The problem with Luke is that ‘everything Mike is not’ extends to the bedroom as well. First, you have to beg him to go down on you and when he does, he half heartedly kisses you and does some strange tongue action for all of 3 minutes before he comes up looking expectantly at you like a dog that thinks he deserves a treat for performing a neat trick. You push him back down there and encourage him to give it another go but his solution to being led to the river is turning his body around and placing his groin in your face in a weak attempt at position 69. Hell no. I’m all for reciprocation but if you are in effect not doing anything for me, why should I blow you and destroy any chance of an actual orgasm by turning you on to the point where it might all end here, in my face?
“I want you now,” I say instead.
Happy that he has been let off the hook, he eagerly does another 90 degrees angle, assumes the position and embarks on a 2-minute (feels like less) session of the dodgiest coupling ever and then… it’s over. That’s it? Seriously? I’m mulling over what I did in my childhood that was so bad to deserve this (because karma always catches up with you) when he turns to me and actually has the audacity to ask: “Did you come?”
You’ve got to be kidding me! Guys, here’s a clue. If you have to ask a woman if she climaxed, she definitely did NOT. That’s all. It’s not rocket science. You don’t need to be Inspector Clouseau, solving a great mystery. There’s nothing ‘hidden’ about an orgasm. The signs are all there. You’d have to be blind. Or deaf. If you can’t see/feel any signs that’s because it didn’t happen. And when you ask us if we did, well, sorry but we freaking lie. We lie because we don’t want to hurt your feelings. We lie because we have been taught the male ego cannot withstand a slight of any kind. We lie because we don’t want you to try again. We lie because we do. We lie because we are with you for the wrong reasons. We lie because we are with you for the right reasons. We lie because we can. Unlike men, there is no physical evidence in terms of bodily fluids… Unless you’re like our squirting friends in Rwanda and the like, who in some bizarre form of female ejaculation, expel a considerable amount of fluid – Not to be confused with urine – from the vulva or vagina. When I say considerable, I mean considerable. Highly sexed women can produce litres of the stuff. Enough to soak a mattress or in some cases flood a room. Trust me, I’ve seen it. It looked like water coming out of a hosepipe. Call it a G-spot orgasm or whatever but it happens to some women. Don’t get embarrassed if this ever happens to you. Like I said, it’s not urine. Researchers say the liquid may be the secretion of Skene’s glands. These are tiny structures, which lie around the female urethra. It is said to contain two sugars: glucose and fructose. Point this out if a guy thinks you’ve just urinated on him. Let him taste it. Should be sweet. Besides, if he can make you squirt and it happens to such few women, it’s a tribute to his virility, is it not? I envy you right now. I like my orgasms just fine but today I’d rather soak the room than lie here totally unfulfilled. My train of thought is broken as I lie to him.
“Yes baby, I came 3 times. It was awesome.”