An open letter to selfish men, gratefully dedicated to the guys who made sure I came first – all two of you…
My vagina feels like checked baggage on a budget flight: it gets bumped around, it’s always being crammed with stuff, and it’s damn expensive (what with all those luxury tampons I keep indulging in). If you missed all the memos that have been going around lately, it’s not that easy being a woman: my work is 20% less valuable than that of a man, but it’s the rampant inequality of sexual fulfilment I’m here to call time on. Life is hard enough without having to deal with inept male fumblings on an uninterrupted basis. I’m already being paid less; I’m at least entitled to come more.
Luckily for me, I had this realisation pretty early on (around the time this guy helicoptered his dick in my face, but wouldn’t go down because “he didn’t like shellfish”). I’m now dating a wonderful guy who – gasp – actually enjoys making me come. I don’t want to reduce sex to just orgasm here – I totally believe that it’s about the act and not the effect. I don’t expect to come every time (no-one should) – the delicious warm feeling of someone next to me, lovely naked bottoms, and little kisses are all wonderful. When that’s all we’re getting, though, we ought to question trends which privilege male over female pleasure.
Bear with me now, I’m going to hit you with some facts ’n’ stuff: Undergrad women have far fewer orgasms than guys in hetero hook-ups. Over 80% of men climax every time; 70% of women rarely orgasm with any kind of penetrative intercourse with a partner. In a poll of 24,000 students in 21 US colleges, the ratio of males to females receiving oral sex was 4:1. Going down on me isn’t some form of community service; I hate to break it to you but your cock does not taste exactly like candyfloss. I’m 100% done with my gender being short-changed in the bedroom.
For starters, the female orgasm is overtly mystified. It’s thought that the clitoris is hard to find and impossible to operate, like an old remote lost down the back of the sofa. I’d like to point out that I can make myself come, and am so lacking in dexterity that it has been said my hand-jobs feel like I’m actually trying to dislocate the dick and add it to a trophy cabinet. Despite my protestations to one guy (for whom I eventually drew a map), my clit is not all that hard to find. Sigmund Freud famously posited “what is it that women want?” He may have been a sex-crazed genius, but apparently it never occurred to him to actually ask. We are not complex creatures – the problem is not my pussy, it’s what you’re (not) doing with it. There’s also little difference in the sensation of coming for men and women – the only real divide is that women can experience the holy grail of multiple orgasm. Also, most guys seem to come as quickly as they swallow tic-tacs, while my eyes usually glaze over for a good couple of minutes and my labia leads me on a transcendental journey.
The dance with no-pants is male choreographed. Hands-up if this sounds familiar: we get naked, and fuck until you come. I don’t, and you don’t offer to make me. You roll over and fall asleep while I silently wank to the soundtrack of your mammoth snores. Your poorly timed orgasm is about as polite as holding a door for me only to slam it in my face. It’s about time we started seeing hetero sex as more than penetrative, and include clitoral stimulation as more than optional foreplay. This is especially the case in hook-ups, where the aforementioned study showed that an overwhelming majority of males questioned the female’s right to orgasm in a one-night fling or casual relationship. Guys, if this is you please understand sexual partners are humans, not fleshlights. I have better things to do than lie there as a passive receptacle for you to pump semen into.
Most of you probably aren’t bad guys or even that bad as lovers, but questions need to be asked when women in lesbian relationships come as frequently as males in heterosexual couplings. Men aren’t pulling their weight, because women are taught to expect them not to, and guys aren’t shown how to. As I’ve discussed before, porn is neither instructive nor representative. Ladies, don’t cut your losses. Manifest your destiny, demand more from your dick (or mouth/ fingers/ whatever). We have a civic duty towards the next generation of women to show guys how to get us off. You don’t have to be mean: it’s not so much about telling your partner when they’re doing stuff wrong, as letting them know when they’re doing it right. Mostly, be generous and be creative: sex is nothing more than a physical artistic collaboration.