Winds of Uranus

Let’s get this out of the way: Narcissists do not orgasm.

Yes, they’ll arch their back, moan at a convincing volume, and even shake their limbs like a trout on the riverbank. But don’t be fooled. Behind those theatrics is the barren, echoing canyon of a vacant heart space—a spiritual void so dry it makes the Sahara look like a rainforest.

Because orgasm requires authenticity. Orgasm is a heart-to-root lightning strike of truth. And narcissists, by design, are allergic to truth. They have outsourced their essence to mimicry. So when the body tries to channel that hot, spiraling life-force energy upward, it finds the heart is closed for renovations—forever. The circuit breaks. The power reroutes. And here’s the kicker:

👉 The orgasmic energy doesn’t vanish. It transfers—like an energetic PayPal—to the authentic soul the narcissist is either mimicking or fantasizing about while fumbling in the sheets.

Case Study 1: The Mimic

Meet Brad. Brad is mid-thrust, but his moves are not his own. He’s copied them from watching an authentic lover (let’s call her Maya) who once told the truth with her hips. Brad’s body does the choreography, but the current doesn’t land. Instead, Maya—authentic, sovereign, and currently watering her monstera plant across town—suddenly feels a pleasant whoosh in her pelvis, a tingle in her sternum, and a spontaneous sigh.
Brad, meanwhile, collapses beside his partner and mutters, “That was deep.” Deeply vacant, Brad. Deeply vacant.

Case Study 2: The Pretender

Enter Cassandra. Cassandra is in bed with her boyfriend, but in her mind, she’s pretending it’s Ezra—the authentic folk singer with moss in his beard and kindness in his eyes. Cassandra moans Ezra’s name silently in her skull. Her vacant heart cannot process the surge of energy, so the orgasm reroutes, beelines through the ether, and boom—Ezra, strumming alone in his cabin, suddenly drops his guitar mid-song and gasps. He’s never felt so… loved. Cassandra rolls over, smug. Ezra rolls over his wool blanket, confused but oddly satisfied.

The Energetic Economy of Vacant Orgasms

In this way, narcissists unknowingly become the delivery drivers of sexual energy. They pick up the package, can’t open it, and must drop it at the doorstep of the authentic. They are the UberEats of unlived orgasms.

Authentics, take note: the sudden warm wave you felt while folding laundry? That wasn’t random. That was a narcissist somewhere trying and failing to climax in your direction. Bless their vacant hearts—for they will never know the real thing.

And so the universe remains balanced: truth receives energy, vacancy circulates it, and orgasms always find their rightful home.