So I was watching Friends this morning – as you do on a Saturday (and every other day of the week) – and it was ‘The One Where Rachel Finds Out’. The title is irrelevant ’cause that’s not the story line that caught my attention, but I thought I’d say anyways. The secondary story line was that Joey was taking part in a fertility experiment, rendering him unable to have sex with the woman he was seeing. He expressed his concerns to the gang, saying that he didn’t know what to do because she’d be expecting sex. This is when Monica chimed in with:
Have you ever thought about being there for her?
Joey’s confusion got me thinking about how selfish men can be in bed, and how so many of them think that sex is finished when they’re finished. Sometimes it’s okay, sex can still be good even without a climax. And sometimes it’s necessary, as in, sometimes you fake a finish just to make it stop. We’ll start with the latter.
I have a problem with ‘faking it’. It gives the man a sense of accomplishment that he doesn’t deserve. He’ll carry on thinking he’s great in the sack, inflicting his tired ‘skills’ on other poor girls – he’ll never learn. This is why I have only faked it once.
It was in my third year of undergrad, with a ginger boy who had always liked me, and so who I turned to in times of desperation and recklessness. The night we finally went home together may have been the highlight of his year. I know that sounds conceited, but my housemates did come home to find him in my bed, supposedly with the biggest, happiest grin on his face. What can I say? I’m a catch. Long story short, the kid had no idea what he was doing. He tried, bless him, but it was dull as fuck. I had two options – teach him, or fake it. I went with fake it, and now he’s probably still out there fumbling around other helpless girls. The worst part was that he looked so pleased with himself, obviously thinking he was great and knew where everything was. Poor, deluded food. So, much to my dismay, we proceeded to cuddle for the acceptable minimum amount of time. And then I sent him home before the sun came up.
I’d faked it because I was bored, and wanted him to stop. But even boys who do know what they’re doing can have difficulties. Sometimes there’s just not enough time, sometimes you just aren’t in the mood, and sometimes they’re just thoughtless. Men are unsettled in their minds – they say they don’t want you to fake it, but then they’re upset when you don’t finish; they don’t put the work in, but then they’re upset when you don’t finish. It’s about their pride, and not your pleasure. But why should I validate you when you haven’t worked for it? Put the work in and you’ll get results. Then everyone wins. Last week, W, who is generally great (and who will wonder if I’m just saying that because he reads this), said:
How do I make you cum before I cum?
The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know what he was doing or where everything was. The issue was time. Having sex in public places necessitates quickness – and we all know most boys have no issue with being quick if we let them. It wasn’t that he didn’t try – he just didn’t try for long enough. And then once he was done, we were done. I call him out on it constantly, and although I’m aware that our time limit is a major factor so it’s unlikely to change, a girl can always hope, ya know?
A month or so ago, when a mistake we’ll call B, clocked that what he was doing wasn’t working, he said:
What do you like?
Although I’d rather he just knew, I appreciated him asking. I should have told the ginger boy what I liked and how to do it – it would have been in both of our best interests. Regarding B, I was too drunk to remember anything beyond that; I couldn’t tell you if he put the work in and if it paid off. Probably not.
For so many boys, sex is about them and their orgasm. They’ll do the required amount of foreplay and then you’re essentially a jizz disposal system. It’s not all boys – some boys are generous. And girls aren’t beyond being selfish either. But it should be balanced. There should be give and take and communication. Sometimes, though, sometimes you should just be there for her.