I haven't been with an unconscionable amount of lovers.
But I've known enough to know whose rubbish.
Men.
Are.
LAZY.
I blame myself, in part.
It's all become too easy for them.
The poor hunters are bored senseless.
And to satiate their stirring they start their counter each night they go out:
Will I be able to get another one this night?
You see it's not that they aren't capable of great sex they just don't care about it.
For men it's all about the quantity.
Quality is a word they've never thought to even spell.
Now quantity sex is fine.
Lots of new partners has its appeal.
There is a thrill in the unknown, the unexpected, not knowing what may or may not happen, being impulsive, giving in to your desires the second they pulsate through your body.
Instant gratification.
There's just one problem:
First time sex is never GREAT sex.
Oh sure, it's fun.
It's SEX.
But you don't know each other yet, as partners.
You haven't learned yet what really turns them on, which positions they like & despise, you may not even know their middle name.
Shame on you.
So maybe you'll dial them up again and even sleep together a second time.
And second time sex IS better than the first.
But it's still not great.
And even if you think it's great, it's not as great as it could be.
Because you both still haven't learned.
How could you?
Learning your partner takes time.
And this is the problem right here:
Men are not interested in giving you their time.
They will give you their body, give you their bravado, they'll even happily give you their money, in shot after shot, if they think it will help their count tracker to increase.
But once they've raised their number that's where they stop.
Where are the great lovers?
I'm not looking for a boyfriend.
I'm not looking for a husband.
I'm looking for a lover.
A real lover.
Shouldn't that be what every man wants?
To be so insanely satisfying that every woman who crosses their sheets uses them as the compass for what it means to have great sex?
Shouldn't THAT be what makes men feel like men?
So the next date I want to sleep with I'm just going to say, Sure. Let's fuck tonight. And then I will assume since, I'm sure your experience speaks to this, that we may, at most, have sex another 2-3 times, mediocre at best, because you have no interest in getting to know me as a partner and what really turns me on, you just want to feel like a man & say you scored tonight. Your place then?
I blame Tinder, in part, for turning men into compulsive addicts, searching greedily for more, any, no specifics, no requirements, just someone else. Anyone, anywhere else. Their focus on the Now lasts 45 minutes.
If you're lucky.
The horrifying part of the app is that it shows right on your profile when you were last on.
So you can see that the guy you hooked up with last week, was on 20 minutes ago.
And you thought the reason he hadn't texted you back for the past few hours was that he was busy with work.
It's a fucking joke.
My real frustration is that I thought I'd found one, a lover, that is.
Someone who had the potential to become great sex.
He made me laugh.
He was sweet.
But he lacked time.
I wasn't worth his time.
One day a week.
That's all I really even need, if I'm honest.
Sure, more could be swell, but too much time turns into an obsession.
Have a life.
Be busy.
But don't put the fantasy before the real woman in your bed.
I've been cast in the role of the Other Woman plenty of times.
But at least that was opposite another warm body.
Not an endless cyber void full of mostly cancelled dates & minimal sparks.
To be given the fuzzy end of the lollipop because boys would rather gain notches than the skills to satisfy any of us is repellant.
I cannot bear to get stuck with another man child.
Where are the real men, the real men who know what it is to be a great lover?
I'd do him straight away.
And twice in the morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment