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Caution: The following article is rather sexually explicit so, all readers are advised prudence.
A significant element of my vocation is editing and reviewing scores of writer submissions for syndication and lettering critiques. And one of the greatest windfalls is reading different styles of prose and dissimilar streams of thought that perhaps would never go to press.
Last night, I reviewed this rather inflammatory article on Women and Sex by a Canadian author who no doubt, I could determine was an anti-feminist. While most of his arguments centered on sexual harassment in offices vis-à-vis consensual sex and male rights, he however made some interesting and rather factual observations of the opposite species that got me thinking; and to a large extent, he was indeed true.
Why, after so many feisty and intellectual debates on social and gender equality, do women (wives, girlfriends…) still think they’re doing men a huge favour by occasionally agreeing to have sex? Even the most urbane and refined woman insists on playing out an elaborate courtship ritual in terms of which the hapless male is unilaterally assigned the principal role of seducer, knight and 100% do gooder. She, in turn, adopts a patently dishonest persona comprising one part superiority and nine parts computation.
Tempting though they are, women’s bodies are not holy shrines, and all men are tired of being cast as high priests with a craving for defilement. In reality, the female life form is no more than nature’s artful and clever compilation of blood, bone, water and spongy, fleshy bits intended primarily to keep cosmetic companies in perpetual business and replicate itself with highest commotion.
The fact that Men find this living being absolutely attractive and desirable is a marvel of God’s genetic programming, not to mention an unassailable vindication of Duggan’s Theory of Form versus Function in a Meta-Universe. (This should not be confused with Big Al’s Conundrum, which relates that any woman to whom you are sexually fascinated immediately becomes a lesbian. whew!). In reality, female composition borders on the bizarre, some of the most sought after parts being located in places so illogical that they could have been conceived only by a hastily assembled committee in the heavens (with several dissenting members of course).
Other body parts are of such an abstruse nature that they are understood only by specialist doctors with an unseemly clinical interest in mucous membranes. Take the G-spot for instance. Most experts agree or rather everyone knows there is no such thing called a real G-Spot. Show me one verifiable G-Spot in a woman and I’ll show you my flickr collection of my recent extraterrestrial trip to Mars aboard a flying saucer!
And yet many men (yes, many men) still spend countless hours searching for the damn thing, their vain expeditions further compounded by reckless women’s (and men’s) magazines and innumerable sex-related Web sites that perpetuate the G-Spot myth by publishing fake accounts of moist treasure hunts, complete with intimate details and illustrative maps of the female genitalia. As a result, scores of men continue in their elusive G-Spot searches while women continue remaining splendidly and persuasively mysterious, their innermost desires and weird compulsions hardly understood, their bodies a loaded and largely unexploited source of mystical myths and carnal legends.
Daily work life, love, relationships, peer pressure and inter-personal hiccups make unjust demands on many men, and sometimes they lose direction. Even if men are not trapped by stereotyping or male bashing (i.e. men are lusty, men have a perennial sex drive, women are more interested in intimacy and love than sex alone, etcetera), men become upset and distressed because most women transmit perplexing and ambiguous signals.
“Yes” may indeed indicate a woman's consent, but when men stray into the “Yes but not now” or “Yes also means No” territory, the issue becomes downright cloudy or utterly risky. Ergo, they're obliged to wait until the message from her is so loud and clear that it’s a wonder the neighbours don’t complain and even then most men misinterpret the actual contents.
I have this somewhat confrontational theory. Rather than being besieged by their potent sex drive, most men initiate sex because they see it as the best way, sometimes the only way to express their love and feelings. Yet many men feel it’s something of an anti-climax, as if sex isn’t really sex unless it’ s accompanied by energetic thrusting, a munificent exchange of body fluids and at least one or two gloriously climactic orgasms.
What most men sometimes fail to realize is that almost all women have the amazing ability to enjoy closeness without actual penetration or simply put, intimacy without the sex. Loving words, soft caresses, romantic scents, dark chocolates, mellow music, verbal fantasies, etc – all these alone can arouse greatly sexual feelings in a women without necessitating the wham-bam,ooh-aah thing. Men ignore this hard truth at their own peril as a sensually aroused woman will sooner or later will herself make the first move. Perhaps, this would work if only men could wait a little longer and women could get over with their touch-me/touch-me-not moods faster. And now, only if they could ever agree...
A significant element of my vocation is editing and reviewing scores of writer submissions for syndication and lettering critiques. And one of the greatest windfalls is reading different styles of prose and dissimilar streams of thought that perhaps would never go to press.
Last night, I reviewed this rather inflammatory article on Women and Sex by a Canadian author who no doubt, I could determine was an anti-feminist. While most of his arguments centered on sexual harassment in offices vis-à-vis consensual sex and male rights, he however made some interesting and rather factual observations of the opposite species that got me thinking; and to a large extent, he was indeed true.
Why, after so many feisty and intellectual debates on social and gender equality, do women (wives, girlfriends…) still think they’re doing men a huge favour by occasionally agreeing to have sex? Even the most urbane and refined woman insists on playing out an elaborate courtship ritual in terms of which the hapless male is unilaterally assigned the principal role of seducer, knight and 100% do gooder. She, in turn, adopts a patently dishonest persona comprising one part superiority and nine parts computation.
Tempting though they are, women’s bodies are not holy shrines, and all men are tired of being cast as high priests with a craving for defilement. In reality, the female life form is no more than nature’s artful and clever compilation of blood, bone, water and spongy, fleshy bits intended primarily to keep cosmetic companies in perpetual business and replicate itself with highest commotion.
The fact that Men find this living being absolutely attractive and desirable is a marvel of God’s genetic programming, not to mention an unassailable vindication of Duggan’s Theory of Form versus Function in a Meta-Universe. (This should not be confused with Big Al’s Conundrum, which relates that any woman to whom you are sexually fascinated immediately becomes a lesbian. whew!). In reality, female composition borders on the bizarre, some of the most sought after parts being located in places so illogical that they could have been conceived only by a hastily assembled committee in the heavens (with several dissenting members of course).
Other body parts are of such an abstruse nature that they are understood only by specialist doctors with an unseemly clinical interest in mucous membranes. Take the G-spot for instance. Most experts agree or rather everyone knows there is no such thing called a real G-Spot. Show me one verifiable G-Spot in a woman and I’ll show you my flickr collection of my recent extraterrestrial trip to Mars aboard a flying saucer!
And yet many men (yes, many men) still spend countless hours searching for the damn thing, their vain expeditions further compounded by reckless women’s (and men’s) magazines and innumerable sex-related Web sites that perpetuate the G-Spot myth by publishing fake accounts of moist treasure hunts, complete with intimate details and illustrative maps of the female genitalia. As a result, scores of men continue in their elusive G-Spot searches while women continue remaining splendidly and persuasively mysterious, their innermost desires and weird compulsions hardly understood, their bodies a loaded and largely unexploited source of mystical myths and carnal legends.
Daily work life, love, relationships, peer pressure and inter-personal hiccups make unjust demands on many men, and sometimes they lose direction. Even if men are not trapped by stereotyping or male bashing (i.e. men are lusty, men have a perennial sex drive, women are more interested in intimacy and love than sex alone, etcetera), men become upset and distressed because most women transmit perplexing and ambiguous signals.
“Yes” may indeed indicate a woman's consent, but when men stray into the “Yes but not now” or “Yes also means No” territory, the issue becomes downright cloudy or utterly risky. Ergo, they're obliged to wait until the message from her is so loud and clear that it’s a wonder the neighbours don’t complain and even then most men misinterpret the actual contents.
I have this somewhat confrontational theory. Rather than being besieged by their potent sex drive, most men initiate sex because they see it as the best way, sometimes the only way to express their love and feelings. Yet many men feel it’s something of an anti-climax, as if sex isn’t really sex unless it’ s accompanied by energetic thrusting, a munificent exchange of body fluids and at least one or two gloriously climactic orgasms.
What most men sometimes fail to realize is that almost all women have the amazing ability to enjoy closeness without actual penetration or simply put, intimacy without the sex. Loving words, soft caresses, romantic scents, dark chocolates, mellow music, verbal fantasies, etc – all these alone can arouse greatly sexual feelings in a women without necessitating the wham-bam,ooh-aah thing. Men ignore this hard truth at their own peril as a sensually aroused woman will sooner or later will herself make the first move. Perhaps, this would work if only men could wait a little longer and women could get over with their touch-me/touch-me-not moods faster. And now, only if they could ever agree...
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