The male psychology on women’s orgasms is comparable to their psychology on housework: Men don’t pull their weight on either front because no one makes them. via The Orgasm Gap – The Daily Beast .
Oh please. I don’t really want to write another post about men-as-children. Nobody makes them?
You just live in your own little world, junior-autistics, I think that’s what it is. Awfully smug at getting away with it … and, goddamn dim bulbs, missing out on more than half the pleasure of life, which is, hello, mutuality. What you give, you get. How can it be any simpler.
Woe the broken chromosome.
“The woman really has to be the boss of the sexual experience, because it’s harder for women to have an orgasm through a straightforward sexual position. Women need to start understanding how their clitoral nerves are positioned,” says Angier.
… Clitoral stimulation, however, is not an image that gets a lot of airtime.
Let’s face it, nothing about women has had a lot of airtime. And speaking as one, I’m not so sure I want you to be able to objectify me or my sisters and cut us into little sound-byte, ADD, explanatory pieces. Because for one, I gave birth and I don’t begin to understand where that baby came from. I know this to be a mystery that has driven men nuts from, historically, Day One, but you are just going to have to learn to live with Woman, neither mastering us nor killing us. I know how men hate ambivalence, but honeys, all, there are two ways of apprehending this life: hierarchally or wholistically. You like zero-sum: guess which one has had the bones of failure within also since Day One and has been held in place, then, by the most awful, pitiful pastiche of force, torture, enslavement and any number of other woefully inadequate bandaids.
All the way from the clitoris to war. No it isn’t cute to have a clitoris, not the way Johnny Carson made it cute to have balls, for years and tiresome years.
I hate to see articles like the linked-to, which suggest, Girls, just be more proactive! In the first place, perhaps she doesn’t want to have a rip-roaring orgasm with a perfect stranger. Who invented this word “hookup,” anyway, and which sex does it really serve? Do you really think it’s any different than the long string of men making casual what is not, to us, casual, that any woman my age has lived through? In no case, at no time, were men right, of course … and I don’t have any answers, I don’t think everyone you screw is worth seeing again either. I think you’ve an equal right to get your rocks off … I’m just not so damn sure this isn’t part of the scam. That you’ve got rocks, in the same way, or that they’re going to go off the way the male does. Nope.
What I do think is that positioning yourself carefully, in the act, is a hell of a lot less concern than, midst this awful sexual cacaphony, you come to know your own body in your own way, in your own time. That this possession of self is how to ground yourself in a fairly nasty world. You don’t need a man to find out how you feel. How about that, first, before you swallow (no pun intended) his version.
How about learning, first, how deeply you can please yourself.
