I appreciate nothing more than an enthusiastic, attentive lover who cares about my pleasure just as much as (or even more than) his own. I would trade a skilled expert who is bored and does his part as a chore, for someone with less skill but more enthusiasm to make me come.
There are tons of opinions and articles about the orgasm gap, why it is existing, what sustains it and how to close it. I fully agree with most of it; I agree that it starts with sexEd, it blooms in entitlement and it feeds off ignorance. I also think it’s a result of deeply ingrained patriarchal values that have no place in a healthy sex life.
I believe that women are entitled to their pleasure just as much as men, not more and not less. We are different but we are equal; and we deserve to orgasm and enjoy sex, be it solo or coupled or whatever the setup might be.
I think that communication and the will to understand each other are crucial; we need to understand our own bodies, accept our own desires, set and keep our own boundaries and by the means of communication we need to strive to do the same for our partners.
The non-verbal and verbal clues, the honest discussions and the unashamed opportunities to open up and make ourselves vulnerable will lead us to a better, more satisfying, more pleasurable sex life.
There are, though, some old habits that die hard, and some deeply ingrained limiting beliefs that will hinder our sincere discussions.
It’s disturbing that faking orgasms to satisfy a man’s sexual script is still, to this day, more common than you would believe. Studies tell us that 67 percent of women who have experienced penetrative sex (as in penis in vagina) have faked orgasms. The reasons are painfully familiar and predictable:
- not wanting to hurt his feelings,
- knowing he won’t listen,
- feeding his ego or
- simply wanting the sex to end.
Starting my sentence with #NotAllMen will not alter the fact that to a grand majority, a man’s sexual script starts with his arousal and ends with his pleasure. We have come a long way, and admittedly the gap is narrowing, as more women start to talk about it and demand it, as more men become aware of female pleasure, more of them do their best to get us there, and they are more willing to go for alternatives in case penetrative sex is not giving the woman her well-deserved pleasure. (Thank you, you know who you are!)
But no matter how you tweak the script if it’s still the same script. You can be attentive and caring, but if you still feel entitled, it’s still writing the same story about the same patriarchal values.
The guy I am seeing regularly, but not half as frequently as my or his libido would require, is a really attentive lover. We are casual, so I decided that no matter what happens, I will either get my own orgasm any way I have to, or I will tell him that it’s not happening.
I decided I am not going to fake it.
I used to do it, for one or the other reason mentioned above, but it never helped anyone of us.
If it was casual and I never saw him again, faking an orgasm was giving him an undeserved pat on the back. Meh.
If it was a strings of casual, it took away my opportunity to express my needs for the next time, or showing him how I really like it to be done. Duh.
Within my abusive relationship, it was for survival — as any blow on his fragile ego would have backfired at me. But still, I should have worked more for my orgasm and at least get my pleasure out of our intercourses. Sigh…
When we started dating and we first had sex, I didn’t need to fake anything. I has series of powerful orgasms, one after the other. We had consistently good, mutually pleasurable encounters. We tried everything we wanted, from deep throating through anal to squirting. I loved it. It was always good.
But then one night — the last time we saw each other, I couldn’t keep the promise I made.
We haven’t seen each other in a month and he was even more eager than usual. We were both tired and it was late, but we do have really good chemistry, so both of us were aroused and horny AF.
I didn’t need any stimulation, I was dripping wet in a minute, and he was just as ready to fuck me. This meant, we left out that part of the foreplay where my clit was supposed to be kissed and caressed. I didn’t mind, as I really wanted him inside me, badly. It’s been a month and no matter how much I appreciate my solo play sessions, I can really appreaciate a real cock — it’s the best.
So I had it.
He was fucking me in missionary position, turned me around, then back to missionary where he pinned my hands dow above my head — so the only stimulation my clit had was from his thrusting. And it wasn’t enough.
My pleasure felt like a chore, that I have to do, not something I want to.
He started to ask me way too soon:
“Are you coming?”
“Not yet, keep doing it.”
I asked for some lube and started to touch myself, but the thrusting kept getting me out of the rhythm and it was too distracting. It was just not enough, no matter how I touched myself, gently or rough, I felt I won’t get there; but I was okay with it.
He asked me again:
“Are you close?”
“Not yet, I’m working on it.”
I felt pressured to climax and it didn’t help, and I suddenly felt tired and out of it. My pleasure felt like a chore, that I have to do, not something I want to.
I told him I don’t think I can get there. But he should.
He took over rubbing my clit, but if I can’t do it — feeling where to and what pace, no one else can, trust me. It started to get uncomfortable, so I pushed his hand away gently and told him I’m too sensitive.
We changed positions once again and I gave it a final try, focusing and flexing my muscles, but I kept losing it, and I knew I would need half an hour to recover from a no-orgasm to start it again.
He kept asking me: “Are you coming?”
I told him that I won’t get there this time, but he shouldn’t worry. He should just enjoy it and cum whenever he’s ready.
He heard me and didn’t listen. He got me some more lube and started to rub me fervently, while pushing his cock into me.
It was almost 2 am, I was dead tired and massively frustrated, and I started to get sore too from the thrusting. I knew he would wake me up once during the night and fuck me once again in the morning before he leaves, so I didn’t want to get unable to walk for days from the sweet sore.
I took over and started to rub myself again, seeing that he’s watching me with hawk eyes. I started to breathe quicker, moan loader, arched my back, flexed my pelvic muscles and finally ‘came’.
He came shortly after me, collapsed on me and told me: I don’t want to come if you don’t. It’s for your pleasure that I am here.
He kissed me and we went to sleep.
Attentive and caring, enthusiastic too. My pleasure is just as important as his, it is a prerequisite that I come first.
But it wasn’t happening and it wasn’t right, and I was deeply frustrated. I didn’t want to fake an orgasm. I tried to tell him that it’s not happening. It wasn’t about not wanting to hurt him, but I desperately wanted it to be over, and after the nth try, I felt there was no other way.
He came here for my pleasure and linked his pleasure to mine. It was impossible to finish without him getting off, so he had to make me come.
This is good, right?
This is how you are supposed to close the orgasm gap.
But! No matter how well he think he knows my body and respects and prioritises my pleasure — he is not entitled to my pleasure. It is mine, and I should have the right to say no to it.
The orgasm gap is not widening by me saying ‘no’ to my own pleasure.
I enjoyed the sex with him, even without the orgasm — because contrary to popular belief, no matter how important an orgasm is, it is possible to have pleasurable sex without it too.
What I didn’t enjoy is that I was cornered into faking it — or at least at that point I couldn’t see any other way to get out of the situation
I could have told him to stop. But his pleasure was close and I care about him enough that he should have it even without me.
I could have told him to change the pace and rub my clit differently, but I knew it was not going to happen — when I couldn’t get me there either.
I could have told him I won’t come, and he should. Oh wait. I told him. He ignored it.
I should have repeated it. Oh wait. I did.
He felt entitled to my orgasm, which is mine to feel not him to enforce. I can decide about it, I can ask for it or let it go.
His sexual script is almost perfect, except that it ends with him having an orgasm, and as an intermezzo I need to have one too.
He should have heard me. He should have accepted what I repeatedly said. He should have respected my decision about not wanting an orgasm. It had nothing to do with his skill, his enthusiasm, his masculinity. It was all about my body, my fatigue and the fact that it is possible to lose an orgasm midway.
He woke me up later and fucked me again. Made me come and made me squirt too. Then we kissed and cuddled and it was nice. We had a really good time.
He’s a good guy. Enthusiastic. Caring. Attentive. I am not writing him off. I’ll get over it and I will try to communicate better next time. But my frustration is valid.
He is not entitled to my orgasm. I am the only one who is. And if I say to let it go, he should. Even if it fucks up his script. Because the script is wrong by default.
It’s an advanced, more enlightened version but it’s still a remnant of patriarchy. And I don’t want patriarchy in my bedroom.
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