Come one, come all, the whole world is waiting
[Note: I'm back from my fabulous and tiring two-week vacation through the American southwest. I'm now resuming regular postings, though I'm going to let the remaining cached posts I'd left as a going away present appear on schedule. --fl]
Here's another belated Non-salacious Saturday post. This one's about fetishes, ancient Pueblo ruins, bad arithmetic, and women's orgasms.
There was once was a major civilization in the American southwest, most often referred to as the Ancient Pueblan or Anasazi culture. Population estimates vary but there may have been as many as two million of them at their peak. In 1250 AD they appear to have all abandoned their dwellings and gone... somewhere. Where, exactly, isn't clear and, though fascinating, isn't relevant to this post anyway.
Actually, this post is as much or more about Wegg's Vagina Bra post as it is about ancient Pueblan culture, and it's even more about women's orgasms.
Wegg says, in reference to her partner's newfound obsession with tit fucking
it started out he wanted, out of the blue, to come on my tits. fair enough, i said, and he got up on top of me and i took hold of his cock and brought him to orgasm. his spoof spattered out onto my dusky vale, and we congratulated ourselves on a job well done.
next nookie time, same request.
well, ok, i agreed. would you like to eat me out first?
he could see no real need for that, but he half-heartedly agreed. i came, eventually, and he mounted up, while i was still twitching, and slapped his cock between my tits. i held him next to my warm skin, and before too long his warm sperm was an untidy splorch on my chest.
again, a job well done.
next nookie time, puss was in serious need of some internal massage, but this was not to be. callan again aksks to come on my tits. i aksk him if he's sure he'd rather not come inside of me, and waggled my tail in as alluring a way as you can when someone is sitting on your tummy, waiting to fuck your tits.
he was having none of it.
so, again, we did the titfuck thing.
I'll get back to that in a minute but now I want to talk about arithmetic. (Yes, there's a method to my madness.)
Another aside here. I'm terrible at arithmetic. When I read that there might have been two million ancient Pueblans I thought, wow, that's at least two million instances of intercourse, which means at least two million orgasms. One act of intercourse times two people times two million equals... oops, that should be four million orgasms, shouldn't it? Well, it should but...
Let's take a look at the important part of Wegg's post again.
well, ok, i agreed. would you like to eat me out first?
he could see no real need for that, but he half-heartedly agreed. i came, eventually, and he mounted up...
WTF?
As a libertine prude I prefer an expansive definition of sex that is not limited to intercourse, so I think even ungraciously named acts like "tit fucking" count as sex. On the other hand, as a prudish libertine I'm shocked by the number of people who don't connect heterosexual sex and orgasms for women.
I know nothing about Ancient Pueblan sex practices, but assuming they match modern statistics my first snap answer about orgasms per act of intercourse -- though arithmetically incorrect -- wasn't that far off the mark. Various statistics suggest only about 15% of American women always have orgasms during intercourse, and only 35% say they frequently do. (Roughly 15% say they never have them under any circumstance, including masturbation.) In Western Civilization, anyway, the numbers vary from country to country but not by that much. If the numbers hold then the acts of intercourse accounting for those 2 million people can be matched to somewhere between 2.3 and 2.7 million orgasms. (The average length of intercourse is about seven minutes, labor and delivery usually takes between eight and sixteen hours, but we'll save *that* discussion for another Saturday.)
Now let's talk about fetishes for a minute. When I was in my promiscuous sexual prime I had a bona fide fetish for women's orgasms. I was obsessed with them. I fantasized about them. I pored through instruction manuals, technical papers, and porn looking for ways to make them happen. I couldn't have my own orgasm until I was convinced my partner had had one. I wasn't interested in forms of sex that didn't produce them. I lost interest in women who didn't have them, or at least who didn't have them with me. And I always did anything and everything I could to make sure my partners had them. Of course! That's what fetishes are all about, aren't they?
As fetishes go that's not at all the worst. But as fetishes go I also missed some wonderful opportunities, with some wonderful partners. Now that my fetish has waned to a simple preference I recognize that -- as with all true fetishes -- I denied my partners some wonderful opportunities as well.
I don't have orgasms every time I have sex, and I've also had what most people would say was bad sex, but the two scarcely correlate. Several of my best, most memorable, even marathon sexual experiences involved all day, all night sessions in which I never came. The point being that I now appreciate that excellent sex doesn't automatically equal orgasmic sex.
But even so.
I don't think it's my vestigial women's-orgasm fetish that makes me feel they ought to be a higher priority. As Lynn Gazis-Sax has pointed out repeatedly, the consequences of sex (vaginal penetrative sex, anyway) are sufficiently large and/or dire that the very least one could expect is that one's partner ought to make them a rather high priority.
And it's not like it's really that difficult. Yes, my fetish drove my curiosity but I was curious none the less. Yes, it's sometimes tedious at age 14 to read Masters & Johnson cover to cover. But it's also not necessary.
There's this trick called communication. "Do you like it like this?" is pretty basic. "Show me how you like it" is even better. "How can I help" never hurts. And "what would you like to do" works wonders.
There's another side of it, of course. If your male partner asks it's not because he's unromantic, it's because he's interested in you. If you need to prompt him it's not (necessarily) because he's a clod, it's because everybody's different, including his previous partners, and chances are extremely high none of his previous partners were telling him what they liked either.
This is a big cycle. A wretched one. And, if you ask me, a very easily broken one. There are roughly five billion people alive today. We can extrapolate with confidence that represents a minimum of five billion orgasms. Could it really be that difficult to push it closer, way closer, to ten since each of those five billion conceptions involved two people?
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Final note: I don't mean to be picking on Wegg. She's so not the only one it's (literally) not funny.
