Last Tuesday* night I went to bed feeling like a whore, but I shouldn’t have. The evening’s events were not my fault, but I did get the short end of the stick. Unfortunately, the stick was all I got, and I am unhappy, to say the least, about what seems to be a trending issue in modern sex.
I know that everyone’s sexual preferences are different, and that is absolutely respectable; however, I feel that there are certain things that should be shared with a potential sex partner as early as possible, and I also think that some things are just too old fashioned to be accepted below a certain age.
Case in point, last Tuesday night was my first “all-the-way” sexual encounter with a guy I’ve known for almost a year now. I met him through a friend’s boyfriend, and for a long time I kept him at arm’s length, and quite frankly a little further, because he was just too goofy and seemed immature. It didn’t help that his breath was extremely unappealing. I even told him about the breath issue and that I wasn’t interested in him as more than I friend. I wasn’t a bitch. Contrary to belief, I’m actually a really nice person, and I hate to let people down or hurt them. I just told him I was sorry and I didn’t want to lead him on, but I just didn’t think we were compatible.
So when he asked me to go to a Yankees game after not speaking for months, I checked with a close guy friend and confirmed that this was cool by the guy code since I’d been open and honest. Imagine my surprise when we actually had a really good time. The game was fun, he treated me like a lady (well as far as one can when hanging out with an awesome chick at a baseball game), showed me affection, and I ended up inviting him over for football. Over the course of four hours, one thing led to another, and we were definitely halfway down the third baseline when we stopped, as per my request, and he went home.
I asked him to wait until Thursday. It was like a jungle in my pants (between waxes) and I didn’t get paid until Thursday. It didn’t take me long, based on his size, skill and our sexual chemistry to decide that Tuesday was a better day for sex, especially since he didn’t seem to mind a little fur. Too much? Stop reading.
So he came over, clearly ready to get down to business and not in the mood to chat or kick it. Once we got into my bed, I initiated foreplay, since he clearly wasn’t going to and I’m a woman who needs it. I won’t say I’m the best at that stage of the game, but I can hold my own, and I held his too. At some point, the building pressure became unbearable, and we had sex. Satisfying sex for him after about…5 minutes. I won’t try to deny that I enjoyed it. The man is well endowed and not afraid of working on the bottom. But every woman knows 5 minutes just isn’t long enough for an orgasm, unless you fake it. And I don’t. Ever.
So while he struggled to prepare for round 2, I assured him all was cool as long as he helped me get to my happy place too. I just wanted a little help, even if only manually, to get me off. Any respectable man should be eager to oblige. He watched. Eventually I said, “Are you just going to watch me?” and when I added the question, “Why don’t you help me out?” he responded as follows:
I don’t eat.
Do I really need to go on? The infinite number of issues with this answer is self-explanatory, and it’s so unreal that I can barely believe it even happened.
I’ve never eaten pussy, so I can’t attest to the experience, but one thing I can say is that giving men head was not an especially enjoyable experience for me initially. My ability to become aroused during this part of foreplay is a skill and adjustment that was honed over the nine years I’ve been sexually active. I get it, dude. I really do. But it’s just not acceptable. It’s 2012. Oral sex is so much a part of our sexual identity now that entire songs are dedicated to it, and in my opinion rightfully so. The outdated idea that “I don’t eat” is the end of the conversation is honestly appalling. Which is probably why my mouth fell open when I realized what kind of meal he was referring to.
The most frustrating parts of the entire experience were his lax, amused attitude and his refusal to even MANUALLY stimulate me to orgasm after he gladly shot his 5-minute-old load. I’m not even one of those girls who bitches about that. Obviously sex is preferable to masturbation, but once I’m in that zone, I just wanna get off. Common courtesy is to help, especially if it’s your fault I’m still hanging.
And when a discussion is obviously upsetting me and threatening any relationship, friendship or otherwise, that we have going forward, how about try NOT to grin like a little fucker? That only drives my paranoia that you came just to cum and don’t give a fuck about me right on home and into the expensive garage I pay for with my hard earned tax dollars.
Give a fuck. Give head. Or get out.
Years later, after reading this experience all over again, having been removed from this situation for quite some time, it’s finally more clear to me what really bothered me about the whole shebang (and that’s it). What if the tables were turned?
I’ll be fair and say that the majority of men I’ve encountered since this experience have been happy to oblige and reciprocate dirty deeds. I hope I don’t have to consider myself lucky in that respect. What ground my gears back then was that I had given him what he needed, and most likely EXPECTED out of the deal. Twice, in fact. We’d cross that road, and he’d come to it. Yet, instead of holding up his end of the undiscussed deal, he disrespectfully treated me as though I were his plaything, not a human of equal caliber who also had needs.
Unfortunately, though we live in the 21st century, I fear there are still many men, and possibly even women, for whom this example of sexism and inequality is acceptable. There is a growing interest in the thoughts behind and acceptance of oral sex for women, but the fact is that sometimes, one is likely to accidentally crawl into bed with someone who feels that “not eating” is acceptable, yet still expects to be treated like a delicious popsicle. Why?
A good friend of mine used to maintain that he didn’t do that because he didn’t know who had been there before him. As can be expected, that defense always infuriated me. It shows such a lack of education about the female body, as though every sexual partner leaves a deposit of filth that cannot be removed by our body’s natural, and pretty fucking awesome, ability to clean itself. Interestingly, I don’t know where his dick had been either, but he sure expected every woman he was with to deliver her fair share of head. I suppose his soap was better than the totally organic and chemical-free stuff we ladies were born with.
It’s difficult not to make the connection between this double standard and the one that labels men as “players” and their female counterparts as “sluts” and “whores.” Why is it that our genitals are seen as biblical tools for reproduction, not to be touched in “unnatural ways,” but the penis is somehow immune to these same guidelines?
*Originally published September 27, 2012 on NewYorkSocialStatus.com