Tag Archives: women

Yer Cheatin’ Heart

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As a woman who has looked for casual sex online, I’m no stranger to getting propositioned by married men. The excuses were all over the place, though the conversation rarely went far. I had little interest in cheaters; I’ve got a strong sense of sisterhood, and I would never want to cause another woman the emotional pain that cheating does. But that didn’t stop them from trying. I had plenty of them try to convince me it was okay. Maybe for them, but for me? Not so much.

(True confession: twice when I was in my 30s I knowingly slept with a married man, and once stepped out on a college boyfriend during a time we were mostly broken up. Like everyone, I like to think that I’m capable of growth and change, and of learned to discern right from wrong. The last couple of times I found myself in the dating pool, I wasn’t interested in sleeping with cheaters. If that makes my opinions unworthy because I’m a cheating hypocrite, so be it.)

Still, on the occasions I did talk with men about it, I heard a lot of stories that weren’t quite as black and white as we’d like to believe cheating is. Plenty of guys are stuck in what I call monogabacy: they are in monogamous relationships that have turned celibate. Several of them talked about still loving and wanting to have sex with their wives, but continually getting the cold shoulder; others talked about their deep love for their children, and how their marriages were decent other than the sex part. Men who couldn’t leave their spouses for economic reasons (both their own and their partners), or guys whose wives had health problems. Many of them felt guilty for what they were doing, but figured sleeping with a woman they met online was less onerous than hiring a sex worker.

And yes, there were plenty of men who were horndogs who just wanted to fuck a bunch of different women, and made no bones about it.

I don’t know if other women typically slam the email door in cheaters’ faces, but I suspect they do. If the huge number of men looking for extra-marital sex in every corner of the internet is any indication, many of them are looking fruitlessly. It’s no wonder they got lured in by the promise of hot, available pussy on Ashley Madison. If the statistics are correct, and anywhere between 1 in 5 and 1 in 2 men have consummated an affair, then there are a lot of married men out there who are unhappy with their sex lives. And sexually dissatisfied men in marriages are usually partnered with sexually dissatisfied women.

Men have long enjoyed non-consensual non-monogamy. For thousands of years, men have visited prostitutes, kept mistresses or married multiple women. While countless women have suffered because of this, there was little they could do: women had no choice but to stay with their husbands, because divorce wasn’t an option. (And let’s not forget that prior to the 20th century, sex often resulted in more children; perhaps it was a relief to have their husbands getting their needs met elsewhere so they didn’t find themselves pregnant again.) For women to cheat could meant death or being ostracized. I have no doubt that there were men who remained faithful to their wives, and couples who enjoyed passionate, erotic connections, but they were probably the exception, not the rule.

Let me clarify: I am by no means condoning cheating here. There are few things harder to bear than betrayal by someone to whom you’ve opened your heart and made yourself vulnerable. Cheating rarely ends well for any of the parties involved, and make things a whole lot harder and more complicated if/when it’s discovered. I don’t think cheating is the solution to the problems we collectively seem to have with marriage, monogamy and commitment, though, as stated above, it’s a solution men have chosen repeatedly throughout the ages.

I’ve had many female friends who have experienced cheating get triggered by the Ashley Madison leaks as they remembered the pain they experienced when they had discovered a cheating spouse, and they inevitably sided with the women who were about to find out that they too had been betrayed (although, to be fair, I’d wager to guess that not too many folks were actually hooking up through the website).

While I wasn’t interested in being a party to men cheating on their wives, I could certainly understand how they got to that point. I, too, had been an unwilling participant in monogabacy, with a husband who didn’t want to have sex with me, yet refused to tell me what kind of sex he did want to have, or what needs were going unfulfilled and causing him to turn away from me. I spent many years being cranky and frustrated and patient and sad and angry and confused: I loved my husband, was crazy attracted to him, and wanted to have an intimate, erotic relationship with him.

Instead, I got years of, well, pretty much nothing. He wouldn’t even kiss me most of the time. Regardless, I remained faithful, until I thought it would be a good idea to fix our relationship with polyamory. I tried this route for a year (more on that in a bit), and finally decided to ask him for a divorce. Unlike many other folks in sexually dead marriages, there wasn’t enough else good in the relationship to make me want to give up on sex for good, especially when it had taken me many years to find a partner with whom to share it. I reasoned that if I was going to commit to being monogamous, the sex better be damn good.

While we gleefully moralize, shame and judge those poor bastards who wanted to get laid by someone other than their lawfully wedded wives, we seem to be unwilling to admit that people have sexual needs that are frequently not met in marriage. Life intervenes, and people change. Health concerns, children, aging and stressors with work or family cause our sex drives to ebb and flow. No one should be forced to dispense sex on demand if they aren’t interested in having it, but is it really right to expect that when we commit to another, it may mean giving up on sex altogether? Surely there must be a better solution, some sort of middle ground.

Of course, at this point in our evolution, we have set ourselves up to fail. Despite the fact that the ball of wax that is love, sex and intimacy is the most important part of our lives, we have almost no education about these things. While culturally we worship porn on one end of the spectrum and romance on the other, we aren’t taught how to be present and close to another, how our bodies work, what turns us on, how to deal with conflict and a host of other skills that might prepare us for navigating the uncharted territory that lies between two people. Toss in a healthy dose of shame around our bodies, and make people obsess about their appearance. Teach one sex to be passive about their desires, and ask the other to suppress their emotions. Tell young folks to ignore the hormones surging through their bodies and save themselves for their one true love, and then throw a pair of ‘em together with zero experience, mismatched libidos and an expectation that they will stay committed to each other for fifty years.

What could possibly go wrong?

One of the things I see bandied about constantly in discussions about infidelity is that people shouldn’t commit to monogamy and marriage unless they are ready to commit. The current iteration of what marriage means, and what it’s for, is pretty new. Never in the history of partnering have we put so many hopes and expectations onto the romantic coupling between two people. Our significant other is supposed to be a best friend, a mirror for personal growth, a partner in adventure, a roommate, a support system, a parent to children and – above all – a faithful lover who fulfills all our needs for love, sex and intimacy.

Tear people’s attention away from their soulmate with the obligations of work, friends, daily chores, self-care, family and creative pursuits, and we are putting a lot of strain onto one institution. It’s little wonder it’s not working out so well. Because our society is oriented toward individuality and success, and downplays the importance of interdependence and relationships, few of us have the time and resources to create a successful partnership we aspire to in marriage. A therapist I know often tells her clients that a relationship is like a part-time job. How many people treat it that way?

I’m curious, too, what this type of honesty makes the dating landscape look like, especially for the many women who seem to be making the strident demands for monogamous marriage and commitment; from what I hear from the dating trenches, there’s already a dearth of such men out there. If we’re insistent that men be more honest about their sexual desires, we can’t be surprised when they tell us that maybe monogamy isn’t for them. Think most of them will choose monogamy? Fair maidens, get thee to the closest gay bar, talk to one of your favorite gay friends, or put a profile up on Grindr and feast thine eyes on male sexuality that doesn’t take women into the equation. It can be pretty damn promiscuous, but most men don’t mind because, well, they’re men. Many gay men in committed relationships don’t equate love with fidelity, and it works out just fine for them.

Of course this gives women a choice about whether or not they are involved with someone who wants/needs multiple partners, but it also leaves them with many fewer partner choices in the pool of available candidates. It’s clear that many men aren’t being open about their desires, but if the number of cheaters is high, like 1 in 2, then that essentially cuts the pool in half.

The desire for monogamy is largely female-driven, though not entirely, and has been linked to biology. (My partner is much more inclined toward monogamy than I am. Good thing I chose a guy who fulfills my sexual needs beautifully.) If women don’t appreciate being forced into anal sex and threesomes by their male partners, men shouldn’t be forced into monogamy by women. Why should women’s emotional desires prevail over men’s sexual needs, especially since the current setup doesn’t seem to be making either gender happy and sexually satisfied? Perhaps the women who feel that modern life leaves them too stressed and distracted to have and enjoy sex, and just seek companionship and a life partner, are better off partnering with other women (and keeping their Hitachi Magic Wands close by).

Diamonds, you're no longer a girl's best friend.

Diamonds, you’re no longer a girl’s best friend.

I’ve also heard a lot of people say that in addition to being honest, if married folks want to seek extra-marital sex they should just be open about it. From personal experience and watching many others, polyamory is not only a poor option for fixing a relationship, it exacerbates existing problems in horrible ways. When my husband and I tried it at my request during the last year of my marriage, I thought it would be a good solution. I was a perfect candidate: I worked part time, was child-free, had a good sense of boundaries and am not overly jealous. We were in good shape financially. I had plenty of friends who were practicing consensual non-monogamy, and had spent a ton of time studying alternative relationship styles.

Instead of getting my sexual, emotional and intellectual needs met, I found myself going on lots of dates but not clicking with anyone. (Plenty of guys want to get laid, but not many want to be in a relationship with a married women, even if her husband says he’s on board with it.) Meanwhile, my husband got into a serious relationship with another woman immediately.

I ended up spending a lot of time managing his schedule and supporting him in being successful with her, adding yet one more item to my to-do list. It did nothing to address the problems we were having between the two of us – I felt increasingly isolated and frustrated and lonely. And because he was getting his emotional needs met elsewhere with someone who was still new and fresh, he neglected to put any work into our relationship. The month before I decided to leave, I asked him to stop seeing her and focus on what was going on between us, putting her in a painful position as well. (He immediately went back to dating her after we split up, and continued to date her for a few years.)

Consensual non-monogamy is a lot of work, and for women who are already carrying a heavy emotional load with partners and children, it’s probably not a viable option. I have friends who manage to pull it off successfully, but they are few and far between. If people don’t have the time and bandwidth to deal with the relationship issues they already have, adding more people and complexity usually just makes it worse.

And let’s talk about honesty for a minute. While being honest throughout your relationship is a good thing, the honesty needs to be there from the beginning. Actually, the honesty needs to be there long before we get involved with anybody. People who don’t want to be monogamous must be honest about those needs with themselves first. If our libidos are low, we long to be tied up, or we’re attracted to several genders, we owe it to our partners to come clean about our desires, even if it reduces the number of potential partners.

Sex certainly isn’t the only part of a relationship, but it can consume so much of our lives when it’s out of whack. And if we hold the expectation that our life partner is going to fulfill all our sexual needs, then maybe we need to prioritize finding the person who delights us in bed. Of course there are many factors that go into evaluating a potential life mate, but sexual compatibility needs to be much higher on our list, even – and especially – if that compatibility means sex is something we want only once a month.

Recently I met a woman in her mid-20s who had hooked up with a guy who told her that he liked his ass played with during sex. She was squicked about it and didn’t want to see him again. He had done both of them a favor by being honest about his desires. Doesn’t it make sense for him to meet a woman who says, “awesome! Let me grab my strap-on!” and for her to not to waste her time dating a guy whose desires are a turn-off?

Instead, women will oftentimes think to themselves, “well, he makes great money, and I bet he would be a great dad, so I will keep seeing him and he’ll just have to forego the finger in his ass while we’re making love because I don’t like it.” Because that shit happens ALL THE TIME. Are there sexual compromises in relationships? Yep. But doesn’t it make sense to find someone who is as sexually compatible with you as possible?

Honesty also means getting real about the fact that our sexual needs are not static, and that we may go through periods where our partners can’t or won’t be able to perform. My man and I have these conversations frequently: I’m in perimenopause, and he has some pretty substantial health problems, so we know there is a high chance we will experience a physical disconnect at some point. Since our sexual relationship is vital, and vitally important to both of us, we absolutely need to be able to bring our concerns to each other and know that said concerns will be heard without judgment or guilt. I have no idea what a workaround in this area might look like for us, but being able to acknowledge it and be prepared for it long before it becomes a problem is a relief, especially after being with someone who responded to sexual issues by shutting down communication.

Maybe if we spent more time planning our marriages instead of our weddings, we’d be more successful at making them work.

Perhaps most importantly, we need to become better acquainted with our sexual and intimate selves long before we involve another person. What does a good sex life look like? (Hint: “good sex” usually means something completely different to each of us.) What sort of touch makes your body sing? Can you be vulnerable, in and out of the bedroom? Can you ask for what you need? What are the top 10 fantasies on your sexual bucket list? How do you handle conflict, and what did your family of origin teach you about love and sex? What does an ideal partnership look like, and what does marriage mean? Is it something I actually want? (And yes, I realize that this sort of introspection is more available to those who can afford it. Privilege definitely extends into our bedrooms.) Maybe if we spent more time planning our marriages instead of our weddings, we’d be more successful at making them work.

Do you REALLY want to know what's inside? Ooops! Too late!

Do you REALLY want to know what’s inside? Ooops! Too late!

And since we’ve opened Pandora’s box of what marriage is about, maybe it’s time to admit that it’s unrealistic to expect one person to fulfill all our needs, not just for sex but also for intimacy, emotional support, childrearing, leisure activities, care-giving and day-to-day living. The nuclear family unit has been largely isolating and burdensome for many, especially for women. Perhaps if we extend our definitions of what relationships mean, and our networks of people we can go to when we need something, we can take better care of ourselves and our loved ones and spread out our support systems instead of putting it all at the feet of our one true love.

If we are unwilling and unable to do this, we have two choices: the first is to continue as we are, having expectations based on our ideal relationship fantasies, and being blindsided when our partners and their needs change, and the dissolution of said relationships tear apart our families, both economically and emotionally.

The second is to make sure that when we do choose a partner, we choose someone whose goals and desires match our own and make sure it’s a good match before we commit. I know I didn’t meet the person who rocks my world in and out of bed until I was nearly 50 and had being involved in several long and short relationships. He drives me crazy, and challenges me in many ways (and vice versa), but I have a lot less to “settle for” because I had gotten clear about my own desires, especially sexually. Whether we’re doing some sort of role play and fantasy, having a drawn-out romantic seduction or saying, “hey, let’s have sex,” go in the bedroom, unceremoniously get naked and fuck, the sex we have is deeply satisfying. Monogamy – and continuing to be turned on and horny – hasn’t been hard to do because we fit each other so well sexually.

Of course the second way is risky, and means that we may end up alone because we are being a lot choosier, but that seems to be happening anyhow – look at all the single people out there who don’t have any sort of relationship at all. Even more telling, look at the people who are married and see how few of them seem to be having sexually satisfying marriages.

We have been given an unprecedented opportunity to have some serious conversations as a society about the future of marriage, monogamy, families and faithfulness. Perhaps going forward we can spend a little time considering what it is we need from our partnerships instead of blindly going into them without forethought and having our hearts broken when expectations and reality don’t line up. Is it less romantic to write relationship contracts than to be swept off of our feet? Absolutely. But we have a much better shot at monogamy and marriage if we can define what they mean to us, and can find someone who shares our desires.

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Going viral

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(Note: occasionally I will blog as an advice columnist, and am happy to offer you some feedback on issues you might have regarding love, sex and relationships. Feel free to email me at epiphany@bluestartemple.com to ask me something. I will, of course, keep your name and identifying characteristics on the down low….)

And now, for our first question:

Recently, I met someone that I am actually interested in dating. We met, had chemistry, and ended up kissing. Three days later we both ended up with cold sores. In the process of dealing with our sordid pasts, my new “friend” disclosed that he also has HSV-2.  He told me that his ex-wife did not have the virus but that he prefers to have non-sexual contact with partners since being diagnosed. I myself have HSV-1 and occasionally get cold sores. Usually the outbreaks are far and few between but usually associated with extreme stress, fatigue, and anxiety.

I am incredibly impressed with his honesty. He definitely scored points for having the balls to put totally up front. He didn’t have to be and so many people fail to be straight up about having STD’s. I am genuinely interested in dating this dude but I need more information about the virus, his past, the occurrence patterns, and whether or not I want to put myself at risk. 

First off, you should be glad that you actually have a choice about this. STD’s often get passed around because of the shame that surrounds them. Many people who contract an STD and try to be honest about it get hit with a barrage of comments like, “you filthy, disgusting, plague-ridden whore! How dare you think that you deserve to experience sexual pleasure? Do us all a favor and close your legs and never ever ever have sex again! People like you make me sick!”

“you filthy, disgusting, plague-ridden whore! How dare you think that you deserve to experience sexual pleasure? Do us all a favor and close your legs and never ever ever have sex again! People like you make me sick!”

Once upon a time, the Catholics had a monopoly on shame, but these days it's a national pastime.

Once upon a time, the Catholics had a monopoly on shame, but these days it’s a national pastime.

Of course, what these people don’t realize is that their fear and shaming is what helps get STD’s transmitted. Few are the people who can go through a few rounds of this without realizing that they better keep quiet about their dirty little secret lest they face involuntary celibacy. I knew a guy who had HIV who told me that 9 out of 10 people who are HIV+ say that they will not voluntarily admit to being infected (I don’t know if 9 out of 10 also lie and withhold the information when directly asked). And so, another unwitting person gets an unpleasant surprise, those who are uninfected get to feel morally superior, and fear, ignorance and misinformation rule the day. All kinds of people get STD’s, even those who act like judgmental assholes. And it’s more likely to happen when you don’t know a whole heck of a lot…or are too embarrassed or ashamed to even bring up the topic to begin with!

Ooops – someone just kicked my soapbox out from under my feet. Sorry, but this is a pet peeve of mine. Let’s look at the practicalities of your situation. The first thing you can/should do is educate yourself. Do more than just read about it. I recommend a visit to your city’s STD clinic, as these folks have the latest information, lots of practical advice and you can avoid an unpleasant go-round with your family physician (who won’t know nearly as much as the clinic peeps anyhow). You can also  call the excellent 24-hour hotline sponsored by San Francisco Sex Information and pick their knowledgeable brains. And, of course, get a full panel of tests on a regular basis if you’re sexually active.

One of the three great lies of the 80s!

One of the three great lies of the 80s!

As you will discover, 1 in 6 people is infected with HSV-2 (Herpes Simplex Virus 2, the Genital Edition™). And, you will also realize, that it’s entirely possible that 15% of the people you’ve slept with in the past have had HSV-2 and haven’t told you about it, so you’re probably lucky you didn’t get it before. You will also discover that HSV-1 (Herpes Simplex Virus 1, the Cold Sore Edition™) is exceedingly common (estimates range from 60-90%) and that mouth-to-genital contact with someone who has HSV-1 can cause the oral sex recipient to contract HSV-2. Good times!

While having sex with someone who has HSV-2 does not automatically mean that you will contract it, there are a couple of things about HSV-2 that make it kind of tricky. Sores can occur on the groin area, and not just on the shaft of the penis, which renders condoms safer, but not completely safe (or on the labia instead of inside the vagina if you have girly bits). The other thing is that even when people aren’t having outbreaks (a lot of people who have HSV-2 only get one horrific outbreak and then never have another one), the virus does this lovely thing called asymptomatic shedding where the infected area will give off the virus for several days prior to an outbreak occurring. Asymptomatic shedding also occurs a few times a year even if the person isn’t having an outbreak. So while you can sleep with an infected person for years without contracting the virus, you can never be 100% sure that it won’t happen.

Don't forget to breathe!

Don’t forget to breathe!

How can you decide if this risk is worth taking? As with navigation of all things relationship: communicate. With a little luck, your potential partner is an expert on his particular flavor of HSV-2. He should be able to tell you how aware he is of his outbreaks, how frequently he gets them, if he gets any warning signs in his body, etc. Does he take medications or supplements that might keep it at bay? Does he take good care of himself, and is he physically healthy? He will be able to answer your questions much better than I can. Hopefully you will be satisfied with his responses. This is also a fantastic opportunity to find out how well he communicates about unpleasant, contentious topics; people who are capable of doing that are rare indeed.

It sounds like he’s pretty damn conscientious about it, and has avoided situations where he could transmit it. While I would say that I admire his chasteness, and his commitment to a life of celibacy, and freedom from romantic entanglements, I also think that infected people deserve to have great sex lives just like everyone else (and doubly so if they are honest and upfront, as he has been). Ironically, sex can be a great stress reducer, thus potentially contributing to keeping his outbreaks to a minimum.

Sometimes, you gotta take a chance.

Sometimes, you gotta take a chance.

Ultimately, though, the only person who can decide whether or not to move forward is you. I will say that, STD or no, sex is always a risk. Whenever you open yourself up to another person, you take a chance. And I would say that heartbreak and pregnancy are way more likely to occur than getting an STD, but if you want to make sure you truly stay 100% safe, then get thee to a nunnery. I don’t mean to make light of your situation (because there is obviously a risk here), but very few of us blissfully skip a way from a sexual encounter without being changed in some way. It’s impossible to guarantee utter safety when it comes to matters of the heart; even shutting down and turning away from the possibility of connection carries its own sort of pain. Sometimes you have to grab for the brass ring. And besides, if you’ve been dating for a while, you know how hard it is to meet someone you actually click with. All of them are going to have some marks against them.

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What it’s like to be in love with an emotionally available man

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A few weeks ago I was chatting online with a west coast acquaintance. She told me she had given up on dating, and had decided to just do hookup sex. She had met a guy, and they started sleeping together. The sex was great and they both seemed to be enjoying themselves. Then, out of the blue, he told her that he had realized he couldn’t do casual sex, and that while she was his type, he wasn’t in a position to be dating her at the moment, and so he was breaking things off. It could be that he truly felt that way, or it could be that he felt like she was starting to get attached to him and didn’t want to lead her on, or that he was starting to fall for her. (Hard to know when I’m only getting one side of the story.)

She was more than a little devastated.

I have so many women friends who are attracted to emotionally unavailable men, and I get it. I was one of those women for years. After doing a huge chunk of healing work, I found that my perception had shifted, and I was no longer interested in these commitment-phobic guys. My first relationship after that transition turned into a marriage; strangely, it was with a man who a friend had tried to hook me up with several months before. I had rejected him because I thought he was probably boring (read: emotionally available). After my marriage ended, I started dating my current partner, whose heart is wide open to me.

As you can probably guess, things roll a bit differently with him than with guys I’ve fallen for in the past. I realized, too, that if you haven’t experienced being on the receiving end of deep love, you might not know what that looks and feels like. Below you will find some of the ways that I know that he is telling me what’s in his heart…and how I can trust him with mine:

He is supportive: as evidenced by this popular video a while back, many men tend to be problem-solvers and don’t know how to be empathetic. I’m more than welcome to cry on my guy’s shoulder when I need it, and it doesn’t make him uncomfortable.

Can I interest you in a nice set of luggage?

Can I interest you in a nice set of luggage?

He is self-reflective: My guy is very willing to examine his feelings, and works to resolve the disagreements that come up. Not only do we deal with issues we have as a couple, he also constantly works to self-improve. He is capable of receiving feedback and criticism…and acting on the same. Neither of us is perfect, but we try not to blame each other. When you put our collective emotional baggage together, we have a rather nice collection of luggage.

I always know where to find his heart.

I always know where to find his heart.

He’s not afraid to tell me how he feels: The other day, I got a couple of text messages from him. “I’m so in love with you it scares me sometimes” and “BTW…don’t think I told you today how absolutely fucking beautiful and smart you are.” This is standard for him, both in text messages and in person. He makes sure to tell me that he appreciates me, and acknowledges that he thinks I’m beautiful. He’s not afraid to make himself vulnerable to me, nor does he try to suppress his feelings about me.

He allows me to be childlike: I do a lot of scientific research, pay my mortgage on time and love a good debate. I also jump up and down, clap my hands and say “yay!” when he comes in after work, and run around pretending I’m an otter cracking abalone on my belly. Not only does he find these younger parts of myself delightful, he often lets his young self come out and play with me. To him, silliness is a source of fun and creativity, not shame and embarrassment.

He loves having missionary position sex: The other night we were getting ready to have sex and debating whether to do it doggy style or face-to-face. The latter won out, as it frequently has in recent months. Having our hearts next to each other amplifies the connection in our genitals. The result is some of the best sex either of us has ever had.

The eyes have it!

The eyes have it!

He is devoted: While porn bores me, my boyfriend enjoys watching it. A couple times a month, he will show up with a story of getting hit on by a girl at the grocery or a restaurant. (Great sex and deep love will make a person attractive, so it makes sense.) I don’t feel threatened or jealous in the least; I know he’s not going anywhere. And if he were to develop a crush on someone, he would feel comfortable with telling me about it.

He loves my girlfriends: While my female friends aren’t romantically involved with my boyfriend, they are very comfortable coming to him for snuggles, love advice and emotional support. He is loving and kind, and treats them with respect and affection to the point where they often ask if he has a brother (yeah, he does, but you wouldn’t want to date him).

Truer words have never been spoken....

Truer words have never been spoken….

He does all kinds of nice things for me: Even when he works all day, he’s always willing to take out the trash, feed the cats, or cook dinner. As I’ve told him numerous times, I can carry my own damn groceries, but it’s still nice to have someone who likes to make your life easier. He gets pleasure from taking care of me, and so I let him do it.

He is careful with my feelings: While he can be maddeningly logical and literal in disagreements, he never belittles my perspective or feelings, and rarely raises his voice. He is great at seeing cause and effect, and does his damnedest to avoid causing problems. He recognizes that my love for him gives him great power over me, and he strives to not take advantage of that power.

Of course, there is a downside to this emotional availability. His past includes physical abuse, molestation, bullying, depression, a dysfunctional marriage, several suicide attempts, cutting and a family history of alcoholism. As a sensitive person, the only way he could cope was to shut off his emotions entirely. When he turned them back on, they came out in a flood, and now he feels all the things. Along with intense love and joy, he often feels deep sorrow and pain. Still, it’s better than the alternative, and I wouldn’t trade him in for a shinier, newer model if you paid me….

C'mon...give it a try!

C’mon…give it a try!

And finally, a Piffy axiom to keep in mind: It’s easier to teach an emotionally available man to rock climb than it is to teach a rock climber to be emotionally available. Look for the heart when evaluating potential partners. After all, you’re here for the love, not the pain.

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Women seeking unicorns

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When we returned to my house from a fancy birthday dinner at Olivia, he looked and said, “there’s an envelope on the door. It’s for you. Go look at it.” I opened it. Inside was a letter from his kinky role-play persona to mine. (No, I won’t tell you what it said – my mom might be reading this!) It instructed me to go inside, follow the trail of clues to the next envelope. It also said there would be treats for me.

A reasonable facsimile of my bedroom the night of my birthday.

A reasonable facsimile of my bedroom the night of my birthday.

I unlocked the door, and stepped into a dark house. The floor was covered with a trail of rose petals, candy and electric candles (thoughtful of him not to burn the house down). I picked up each of the candies as I went through the living room, the office, down the hallway and into the bathroom.

I turned on the light in the bathroom, and saw another envelope taped to the mirror. When I opened it, it gave me instructions to change into the clothes that had been laid out for me, and then proceed to the bedroom for the next envelope(s). I found the outfit that corresponded to the role-play scenario he had chosen for the evening, along with two pairs of stockings. I couldn’t decide which one I was supposed to wear, so I put on one of each.

The rose petals and candles continued to the bedroom, which was also lit with candles. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed that several of our toys had been laid out, and the sex swing had been hung. There was a bottle of wine with two glasses poured on the dresser. I opened the first envelope on the bed, as instructed. It directed me to stop reading after the first paragraph, and open the second envelope. In it was a birthday card that said, “I love you. You are the center of my universe.” Going back to the letter, I was instructed to lie down on the bed, put on the blindfold, and wait for him to come in.

Yes, they did taste just as good as they look.

Yes, they did taste just as good as they look.

Our role play was punctuated with him feeding me chocolate-covered strawberries, and offering me sips of wine. At one point, he told me that I must be a witch, because I continue to get more beautiful every time he looks at me. Eventually, the role-playing gave way to round 1 of fantastic sex. After a break, we continued with round 2 of role playing (the punishment phase), followed by more hot sex. After, we talked, we kissed, we snuggled, we laughed, we listened to music, we drank wine. Hours later, we curled up together and fell asleep with smiles on our faces.

By now, I’m guessing that many reading this blog post think that I’ve been mainlining 50 Shades of Abuse Disguised As Romantic Fantasy and that it’s wishful thinking on my part. But no, this really happened, a few days after my 51st birthday. He had been telling me all week he had a big surprise planned, and only a couple of people knew about it. He had enlisted the help of two of our girlfriends, but all they knew was that they needed to show up at my house at a certain time. After we left for dinner, they arrived at the house. When they got inside, they found an explicit step-by-step list of how to set things up (there were over 30 items). To their credit, they followed it exactly. IP information He had told me during dinner that he had a big client project he was tracking that would require him to be on the phone. In reality, he was texting back and forth with our friends, giving them clarification, telling them where to find things, etc. The set-up of the house took most of the two hours we were at dinner. They left a few minutes before we got home.

He's quite charming, once you get to know him....

He’s quite charming, once you get to know him….

While many men seem to be missing the romance gene (one of the many reasons I offer the Design-A-Date service), they are out there, though you wouldn’t know them on first glance. I had no idea that my sweetie would be the flowers-and-candy type when I met him. Most of the women I know who desperately want a boyfriend like him wouldn’t have given him the time of day had he answered their ad. Hell, it was a bit of a fluke that we even started having a conversation: he wrote a brief initial email that I normally would have ignored, but I disagreed with one of his statements and ended up replying to him. And he is a completely different man from the one who shuffled in to our first date 20 minutes late with a sad expression and a horrible shirt. He definitely didn’t step out from his horse-drawn carriage, in a tuxedo, tossing rose petals in his wake. Yet women will ignore the guys who might have that potential all the time, instead wanting the fully realized version. It used to be that a staple of fairy tales was that sometimes the frog or the ogre would turn into a handsome prince, but that seems to have been forgotten. Transformation is the cornerstone of the Hero’s Journey.

I cannot take responsibility for the person he is today – he did that on his own. He often says that he took a chance with me because he had lost so much by the time we had met that he felt he had nothing left to lose. Accepting someone, and appreciating them for what they do bring to the table, might inspire them to grow and change.

Hey, ladies, would you like to see my horn?

Hey, ladies, would you like to see my horn?

A friend recently said that looking for a decent boyfriend was like searching for a unicorn. My unicorn looked like an old, tired nag that was about to be sent to the glue factory when I met him. But he had good teeth, and good hooves, a strong heart and several years of life left in him. I took him home, gave him some food and water, untangled his mane and – lo and behold! – there was the horn, peeking out from under his forelock. I’m guessing he’s not the only guy out there who doesn’t look like a great catch on first glance, but who turns out to be exactly the sort of guy women are dying to date. Perhaps it’s worth hitting “reply” next time a guy who doesn’t seem to be all that sends a message to you from the dating site. Who knows? Perhaps you could find yourself walking into your house and finding it transformed into a romantic fantasy.

 

(NOTE: The day following the publication of this blog post, I came across this article on the history of the unicorn. Apparently the unicorn was the product of a game of telephone that transformed the lowly rhinoceros into the mythical beast. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere….)

It’s always something.

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It’s 6 a.m., and I awaken to the sound of my boyfriend’s alarm going off on his phone in the living room. It goes on for a solid five minutes. He hasn’t hit snooze because he’s sleeping so soundly. Fortunately for me, he’s sleeping on the couch: he has horrible sleep apnea, and if we had been sleeping in the same bed, he would have woken me up with his uneven snoring (don’t even get me started about the constant sweating, another side effect of the apnea).

Look, Ma, no wallet!

Look, Ma, no wallet!

I climb out of bed a few minutes later because my own alarm has gone off. We are up early because we have to catch a plane at 8 a.m. He’s sleeping heavily, so I start shaking his foot. He has only been sleeping for three hours. The previous night we had gone to visit friends in San Antonio, and the next morning I got a panicked text message from him telling me that he thinks he’s left his wallet there, and can I make sure it’s where he left it. Yes, the wallet has been found, and I spend a couple hours working out the logistics to get it back. I cannot manage to find a friend who is heading up to Austin, so he spent three hours driving there and back to pick it up.

Dude, give me just 5 more minutes.

Dude, give me just 5 more minutes.

To say that my man is not a morning person does little to convey the difficulty of waking his ass up. If he had his druthers, he would be up until 3 a.m. every night. When we were living together, I would spend about an hour gently trying to wake him. I would kiss him, shake him, whisper silly questions in his ear….lather, rinse, repeat. I marveled at his ability to fall back to sleep so easily. While he never reached full-on anger when I insisted he get vertical, he frequently resembled a polar bear who had had his winter hibernation interrupted.

This morning, though he doesn’t have an hour for his brain to come online. We are on a tight schedule and need to scramble. In the process of putting his last bits of stuff into his suitcase, he discovers he can’t find the stuff sack for his sleeping bag, and pushes its fluffiness onto an already bulging pile of belongings. When he goes to zip it shut, the zipper breaks. Quickly he retrieves two smaller suitcases and starts stuffing his belongings into them, all the while grumbling under his breath. We finally make it out the front door.

As he is packing, he discovers he’s out of cigarettes. He stops on the porch to grab a half-smoked one in the ashtray, but it’s disappeared (that was my fault). His nicotine-starved brain panics. Since there are no cigarettes at the airport, we stop for some. The minutes are ticking by and I am worried we will miss our flight. I had planned to be on the road at 6:30, and it is now 6:50. Things are not looking good.

Running through the airport: it’s what’s for breakfast.

We get the car parked, grab the shuttle and run to the baggage check. We may have missed the cut-off for our bags. We have a few minutes to spare, but there is something wrong with his name in the computer. We go in to the counter, get the name thing sorted and surprise – unexpected luggage charge! Boarding passes in hand, we head outside for a final cigarette. As we are rushing to security, suddenly he realizes he needed to pee. (I’ve never understood this about him; my bladder tells me it wants to be emptied long before I’m about to pee my pants.) Security kills another ten minutes; the boyfriend absolutely refuses to go through the microwave scan and has to be manually patted down by a friendly TSA agent every time we fly.

We make it to our gate right as they call our names for the final boarding call. He falls back to sleep as I type this. Of course.

It was an annoying, unnecessarily stressful morning. I do not like to travel this way.

This is how I do like to travel: I’m a morning person, and know how to wake up and hustle out the door, regardless of the ungodly hour. Air travel is one of the most annoying rituals of modern life, but I have come to a place where I accept the adversity, grit my teeth, deal with discomfort, and stoically get through the unpleasantness to put my ass in a small seat so I can go see people, places and things that rock my world. I do my best to be efficient, upbeat and kind (I swear it’s gotten the counter agent to take my luggage after the cutoff period more than once.)

Over the past three years, I’ve learned that we have different ways of dealing with getting to the airport, and usually we end up doing it his way. Because I have been paying attention in therapy, I did my damnedest this morning to let him have his emotions. I didn’t try to cheer him up or tell him to look on the bright side. I lost my temper briefly. All in all, things went much better than our previous trip when he almost passed out due to low blood sugar and I snapped at him because we were running late and didn’t have time to grab him a snack. (That one goes in the Girlfriend Hall of Shame.)

Your chariot awaits, but it's not taking you where you think you're going....

Your chariot awaits, but it’s not taking you where you think you’re going….

At this point, the average single woman is shaking her head and saying to herself she’d never put up with a dude like this. Not only does her mythical soulmate not smoke or overpack or lose his wallet, but he has been sitting at the gate for at least 15 minutes before they begin boarding. He will hold her hand on the flight and order champagne to celebrate the beginning of the fabulous trip to a romantic destination of her choice (of course he’s picking up the tab). Traveling together will be a joy, a grand adventure, and absolutely perfect…like everything else in their relationship.

Ladies, please, by all means, keep on fantasizing. Because you know what? There’s always something. It might be something small, like he doesn’t know that socks go in the hamper (he may not even be acquainted with the large, rectangular box in the corner of the room), or something large, like you’re a morning person and he’s a night owl. Quite likely it will be both…and dozens more somethings. When two full-grown adults partner, they move through the world in different ways, and this causes all sorts of friction. Even when there are enormous amounts of compatibility, there will always be something.

One of the most bullshit parts of the romantic myth is that you and your soulmate are going to be completely and utterly compatible. It says that your political views, your taste in music, your favorite brand of toilet paper, your favorite album in college – all these things will neatly line up in a symbiotic, sychronistic, cosmic, serendipitous way. Because your soulmate is THE ONE, the peanut butter to your jelly, the alpha to your omega, the perfect person, the guy whose previous relationships were only a dress rehearsal for your amazing, glorious, peaceful union. What could POSSIBLY go wrong?

The struggle. It's real.

The struggle. It’s real.

The good news is that when you fall in love, you get to enjoy that fantasy for about three months. The bad news is that fantasy usually collides with reality, and you find out that your prince charming hates tomatoes, is consistently late for dinner, plays video games late into the night and sees no reason why he shouldn’t continue to do these things, thank you very much. Sometimes, it’s just too much to handle, and you return him before the 100-day money-back-guarantee trial period is over (minus the $50 restocking fee, of course), or you decide to keep him and go about trying to change him and mold him to match the perfect picture in your head. Then, the power struggles begin. And somewhere in universe, a thousand therapists are rubbing their hands gleefully and thinking, “I’m going to make a lot of money off of these two.”

What if your perfect guy was the one who was there not to passively fulfill your every wish and desire, but had shown up to sand down your rough spots where you find it hard to practice compassion, patience, empathy or forgiveness? What if partnership’s primary purpose is self-growth, and love is a by-product of that process? What if you find out that People Magazine isn’t lying, and that partners are people just! like! us! They shop! They are distracted! They make mistakes! What if instead of trying to make your partner change himself, you set the alarm 30 minutes earlier, put snacks in your bag and make sure you have several packs of cigarettes on hand to make the morning go more smoothly, because you are much better at organizing and planning than he is?

A balanced relationship contains good and bad.

Balance. It’s hard. But you can’t have it without the good and the bad.

In the short term, in the moment, shit like getting on a plane with him drives me nuts, stresses me out, makes me angry and puts a big frown on my face. In the grand scheme of things, though, the positive far outweighs the negative. I know he loves me deeply, is devoted and kind, makes me laugh, and will be there for me when life is beating me to a pulp. Hell, I’ll put up with a lot of nicotine meltdowns (and cigarette butts in his pockets that don’t get discovered until after I do the laundry) to have a steady supply of yummy, orgasmic, heart-connected sex. Not only will I put up with it, I’ll walk to the fucking store to get him cigarettes to keep his annoying ass around because I love him so much, and wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Because he loves my annoying ass, and wants to keep me around too.

Looking for love in all the wrong places

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Last week I was chatting online with a friend who had recently ended a relationship. For the past several months she had been grappling with whether or not to keep dating a man who was very emotionally available and loving, but who didn’t challenge her intellectually. Her mind won out over her heart, and she was single once again.

I mentioned that my boyfriend and I had in mind three different guys to set up with another mutual friend who had recently separated from her husband. My friend asked me if I had anyone to set her up with. I always keep a running tally in my head of all my single friends, male and female, and introduce them when I feel like there might be potential for love. I cast about in my head for someone who might be suitable; this particular friend had been looking for “her guy” for quite a while, and has met most of my single male friends over the years. I suggested a man I knew who she had never met, who seemed to fit her criteria. Intelligent? Check. Emotionally available? Check. On a spiritual path? Check. He had dated another woman whose opinion I respected a while back, and she had given him the thumbs up, both in and out of bed.

After I described him, she rejected him. “Too old, probably,” was her excuse. Would they have made a good match? I certainly don’t know. But to reject someone outright without even meeting him doesn’t seem like an invitation for love to come and find you.

Almost every person I know who is single, regardless of age or gender, is struggling with trying to find a partner. Sorting through the sheer number of possibilities, and trying to filter for those who may be compatible, is an exhausting process. A radically different strategy is needed to find love in this day and age. Here are a few things that have worked for me, and others, who have found the holy grail of love.

Letting go: it's not just for Disney princesses.

Letting go: it’s not just for Disney princesses.

Be free: Do you want to be in a relationship more than anything else in the world? Is this the only item on your letter to Santa? If so, the best thing you can do is make peace with your singlehood. Truly accept that you might spend your entire life alone without a man to love you. I believe that fear of being alone is the greatest barrier to love. While I think everyone deserves love, no one is entitled to it. And focusing on some imaginary thing in the future that may or may not happen keeps you from experiencing the love that makes up the fabric of time and space, the love that’s in front of you all the time, the love that is much greater than anything one person can give you. “I love my life, but…” doesn’t cut it. Let it go. Really let it go. Don’t just say it, feel it in your heart and mean it. I’ve seen this strategy work countless times. One friend met her husband on New Year’s Eve literally five minutes after she declared that she was done with trying to find men.

Be open-hearted: Now that you’ve banished the fear of being alone, and are able to be present right where you are, let yourself feel all the love that surrounds us. Women often say, “when I meet the right person, I’ll open my heart and fall in love.” That’s backwards. You have to open your heart before you can meet the right person. Look at two people. One is walking around with an empty cup and saying, “please, I’m so thirsty – will you fill my cup?” The other one has a cup that is overflowing and saying, “I have so much to drink, I want to share it with everybody! Here, try some!” Which person are you more likely to be attracted to? Like attracts like. Be the lover you want.

Free your mind, and the rest will follow.

Free your mind, and the rest will follow.

Be open-minded: What constitutes the “right person”? Usually what women have on their list is the superficial shit. A list like this only limits you; what looks good might not feel good; what you want very likely is not what you need. Things like consistency, loyalty, kindness and empathy can’t be discovered on a first date…or a second. Get rid of your expectations of what the perfect person looks like. Change your daily routines. Date guys who are totally not your type. If you go on a date and your response is, “well, I wasn’t crazy about him but I didn’t hate him,” go out with him again. Let the universe surprise you, and love will likely show up packaged in a way you never expected.

Be engaged: erotic energy runs through every level of creation. Playing with this current will make your life more enjoyable on a moment-to-moment basis. Interact and engage with the world. Wear clothes that scream your presence and invite curiosity, connection and conversation from those whose paths you cross. Smile and look people in the eye. Offer compliments; make people feel good about themselves. Flirt with plants, the wind, that cute eggplant at the grocery store, little kids, old men (they will love you for it). The world – your world – will be a more vivid and happy place because of it…and you might find yourself engaging with someone who is a potential romantic interest.

Hop on in and let me take you for a ride….

Hop on in and let me take you for a ride….

Be available: Every day I run across women who say they want to be in a relationship, but their behavior says anything but. It’s kind of like being a cab driver who is looking for fares but doesn’t have their “available” light on, and they wonder why no one flags them down. You can’t send mixed signals out to the universe about your availability. Either you want love, or you don’t. Saying “yes, but” is shorthand for “I’m not open to it.” And so, you keep driving in circles while other cabbies make their money.

Be a hot mess: I am. You are. We all are. Don’t hide it from potential partners. It’s part of being human. If you accept yourself as flawed, you’re more likely to accept another’s flaws. And then you can each love these tender, wounded little kids you’re carrying around inside of you (you know, the ones mommy and daddy didn’t love right when said kids were little) and heal some of that huge rift between men and women. That’s the good shit, right there.

Be realistic: Refusing to settle” is often code for “I want an absolutely gorgeous man with a killer stock portfolio and a loving heart.” Do such creatures exist? Yep, I’ve met a couple of ‘em, but they are few and far between. And pretty much every single woman between the ages of 18 and 65 is looking for that guy. Even if this stereotypical fantasy doesn’t match your own about who Mr. Right is, there is definitely a dearth of strong, solid men with open hearts. If you look for the guys who know they want a more modern model of relationship, as opposed to the guys who are already there, you open up so many possibilities. The sweet, loving man I love today is unrecognizable from the shut-down, frightened man I met almost three years ago. He was lurking in there somewhere, but had closed himself off so much that he needed someone else to show him that it was okay to live and love. Caterpillars do turn into butterflies.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em….

You got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em….

Be willing to gamble: You cannot have great love without great risk. Going into a potential relationship holding back and trying to play it safe will only connect you to others who do the same. Vulnerability has been a hot word the past couple years, but its literal meaning is capable of being wounded or hurt. If you aren’t willing to allow for the possibility that your heart could be broken into a million pieces, it’s unlikely that you will find a person who wants to cherish your heart. And finding true love DOES inevitably include utter heartbreak: what if your partner dies before you, is in a freak car accident or gets cancer? I have a close friend who met a man much younger than her. Despite the fact that she knew it wasn’t going to work out (he wanted children, and she had just finished raising her son), she fearlessly kept dating him and didn’t play it safe. I attended their wedding last month.

Be ready to work: In the fairy tales, as soon as your eyes lock with your soulmate’s, all your problems are solved. You never need to do another therapy session because your true love will accept you just the way you are. Sorry to burst your bubble, but the hard work is just beginning. You will be learning different things with a partner than you do alone, but the evolution, growth and change do not stop. Once the honeymoon is over, your partner will push your buttons so well that you will think your parents gave him a detailed instruction manual on how to best get on your nerves. A relationship will put you on the fast track to work on your shit. It requires enormous courage, awareness, tenderness, patience and forgiveness. It is a fucking part-time job, and it is not for pussies. The good news? There are huge opportunities for becoming a better, more compassionate, more self-aware human being than you ever thought possible.

What would happen if you just let go?

What would happen if you just let go?

Be prepared to surrender: People are busy as shit these days. Finding someone who will “fit in” to your Google calendar is probably not in the cards. If you aren’t willing to skip a yoga class or two, eat something that’s not on your stringent diet or travel to a different part of town to meet a potential partner, it’s unlikely you will be willing to let love alter the fantasy future you have envisioned for yourself. Falling in love will re-arrange your life molecularly, from the bottom to the top, in big ways and small. For the past 50 years, women have been learning to take care of themselves and not to depend on men for security. Economic freedom has allowed us to be in control of our lives and our destinies. Love asks us to say yes to interdependence, to create partnerships and to allow others to care for us. Being open to love means willingly giving up our control, and getting something much greater in return. Stop struggling to cling to the banks as the current tugs you; let the raging water carry you to the place of calm.

Aliens Among Us

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(This piece was written for/performed at the April 2014 Bedpost Confessions.)

Take me to your leader….

Take me to your leader….

Esteemed members of the Xelara grand counsel, thank you for allowing me to report on Project Propagation. As you know, Xelara is always on the lookout for fresh blood to interject into our population. Interbreeding has allowed us to thrive; we are one of the most envied races in all the galaxies, and not just because of our incredible taste in footwear and ability to bilocate. Unfortunately, if we don’t find a new humanoid race to breed with soon, we will deteriorate into a race of inbred dullards. Like you, I was very excited to discover the planet referred to as Earth in a solar system about 10 galaxies away. On first glance, its inhabitants seem ideal for our purposes – they are physically beautiful, with well-developed brains and an advanced civilization. But when I walked among them, and observed their customs and practices with regard to mating, well, I realized that I cannot recommend that we interbreed with them. This report will outline my findings.

I gathered my information during a 3-month stay on the planet. I chose to embed myself in a city in the northern hemisphere known as Austin, Texas. Texas is the second-largest state in a country known as America, and Austin is its capital. The weather is hot for most of the year, and people often socialize outdoors while scantily clad. It is also home to the University of Texas, the largest institution of higher learning in America. Much of this report comes from observing its students, who are amongst the best and brightest in the country. Unfortunately, their formal education regarding mating is woefully neglected, and they learn about sex from their media. They spend most of their time with their eyes glued to electronic devices, even when they are studying or visiting with friends.

Counsel members. Scary doesn’t even begin to describe what these children learn, and how it manifests in their sex lives. I was shocked, and saddened, by their attempts to mate. Please allow me to elucidate.

I first turn your attention to the females. From the time they are born, girls are bombarded with the message that their worth is based solely upon their appearance. Through the thorough application of the color pink, they learn that to be female is to be soft, demure, agreeable and – above all – pretty. They are told tales of princesses whose faces are so fair that every person and forest creature in the realm loves her, and that their beauty will attract a handsome prince. This prince will be her soulmate and it is their destiny to be together. (tried as I might, I could never figure out what sex had to do with shoes?) Both of them recognize this connection from the first moment their eyes meet, and finding the prince means the princess will live happily ever after. (Apparently soulmates agree on everything and never argue.)

And they lived happily ever after…not.

And they lived happily ever after…not.

As these girls grow into women, they spend more and more time obsessing about their appearance. They constantly battle with their weight, and despair when they gain a fraction of an ounce. They are expected to reach an ideal of physical perfection that few possess naturally, and when they don’t, their self-esteem crumbles away. (This made no sense to me, an intelligent mind is the most erotic feature of a female.) While hormones rage through their bodies, they are told to abstain from sex, that it is something so special that it is reserved for their one and only soulmate. But they must wait for him to appear, and remain chaste and pure. If they don’t, they will end up being as worthless as a piece of previously chewed gum. (I know, I know…previously chewed gum is considered a delicacy on our planet!) When the prince does appear, he professes his undying love with an extremely expensive piece of rock for her finger so that everyone will know that she is worthy because this man finds her beautiful. The battle cry of the princess who has yet to meet her soulmate is “put a ring on it” or rather, put a ring on it (whispered).

The mating ritual that comes next is called a wedding. Everything a girl has done has led to this magical moment, and many girls spend years fantasizing about the ritual and the dress. (Rarely have I seen so many ugly dresses in all my life; the brides often looked like they were sitting in a pile of sugar.) Never mind that the girls have yet to find their soulmates; that is a minor detail that will come later on. Of course everyone can see how eternal, perfect, amazing and beautiful the couple’s union is, and their commitment will be both monogamous and lifelong.

After the ceremony, finally, the two of them mate. It is the female’s first time being sexual. Even though she has been given no opportunities to explore her own sexuality, somehow her prince magically knows just how and where to touch her, and their first night together results in a passionate union. She allows herself to fully flower as a woman under the strong, masculine guidance of her prince, and of course they reach their climax at the same time. It is as amazing as every story she read promised her it would be. And she just knows that this is only the beginning, and that their sex life will only continue to get better and more intimate. She and the prince will be utterly, passionately devoted to each other until they are in their old age, and they sit contentedly holding hands, surrounded by their children and grandchildren. The story always ends in happily ever after. Maybe they never die?

This story is in great contrast to the one the males are told. From an early age, they learn that to be a man means they have to lock up their emotions and their hearts. The men on earth often have higher sex drives than the women, and during puberty their bodies appear to vibrate with pent-up sexual tension. Because the girls are not supposed to have sex with the boys, the boys often satisfy themselves with visual entertainment and self-pleasure. There is a huge market for sex videos; it is one of the biggest industries on the planet, and men learn about sex from watching them. In these videos, the women were uniformly attractive, devoid of genital hair and had large, round, firm breasts like balloons. They always wore very tall high heels; perhaps these were the shoes that indicate whether or not a woman is a man’s soulmate?

Because every boy deserves the threesome of his dreams….

Because every boy deserves the threesome of his dreams….

From watching these films, the males learn that they are entitled to have sex with any woman they choose and that within five minutes of meeting her, she will pull her clothes off and be available to them. (Most of the time she will bring along a friend as well and the man can watch them have sex too.) It seems that the only function women serve is to satisfy men sexually, and the women have no life or identity outside of that role! In many of the movies, they didn’t even have a name. Apparently on earth, conversation is not an aphrodisiac.

The sexual acts depicted in films are frequently degrading, and they are devoid of any emotion or connection. The women tended to scream very loudly, though I couldn’t tell if it was from pleasure or pain. While it is possible that some of the women in these films are enjoying themselves, many of them have glazed looks in their eyes, and their enthusiasm appears to be faked. When the man is satisfied, he will pull out and spill his seed over the woman’s body or face. (perhaps this was some sort of special skin treatment?) The popularity of these films led me to believe that men who are fathers would be very proud to see their own daughters appearing in such films.

Xelara Grand counsel members, I can see by your faces that you are as shocked as I was. There were many times I wondered how this race survived and replicated itself. It is almost as if the males and the females are from two different planets, speaking different languages. In contrast to these contented images the media portrayed, I saw anger, frustration, sadness, pain and loneliness as young people learned that their fantasies and expectations rarely matched up with the reality. Reproduction is often unplanned and accidental, and done without consciousness, and the family unit frequently disintegrates, leaving the children heartbroken and yearning to create their own ideal fantasy relationships. And thus the cycle starts all over again.

As you know, our race lives to be about 200, and we have collectively decided that each person should be allowed to have one child. As such, we make sure that when we do choose to breed, the child will be planned and the product of a well-matched couple. Our race is known across the galaxy for our prowess in sexuality. Sex is always a gift, something beautiful, wondrous and fleeting to be cherished and remembered. It is an honor and a privilege when another allows himself to be naked and vulnerable in front of you, and we take that responsibility very seriously. We spend years cultivating connections with others, and passion and intimacy flourish in all sorts of configurations. While it is possible that two individuals will commit to each other for a lifetime, we recognize that people’s wants and needs change, and that the spark of eroticism might lead us into the arms of others. As we age, we develop a network of close, sweet friends and lovers who nurture us and expand our capacity for love and pleasure.

Sex that involves hearts and parts tastes delicious.

Sex that involves hearts and parts tastes delicious.

The only thing better than to know oneself sexually is to know another sexually. It can take a lifetime to find the right people. We can spend years getting to know a person. We take our time and let the attraction build prior to acting on it; with 200 years, there is never a need to hurry. When you meet someone, there’s usually one physical thing that attracts you: the deepness of her voice, or maybe his soft belly. But most important is how a person smells: when we hug another for the first time and put our faces in the nape of their neck, we are seeking those whose scent is as intoxicating as a field of spring flowers in bloom, and we want to drown in a bathtub of that perfume. We want someone whose arms fit perfectly around our waists, and whose heads rest under our chins, like our bodies are two puzzle pieces that fit together. Sex is our playground; it’s the place where we can exchange our everyday archetypes, masks and personas for different ones, where we can laugh and giggle, tease and experiment. We look for the people whose bodies, hearts and souls combine to give us pleasure that overwhelms and shuts outs the rest of the world, who make our nervous systems light up like a Christmas tree with every touch. As women, we seek the cock that fits like a hand in a glove, and will hit that special, tender spot that is so intense it feels like it’s tickling our soul. We cling to our partners as if they were the last person alive, every cell of our bodies seeking to get closer, trying desperately to merge into one. Our souls overflow the boundaries of our bodies. The friction builds, and the pleasure becomes almost unbearable, washing over us like waves until they finally reach the shore. And when we’re done, and we hold each other, laughing, crying, sweating, sighing and smiling, we can look into each other’s eyes, and see our reflection, and know we are animal, humanoid and divine.

Xelara Grand Counsel Members, it is my greatest wish that the people of Austin, Texas would stop listening to the lies their media tells them. Great sex isn’t about the hottest girl doing the most outrageous thing, or how beautiful a woman looks on her wedding day. Great sex is as individual as a fingerprint. Perhaps these children will untether themselves from their electronic devices, learn to follow their noses and – most importantly – think for themselves. Let’s hope for their sake that someday, they do.

Thank you for allowing me to present this report. I am happy to explore other planets and species that might be good for Project Propagation. Surely, somebody out there must be doing it right.

Your loyal servant, Xensana

Fluidity

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Recently I finished reading Sexual Fluidity: Understanding Women’s Love and Desires by Lisa Diamond. In it, she posits the theory that women’s sexual orientation tends to be less fixed than men’s, and that often women find themselves falling in love with other women (or men, if they identify as lesbian) at various points in their lives. Nicentbatcardta There can be many reasons for this; some of the women considered themselves bisexual from the get-go, others found themselves in circumstances where they developed a close relationship with a person different from the gender they were usually attracted to, still others fell in love because of who the person was, not what they were. The conclusion is that for women, relationships are complicated (well, duh).

As a straight woman who spent the better part of her adult life alone, I spent many years wishing that I was sexually attracted to women. While it’s true that the grass is always greener, it seemed like being able to have more options is always a good thing when it comes to sex (not to mention that it highly increases opportunities for fun and pleasure in many different configurations). And at least one of the factors Diamond discusses in the book is already present for me: I have incredible, intimate, beautiful, deep friendships with many of my women friends. It seems like it would be simple to make that leap from friendship to something more erotic.

Sadly, it doesn’t seem to work that way for me. I’ve had more than one situation where I was sexually attracted to women friends, but when I tried to act on it, there was no erotic charge. I describe it as two magnets pushing away from each other. It just doesn’t seem to work for me, much as I would like it to. Diamond talks about male sexual orientation being more hard-wired, that men seem to not have this fluidity in their sexuality (or perhaps it’s just suppressed by our society’s general discomfort with intimacy between men).

Because, of course, lesbian relationships are meaningless if they don't turn straight guys on.

Because, of course, lesbian sex is meaningless if it doesn’t conform to heterosexual male beauty standards.

I do think, though, as a concept, sexual fluidity among women is one that can gain some serious traction. Every day I talk to women around the country who are frustrated with their lack of prospects in the dating world. I have many beautiful, successful friends and acquaintances who are left asking “what’s wrong with me that I can’t meet someone?” Mostly it seems to be a supply and demand problem: huge supply of eligible women making a large demand on a small supply of eligible men. Couple that with the fact that with online dating, women in their 40s and 50s are now competing with women in their 20s and 30s for the same pool of men, and it starts looking sad.

I especially think the idea of having women as partners is an appealing one for older women who have gone through menopause and have found their sex drive disappears. Of course this doesn’t happen to every woman – many women find their sex drives going up when the specter of pregnancy is out of the picture – but for those who have little to no interest in sex, why not open things up a bit more? It seems like many women would have better luck at finding someone who was a good companion, shared their interests, was emotionally supportive and had many of the qualities they were looking for in a partner if they were going for women. This especially makes sense when women get much, much older: personally, I don’t want to be competing with 9 other women for 1 man in a nursing home. This concept was popular in the late 1800s in the form of Boston Marriages, where single women living in the city would share a home and resources because they couldn’t afford to live on their own. Some of them were likely lesbians, but I’m guessing that many of them were doing it for other reasons.

I guess the old paradigms die hard. Earlier this year, my boyfriend and I talked about getting married so I could get on his health insurance (a very good reason to marry, in my book). Inevitably when I mentioned this to my women friends, their eyes would light up at the thought of us having a big, romantic wedding. It’s entirely possible that it will go down that way, but both of us have already done that, and are looking at things from a more practical standpoint. For many years, marriage was a business contract, but we have moved very far from that idea. Women now spend all their time dreaming about a big wedding, while neglecting to put much thought into the marriage that will come after it. domain information . Sadly, a fancy wedding rarely guarantees a happily ever after outcome….

Having a relationship for a woman would, I imagine, look like failure for many. The practicalities of partnership often take a back seat to romance in the mind of many. I can understand why this might be – after all, we are spoon-fed stories about Prince Charming from the time we are young. travel tool But perhaps it’s time to be more realistic. There’s a whole lot of Cinderellas out there who are waiting for the dude with the glass slipper to show up, and they may end up waiting a very long time….

God as thou

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I spent this past weekend doing a Body Electric workshop called Celebrating the Body Erotic. I had been curious about their teachings since I read Reclaiming Eros: Sacred Whores and Healers a few years back, and at one point contemplated traveling to the bay area to study with them. A friend told me they were going to be doing some workshops in Austin, and I managed to get in. I wanted to go both to know myself better and also to add some skills to my repertoire for my own work. I was not disappointed on either count. I am still in the process of integrating the information I gained into both my mind and body, and have no doubt this will continue for a while. I don’t remember all of my dreams, but their direction seems to have changed a bit, and they feel like my subconscious mind is making adjustments based on my wishes and desires for how I want to be in the world.

I cannot say much about the actual things we did, or the life stories and courageousness of the other participants (many of whom had traveled a great distance to participate) but the one thing that resonated for me during many of the exercises was the concept of God as Thou. I have thought about this a lot over the past few years. It is something Ken Wilber talks about in his book Integral Spirituality. He said that we often discuss God in the first person (I am great and powerful!) and third person (that dude in the sky is great and powerful!) but we rarely look at God in the second person (the person who stands before me is great and powerful!). The word Namaste, on the lips of many in yoga classes around the country, touches on it (I bow to the God in you), but how often do we forget it when we walk out the door and are forced to encounter those who are doing their best to survive in this world and oftentimes not doing it gracefully? Do we offer the same level of respect to the mother of a screaming child, store clerk or homeless person as we do our peers? Sadly, the answer is often no.

I think this lack of respect falls harder women in our society, especially as they age. It used to be that elders were valued for their wisdom and knowledge, but these days, it’s all about youth and innocence (or youth and sluttiness, but that’s an entirely different story). It is true

When you move to the right side of the photo, you become invisible.

When you move to the right side of the photo, you become invisible.

that many women are worshipped (more or less) for their beauty, but that is only if they conform to acceptable beauty standards. On the shadow side, women’s bodies are scrutinized mercilessly, and I often see public conversations about the merit of their minds and talents deteriorate into a criticism of their appearance. There is no worse insult to a strong, powerful woman than calling her fat or old, especially when it’s done in the public media. If a woman isn’t in the tiny zone of homogenous beauty, it is much easier to discredit and ignore her, or attack her if her voice demands attention.

This emphasis on appearance weighs heavily on public figures, but it can be much greater for those who have never been considered beautiful. We are often our own worst critics, and it’s easy to internalize the message of unworthiness based on dissatisfaction with our looks. Many times we can and do accomplish amazing things with our families, our work, our art and our activism, but these talents can be underscored by a sense of unhappiness that surrounds our physical appearance. Hiaspicoctile . 20 years ago in her book “The Beauty Myth,” Naomi Wolf discusses how the backlash against feminism has been to imprison us in our own bodies, a prison from which we never escape. Said prison can become more desperate as we age, leaving us feeling trapped, bitter, ignored and dissatisfied.

Religions that are grounded in the intellect often talk about the need to transcend the body, and Christianity has made shame and guilt around having a body one of its central tenets, especially for women (see: the story of Adam and Eve). In days past, gurus, monks and hermits (usually men) would dedicate years of their lives to mastering their bodies, ignoring and denying bodily functions, and especially pleasure, as sinful or distracting from the goal of becoming more spiritually evolved. places of visit . These days, though, it’s nearly impossible to find a cave where you can go sit and get away from the world. And while some would say that the soul doesn’t exist, life on earth is experienced in the body. So how do we make our bodies feel safe, welcoming, inviting? How do we treat them as a temple instead of a prison?

This past weekend, this was accomplished by honoring others’ bodies, regardless of where they were on their journeys, what horrible things had been done to them in the past or what scars and wrinkles they had acquired. There is so much power in realizing that we are not alone; we are not the only ones who have felt ashamed, embarrassed, hurt by the way we’ve viewed our own bodies, or the way said bodies have been treated by others. It’s a huge switch in the dominant paradigm of isolation and guilt, and watching the change on women’s faces over the weekend as they were able to relax more into their bodies was amazing. The message was clear: you have a body and you live in said body. Your body is valid, beautiful and worthy of feeling pleasure. Enjoying your body is a right, not a privilege and it need not be reserved for those who look a particular way. Each and every one of you deserves pleasure.

What might the world look like if we approached self-love from a physical level first of all? What if women were taught from an early age that pleasure was their birthright, and that what’s important is how we feel, not how we look? What if we did away with the guilt, shame and fear around having a body, and learned to love and accept said bodies, whether we chose to share them with no one at all, one person, or many? What if those choices we made were truly honored, and our boundaries respected?

What if, indeed.

Womansplaining

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(This piece was performed at the December 2012 Bedpost Confessions. My boyfriend was working in a fairly public role at the time, and he attended the show in drag. I love that man….)

Womansplaining

Oftentimes my man will tell his fellow geek friends stories about our sex life, and they will get quiet and stare at him open-mouthed. They will say shit like, “Dude, you’re living in a porn film. Teach me how to do what you do.” But it’s not really anything that he does. It’s more about the perspective inside his head and how he treats me. Apparently they think there’s some software that will get a woman to have super hot sex with you if you just have the reg key.

Guys, let me give you a piece of your own advice: Read the Fucking Manual. Oh, wait – you can’t find the manual? Well here, let me help you out. I’ve decided to write down what it is I appreciate about him that makes me give him everything that he wants in bed. Hopefully, this will give you a few bread crumbs about how you might get the sort of erotic relationship you want. Well, here it is: Womansplaining: The Manual.

Introduction: Light My Fire.

jim-morrison-the-doors

The time to hesitate is through, no time to wallow in the mire.

My man and I met on Craigslist Casual Encounters. He was one of dozens who responded to my ad. I wasn’t expecting much – I’ve spent hours reading inarticulate, badly written porn scripts, oh, I mean, emails, and deleting dick pictures from guys who can’t follow instructions. I have had dozens of conversations with guys who stopped communicating the second they saw my picture and realized that Angelina Jolie was not going to be showing up at their house and having sex with them at midnight on a Friday. I have had guys meet me and tell me bald-faced, bullshit lies to get out of having to tell me that they aren’t attracted to me. On rare occasion, I’ve had some mediocre sex. But this time, it was different. This guy turned me on from the get-go, and hasn’t stopped since. I have been ecstatically, orgasmically surprised by how this man has exceeded all my expectations. Not only is a fantastic lover, he’s a genuinely kind person. Hooking up with him was kinda like getting a royal flush on the dollar slots at the airport on my way out of Reno.

You must be thinking that this guy is some sort of cross between Steve Jobs, Stephen Hawking and George Clooney, but that’s not the case. He’s not drop-dead gorgeous. He’s not rich. He doesn’t have flawless social skills. He doesn’t drive a sports car, have a huge cock or ripped abs. These are the things that men think matter to women, and that without them they don’t stand a chance. In all honesty, these things don’t carry much weight with women who aren’t shallow, and they will do nothing to compensate if they are attached to a man who treats women like dirt. Status symbols are the sort of things that may attract a woman in the short-term, but they will not keep her. These days, you gotta work for it.

So, what is it that does turn me on about this guy?

Chapter One: R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Aretha-Franklin-300x168

R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me!

My man respects me as a person. He understands that I have hopes, dreams, fears, likes, dislikes, and a million galaxies worth of thoughts inside my head. He respects my intelligence, my drive, my creativity, my ambitions, and my accomplishments. He treats me like I’m his equal, and I reciprocate. He understands that my life and where I’m going is every bit as important to me as his is to him. In other words, he pays attention to the person I am when we’re not having sex. He gets that what makes me good in bed is much, much more than what I look like.

This is a huge contrast to how many men behave, especially when they are trying to have casual sex. In their minds, women should exist only during that space of time when they’re fucking them, and that during that time it’s a woman’s sole purpose to be hot, wet, ready and obsessed about having anal sex, followed by cum all over her face. It’s as if nothing else about her life matters – they have no interest in the fact that she might have had a bad day at work, or that she’s fighting with her best friend (unless, of course, said best friend can come over for a threesome). I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat across a table from a guy who talks about nothing but himself – all he wants is a hot chick to serve as his groupie. Newsflash: women do not exist solely as sex objects. Sometimes we like to be treated like sex objects, but we like that sort of shit with men who respect us as people and are role-playing that we are dirty little sluts. Guys who actually feel that way about women are called misogynists, and they tend to scare the shit out of me. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to fuck one.

Look, I don’t need love in order to have sex with someone. But if you’re not giving me love, you sure as hell need to be giving me respect. I know this statement probably places me in the territory that many men seem to despise – feminist – but hey, that’s what a lot of women are these days. Most of us make our own money, pay our own bills, have our own careers and exist in the world of men. We would like to be treated as human beings who participate fully in society. And honestly? Sex between equals is much more interesting than fucking someone who thinks you’re nothing more than their plaything.

Chapter Two: The Pleasure Principle

janet jackson

And oh my meters running so I’ve really got to go, it’s the pleasure principle oh oh, oh hoo

A lot of guys love pussy. My Man loves women. He totally gets off on getting me off. He loves making me come with his cock and his hands. When I told him that I only get off from penetration and not oral sex, he spent the better part of six months trying to figure out how to get me to come with his tongue on my clit…and he succeeded. The look of astonishment on his face when I have an orgasm is a beautiful thing to behold – he has so much reverence for the unlimited capacity for female orgasm. It’s kinda like a little kid unwrapping presents on Christmas morning – he loves every last one of them. I have never in my life felt so worshiped. And trust me, after he makes me come several times, you can be damn sure that he gets his. If I could, I’d spend all day every day enjoying the exquisite sensation of feeling his cock slide in and out of me, hitting my g-spot over and over. When we’re having sex, my pussy is the center of the universe, and he’s more than happy to orbit my sun.

So many guys seem to be rolling along with their own sexual agenda and expect women to be nothing more than a prop to fulfill their fantasies. Last year, I dated a guy briefly who showed up on our third date with a very large butt plug that he wanted me to wear all night. He didn’t even bother to ask if I liked anal sex, or if I was interested in having it with him. As you can guess, there was no fourth date.

At this point, a lot of guys are probably asking themselves why it’s important to put a woman’s pleasure first. According to a recent study, only 11% of women reported getting off in a first-time hookup. In another study, 64% of women got off in their last sexual encounters, compared to 91% of men. That’s pretty damn sad, and follows the mainstream model of what sex is: put penis in vagina and thrust until man reaches climax. Female pleasure doesn’t even enter into that equation. What would the world look like if we put women’s pleasure first? I’ll tell you what my world looks like these days: after having multiple orgasms for 30-60 minutes and giggling incessantly, I am a happy woman. A VERY happy woman. My friends always comment on my positive attitude, my glowing skin and my shit-eating grin. This is a far cry from the angry, bitchy woman I was a few years ago when married to a man who had sex with me once a month, if I was lucky. If a guy can make me come over and over, I’m going to happily indulge his fantasies, play every role he wishes and feed his fetishes…then serve him breakfast in bed. And while having frequent, orgasmic sex won’t solve all of your relationship issues, it will make a lot of the small stuff seem unimportant.

Chapter Three: Foxy Lady

jimi hendrix

Move over, Rover, and let Jimi take over….

My man is constantly telling me that he thinks I’m beautiful. He tells me that I’m so sexy that it stuns him, and that my ass would look great in a potato sack. His emails and text messages always refer to me as a hot girl. He complements my breasts, my eyes, my tattoos, the curve of my waist, my feet. He tells me that I am the most beautiful woman he’s ever slept with. Every time I get dressed to go out, without fail, his eyes light up when he sees me, and he tells me that I look in-fucking-credible. He has told me repeatedly that I am perfect just the way I am, and that I never need to lose weight to look better.

Look, it’s no secret that men are visual creatures. It’s also no secret that most women in the United States have huge body image problems. We magnify our flaws, and are generally unhappy with our bodies. We are constantly bombarded with images of what beauty should be, criticized for not being pretty, skinny or young enough. Every day, everywhere we go, we are reduced to nothing more than our appearance. A friend of mine recently told me that her husband’s ex-girlfriend would break dates with him because she had gained 3 pounds and didn’t want to be seen naked. After getting it out in the world all day, it really sucks to have that negative burden added to by our lovers.

I don’t get that from this guy. I can confidently spread my legs and beg him to fuck me. I’m not worrying about it because earlier in the day he told me that he thought my thighs were too fat. I find it easy to be naked around him and I’m comfortable in my own skin because I know he thinks that skin is beautiful.

Chapter Four: Walk the Line

Johnny+Cash

Because you’re mine, I walk the line.

My man respects my boundaries. I specifically said in my Casual Encounters ad that I needed time to get to know someone before we jumped into bed together. He had no problem obliging me, and chatted with me online for several hours before we met. When I sent him a nude of myself with my back to the camera, his response was, “Oh my god. I so want to fuck you,” and then he went back to non-sexual conversation. He also made it perfectly clear that while he definitely wanted to sleep with me, if I said no, he would respect that decision. Our first meeting in person, we sat across from each other at the restaurant, and enjoyed a conversation about dozens of subjects, none of which had to do with his cock in my pussy. When I finally told him that I wanted to sleep with him, he said, okay, paid the bill…and then took me home and fucked me vigorously for over an hour until my head was spinning. And this has continued. In every encounter we have had, I know that I always have a choice to say no, and am confident that my no will be heard. I know that he will always honor my choice, no matter how hot or how crazy things are in the moment. As a result, things routinely get very hot, and very crazy.

Our liaison is a kinky one. It turns me on to give up control, to be ordered around, tied up and whipped. I know many men wish for that sort of arrangement and dream of having a woman do their bidding in bed. If a man wants this, he absolutely must create trust. I think a lot of men don’t realize how vulnerable a woman makes herself when she takes a man into her body. That vulnerability increases tenfold if she’s tied up and immobilized – it would be very easy to beat and torture a woman who was in that position. If a woman doesn’t think that you will respect her limits, she’s not gonna be your sex slave. In my travels, I’ve run across many, many misogynistic guys who call themselves sexual dominants who seem to think that translates to, “I can do whatever the fuck I want because you’re a doormat, um, I mean, a submissive.” I may be many things, but a doormat isn’t one of them. I love exploring the edges of erotic experience and sensation, but if it doesn’t feel safe, it ain’t gonna be fun for either one of us. Everything in a successful sexual relationship comes down to choice v. force, from the first flirtation to penetrative sex. An honorable man always stays on the side of choice.

Chapter Five: Just a Little Tease

lou reed

She’s a femme fatale (and, apparently, so is Lou).

My man doesn’t always give me what I want when I want it. When we first met, we worked completely different schedules, and often saw each other for an hour during lunch. We were both horny and wanted to fuck, like, five minutes ago. Still, he acted like he had all the time in the world, dragging his fingers excruciatingly slowly down the inside of my thigh, bringing his fingers to rest lightly on my labia without giving me the penetration he knew I craved above all. Even though he doesn’t have to work to get me aroused, he seduces me and teases me every goddamn time, and is rewarded by an even higher level of wanton desire and openness. This strategy has paid off for him hugely. He has never had to badger or pressure me to get me to do anything in bed. It took me three months of asking to get some anal sex, and five months to get the hard spanking I wanted.

Several years back, I appeared in a production of the Vagina Monologues. There is one part where the M.C. asks all the women, “If your vagina could speak, what would it say, two words.” The scream, in unison: “SLOW DOWN!” This is useful at every step of seduction and sex, and is a major key to female sexuality.

So many guys I’ve fucked in the past have had their eyes on the prize, and want to shove it in as fast as they can, after a few minutes of kissing, maybe an ear nibble or two, a quick grope of the breast and a bit of finger banging if I’m lucky. They’ve got the condom on while I’m still dry and not even remotely turned on, either physically or mentally. I can totally understand why men want to get there so fast – it feels amazingly good. But I promise, if you take your time, hold back and let her come to you, make her want it, you can’t go wrong.

Chapter Six: Do You Feel Like I Do?

peter frampton

Must have been a dream, I don’t believe where I’ve been.

And lastly, this man not afraid of emotions, either mine or his. We have cuddle calls instead of booty calls. Snuggling is just as important as sucking. There are times when we’re fucking, and things are nasty and dirty and slutty, and there are times when we can’t stop staring into each others’ eyes, kissing over and over, and being sweet and tender.

I have many single girlfriends who talk to me about their experiences of dating in the 21st century. I hear over and over again about guys who hold back, shut down and seem scared to death when presented with an opportunity to have amazing sex, deep love, and solid partnership. These guys are often scared of losing control, of being swept away in the feelings they are taught to suppress, the feelings that are province of women, the openness and vulnerability that makes other men call them weak sissies. When he and I met, he was in the process of extracting himself from a very painful 15-year marriage, and had a badly broken heart. There was no commitment between us – I made it clear I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend right then. But instead of shutting down and trying to protect himself, his response was “fuck yeah, give me more.” The sex was just so compelling and powerful that he could not walk away.

I love love love when we have raunchy sex. There is nothing in the world that makes me happier than having my feet and hands tied above my head, giving him complete and total access to my pussy. But woman cannot live by smut alone. And you know what? If you are having hours of mind-blowing, earth-shaking, multi-orgasmic, wake-the-neighbors, sweating, moaning, melt-the-bed hot fucking sex…it’s probably going to get intimate.

Conclusion: The Mystery Dance

elvis costello

She thought that I knew, and I thought that she knew, so both of us were willing, but we didn’t know how to do it.

I’m guessing that a lot of men out there will scoff at my suggestions, say that they’re doing just fine and that my advice only works when ball-busting women are looking for weak pussy guys to fuck. But it’s obvious that many men aren’t getting laid. Whether it’s Craigslist, OKCupid, FetLife or even Facebook, there are thousands and thousands of men who are seeking casual sex without giving anything in return. (An aside, here, guys: if you really just want to get fucked by a hot chick five minutes after meeting her, there is only one way to do it: pay her. Seriously, save yourself a lot of trouble and go hire an escort.)

On the other hand, I have talked to many women who are open to having a sexual relationship but feel frustrated by the shitty treatment they receive. Unfortunately, this is a gray area that both women and men are unsure how to navigate. But there has to be something in between anonymous sex and full-blown commitment. It’s pretty simple: if you’re having sex with someone more than once, you’re having a relationship with them. It may not be the sort of relationship that is intended to lead to marriage and kids, but it’s a relationship nonetheless. Personally, I think it takes more integrity, honesty and communication skills to be fuck buddies than it does to have a girlfriend, and that this sort of intimacy is precisely what many people are trying to avoid.

Maybe, though, my man is onto something here. Perhaps subterfuge, head games and making women feel insecure is not the best way to get laid. Maybe treating women kindly and with respect will result in super-hot sex. Might be worth giving it a shot. Honestly, though, it really doesn’t matter to me. If the way you’re doing it is making you happy and getting results, by all means, please continue. In the meanwhile, I’ll be showing up at my guy’s office after hours with dinner for him, and then fucking his brains out in the back seat of his car.