am, I don't think it's possible to flag any experience as the greatest thing evar, un-tradable under any circumstance. Mostly on bigger principles, beyond the scope of this w/u. But how about this argument. If Bored God was to pay you in gradations. $100,000 for taking the intensity down a shade. What then, would you take the $100G? If the answer is yes, then my point is proven. You don't have a perfectly inelastic demand curve. So some sort of indifference curve can be set, as long as you have an infinite supply of money. There's some sort of price you can pin on it.

It's been a while since I've done economics, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong about the theory. But I'm sure it a good starting point that contributes something to the discussion.

Now just to get something out the water before we begin. I'm trying to break into the legal profession in England. This is not an easy thing to do. And regardless of what sort of lawyer you want to become, be it a sharp-suited City spiv who spends 17 hours a day helping other sharp-suited City spivs fight over the scraps of Iceland, Belarus, Qatar, or other countries that are being crunched by credit, or crusading for the rights of BDSM enthusiasts to only be cuffed and beaten by other BDSM enthusiasts and not by overzealous ticky-box mentality plodlings, one thing that just about everyone insists on in their recruits is this crazy little thing called "commercial awareness." And questions like this are apparently one way in which interviewers try to detect yours. In some firms at least. It's a bit like the infamous Oxford University interview in which the don asks you what you would be thinking if you were a crisp, or whatever.

Now, in this instance, your consideration is, for all intents and purposes, not having the best orgasm of your life, in return for $14,000,000.00. Now, would you do it? Well, there's more than just the intensity of orgasm to take into account here. There's also how much sex you expect to engage in for the rest of your life, the market price of things like the G-shot (if you're a woman), what handles your candle so to speak, and similar wider factors. But the thing is, you don't know whether God is being entirely truthful when He is saying that you will never sling your muck more explosively or brilliantly. Granted, He is omnipotent and omniscient, but who's to say He can't be fibbing? Well then.

So here's what I'd do - negotiate. See if I could get the orgasm in some sort of credit arrangement. I'd say that God should give me $14 million now, and I get to have the orgasm right now. However, I have to pay the money back to Him within 90 days unless I can have an equally mind-bending orgasm in that time, at which point God steps in and takes it off me, leaving me embarrassed and with the jester's shoes. If I fail to do either, he can foreclose on my penis and leave me irreparably impotent. Now why would I do this? Because I stand to gain from it regardless. Supposing He agreed to this and gave me the money on condition that I gave Him an ace orgasm. (Nile's song "Masturbating the War God" just took on a whole new meaning, but that's beside the point.) I then finish up, and the next morning I put all the money into a portfolio of fairly secure investments (or ring up a hedge fund and ask them to short someone's stock with my money, but that would give a whole new meaning to the phrase "putting your balls on the line" given the circumstances.) Even though it's only a 90 day credit term, the magnitude of the capital involved means that even if I only recoup less than one percent of the principal value after tax, that'll still be a nice meaty hundred grand or so I get paid in dividends, interest, and so forth. And that'll pay for many, many, romantic candlelit dinners, dirty weekends in Paris, flowers, and thus opportunities for me and my lady friend to knock some boots. If I do manage to engage in some equally rough, tough, and filthy sex in the interim, which results in an orgasm of equal or greater intensity, then that'll be a bonus - and since I never had the Brilliant Orgasm v1.2, then I would still have had the greatest orgasm of my life and be $14 million and spare change better off.

The only real weakness with this scheme that I can see is if my lady friend acrimoniously breaks up with me. Because then she might strip all the money out my portfolio and bugger off to Brazil with it. Then I'm left not only high and dry, but also broke as well.

Worse still, God might try to sue you, relying on the rule that a contract attempting to procure an immoral purpose is invalid. Though if that happened, I would argue that He wasn't procuring an immoral purpose, because orgasm in itself is not immoral so much as the ways in which one is generated. Since he didn't specify how one was generated, the purpose of the deal was not immoral.

If God refuses to accept my deal, then it's a no-brainer, I'd take the money and be left all hawk and no spit for that evening at least. After all, I'm only 23. There's at least seventy years left in me to have the perfect male orgasm at least once.

Whether you would do it, though, is still up to you.

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