10 Things Men Wish Women Knew About Sex

I have always been committed to traumatising the prudes amongst us.

I belong to a school of thought that ties a lot to the beautiful art (and act) of sex. We think it is the answer to a lot of things.

Idiots!

Well, whilst conducting routine research, I stumbled upon this post. “Why hoard these nuggets of wisdom?” I thought to myself.
And benevolently and magnanimously decided to share (and maybe traumatise) you with them.

As always, #caveatuploadingdisclaimerinsertedhere# the following nuggets are for the consumption of readers aged eighteen (18) and above. And though I didn’t write… Blah, blah blah…

“Freud called female sexuality “the dark continent”; if that’s true, male sexuality could qualify as the dark planet. But when it comes to sex, guys are simple, right? Not true. The bedroom is one of the great stages of male performance, and as such, what you see and hear is typically the role, not the reality. It’s no wonder, in trying to please the actor, a woman loses sight of a guy’s true identity. Here are 10 “unmasking” facts you may want to know:

1. We respond to praise.
It’s believed that men are so consumed by our libido that we have no self-consciousness surrounding sex. But men are no different from women when it comes to compliments as catalysts for sexual confidence. This praise can be delivered before reaching the bedroom (give us the once-over and tell us how buff we look), and after (give us the once-over and tell us how buff we look naked). Along those lines, men worry about the size of their guts (and other measurable organs), their hair (or lack thereof) and other attributes. Try to be extra affirming about those sensitivities.

2. We fear intimacy…
…but not for the reason you think! Studies have shown that boys are more affectionate, even more expressive, than girls until they reach school age. At that time, social repression begins — of words, thoughts, feelings — and our desire for human connection goes underground. So taboo is this desire for intimacy that its possibility can terrify men — not because it’s smothering, but because we realize how desperate we are for it. What’s a woman to do? First, understand that your guy’s hasty retreat post-sex may be about his own shock at how much he craves a connection with you (and how much he’s denied it in life). Then, retreat a little yourself. This gives him time to see that his boyhood habits are, in fact, perfectly manly.

3. We appreciate sex for sex’s sake.
Having said that about intimacy, sometimes a little “throw-me-down sex” is the right medicine. According to Joe Kort, PhD, a psychotherapist and sexologist, “Men want their wives to enjoy raw sex, not just endure it or take it personally. For men, it’s not about dominating a woman, but ravishing her.” On occasion, try letting him ravish you.

4. We are not just our…
The penis gets all the press, but men have “many erogenous zones,” says psychologist Melodie Schaefer, PsyD. “Men tend not to correct women because they’re afraid women will shut down and not touch them at all. But there are many places a woman should touch.” Like the chest, the inner thighs and face. Two other key areas: Gently gripping a man’s testicles can be a real turn-on, as it blends control with release. Also, stimulating the perineum, the area between the scrotum and anus, will heighten pleasure during oral sex.

5. We encourage fantasies.
“Men want to share their fantasies but worry their wives will shame or judge them,” says Dr. Kort. Dr. Schaefer also reports that men wish women would reveal theirs. Want to open yourself to these possibilities? Try making a game of it. First, and most important, promise not to judge the other; then, privately write out scenarios that have tantalized you and place them in a box. When you are next intimate, pull one out. If you’re both comfortable, give it a shot. If not, Dr. Kort recommends asking the author a key question: What about this fantasy do you like? Sometimes, its themes can be addressed in different, more comfortable scenarios.

6. We like it when you talk.
Talking during sex stimulates more than our ears. What kind of talk? Dirty, praising and instructive are great starts. As amusing as it may sound, a woman’s words can make a guy feel as potent and virile as a Roman gladiator, even if he’s a suburban banker.

7. We need your honesty. 
Sex can solve the stresses of a relationship, but it’s often where the stresses show up. If we complain about a lack of sex (or that you only do certain things on our birthday), we may be overlooking serious issues that underpin such withholding. We need you to enlighten us. The male ego is often tied to sex, so it’s easy for us to dismiss bedroom problems as female disinterest rather than issues we have a part in. Avoiding these problems, however, only perpetuates your feeling unseen and our frustration.

8. We enjoy the dance.
Men like a good quest; unfortunately, these days, there are so few. But romance earns that distinction. Allow us to court you; make us deserve your desire. Dr. Kort makes an additional point: “Emotional intimacy is about closeness, but sustaining sexual desire demands a certain amount of distance.” How do couples strike this tricky balance? By allowing each partner to have what he calls “separate sexuality”: a sexual life that doesn’t include, but doesn’t betray, the other. “For him, that might mean allowing his wife to use toys or letting other men look at her; for her, it might be permitting him to watch pornography in order to experience a fantasy.” Such indulgences help maintain the balance of desire and devotion for both parties.

9. We can explain pornography.
Finding a spouse using pornography is a top reason couples seek counsel, says Dr. Kort, but it shouldn’t be overreacted to or pathologized. A few things to clear up: 1. Sex addicts represent only 4 percent of the population, so it’s unlikely your partner is one. 2. Because childhood experiences influence sexuality as an adult, people are very idiosyncratic about what turns them on. In other words, says Dr. Kort, “no woman can, nor should she, be everything to a man.” Still, the question remains: How does a woman not take pornography personally? First, determine if your mate is compulsive, or can only have sex, with pornography. If so, you may want to seek counseling. If not, Dr. Kort recommends taking the secrecy out of pornography by discussing it. Use the lens of “what about it turns him on versus what turns you off.” That way, a dialogue is created that allows for honesty, dignity and closeness.

10. We always need it, but not for the reason you think.
Men are accused of being sexually insatiable, but women should rethink this. “Men see sex as a celebration,” says Dr. Schaefer. “They wish women would take more of a ‘carpe diem’ approach to it. We move through life at the speed of sound, with multiplying challenges and pressures. It’s easy to allow demands on our time and energy to rob us of the joy, pleasure and opportunity that sex affords us. On the long list of priorities, it should not be on the bottom rung.” If that doesn’t make you want to “seize the day” (or something else), consider the health benefits: Orgasms release oxytocin, which has been called the “bonding hormone,” bringing couples closer together while it alleviates anxiety and stress, reduces blood pressure and promotes healing.”

Credits;
http://www.goodhousekeeping.com
Brendan Tapley.

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Kids Say (And Do) The Darndest Things

We were going to marry.

She had a kid. He was eighteen months old at the time.

Now, I don’t mean to discriminate, but back then single moms were a no-no. Ordinarily there was no way my family would ever accept her.

I could see it in their eyes when they first met her, the condemnation. Truth be told, in their eyes I could do better. She was never going to be good enough.

Then they met little Tommy.

The child was a cherub I swear.
If Cupid was to ever have a human face, Tommy was it.
I’m a father and a husband now, trust me, you want a kid EXACTLY like little Tommy.

The kid was smart.
Too smart for his age.
Everybody loved Tommy.
Everybody.
He was truly a bundle of joy.

Alicia was accepted only because of Tommy.

Clearly I loved him like he was mine. I loved his mum Alicia. My family loved Tommy; and so Alicia was “permitted”.

I’m from proud, pompous and wealthy aristocracy.
Please forgive my family.

Alicia…
Black beauty.

Dark, curvaceous goddess.

Sensuality and beauty marred only by her eyes.

Her eyes were full of hurt, guilt and bottled-up feelings.

But hey, I guess heartbreak with a kid as evidence of your “mistake” would do that to a person.

She was a banker. First Bank I think. Stable.
Mature.
A girl to take home to mama.

Me…
Rich. And a nice person I guess. At least that’s what I’m told.

My only excess? I always like to know what I’m getting involved in.
I hate surprises.

Hey! I’m human… Forgive me.

And so wedding plans… Hurray!
Groan… Not really.
Alicia was smiling more though…

And… Then the pastor of her church swung by one evening. I was at her place. He came by to talk about the upcoming wedding.

Tommy was being well, Tommy.
He was at the phase were he was hiding keys and jewellery.
Successfully climbing the most dangerously precarious items of furniture and fittings.
He would gurgle water and spit all day. Gurgle saliva and spit when we wouldn’t give him water… All day.
Remove his nappies for reasons he could not communicate…
Tommy was being, a kid.

He waddled into his mum’s room eventually, (presumably to hide in her closet) and so we hunkered down to
“talk shop”.

A couple of minutes into our talks, Tommy saunters back lugging something behind him. Sits on the rug in our midst and with a cry of glee thrusts it at the pastor.

The man of God screamed “blood of Jesus!” As he recoiled in shock.

Alicia’s face fell in abject humiliation and despair. Her delicate hands flying towards her endowed chest as if to stop her heart from exploding.

The meeting was cut short. I could feel her eyes on me the whole time. I could not meet her eyes.

We were going to get married.

But we did not.

No one broke it off. We just did nothing.

Neither of us have spoken about the incident till this day twenty years later.

You see, we had been lovers for three years prior to that day.

At full mast I measured a paltry four inches. Width, an average adults index finger.

She always said I was “the best”.

It was about thirteen feet long.

It was a shiny black, white flaky stains here and there.

It was about the width of a can of soda.

It was one big-ass rubber dildo.

Any way you chose to interpret the dildo, it did not look good for Alicia. Present company considered.

Jailbait

I could sense her.

Her eyes on my back. All over my body. I couldn’t see her, but I knew someone was very interested in me.

I’m forty. Married. And in the UK vacationing.
Alone.
And yes, I was wearing my wedding band.

She was beside me before I could turn. I turned just as she reached out to tap my shoulder.

We both froze… I don’t know what made her pause, but mine was because of a few reasons:-

Yes she was as beautiful as they come.
Yes she was curvaceous and yummy.
Yes she was high or tipsy or both…
But most striking was her youth. She was all of sixteen. And looked eighteen. As a retired connoisseur, I could perceive the right hormones oozing off her sultry form.

At that moment, I started to hear my bruv’s voice of caution,

“Dude, out here, the sort of women you like, are jailbait! They age differently here.”

And here she was. Smiling seductively at me and intent on whispering everything in my ear… Did her cleavage have to be so… there?! Sigh!!

“I’m too old for you.” I ventured directly.

She sidled closer with a broader smile.

“I’m bad news. The sort your mummy warned you about.”

She practically gasped in arousal, warm unclad body parts glued to me.

It dawned on me at that point that anything I said next would unleash the sexual tsunami brewing within the young teen.
Whatever she had been smoking, snorting, eating, anally-absorbing, shooting-up or drinking was good stuff. She was in a good place.

“I’m not high.” She quipped,

And from her voice It occurred to me then that she wasn’t. This was a proper problem now!

“I think you’re a right legend. And I want you.”

Right!
Hmmm…

I immediately sat up straight and extended my hand,
“Bond… James Bond… The negro version.”

She squealed in good humour and the brunette bombshell was suddenly in my arms. I swear I didn’t hug her back.
As I (grudgingly) extracted my married self from her surprisingly ‘octopusian grips’ she began peppering available portions of my face with kisses.

“Wahala dey o!” I lamented as my people are wont to.

Long story short, I didn’t want witnesses. So I suggested we take a walk.
She blew kisses at a bevy of equally hot and giggly friends, who all either snarled, batted eyelids, or waved at me on our way out of the pub.

Long story shorter still, there’s nothing quite like the crisp chill on a cold winter night to quell ardour.
And nothing quite like fresh air to clear the senses and leave you room to make proper decisions.

I returned her back to The Artillery Arms thirty minutes later. In good health, no longer in lust, though I suspect, now in love.
Teenagers!
Sigh!!

We had exchanged BB pins and email addresses. Yeah, I’m hybrid old school like that.

May not seem like much, but I was impressed by me.
I can be nice; I am not necessarily nice.