InDefenseOfGettingOff's Blog

It is a seminal moment in every sex blogger’s life when she gets threatened with her first lawsuit. Unfortunately, I was not privy to the ancient proverb: “If you fuck a lawyer, he will fuck you.”

A week had passed since my last communication with Jake, and I never expected to hear from him again, until receiving a shocking e-mail from him, confirming that he had found my blog and threatening me with a lawsuit. Not for defamation or invasion of privacy, but for copyright infringement, because the e-mails of his that I posted were his intellectual property. Yes, he is that desperate. The form of his e-mail was as shocking as its content.

“I was going to leave this ridiculous, self-indulgent email alone because it really is not worth my time, but recent events have unfortunately forced me to address it.”

He opened up with this disclaimer of sorts. Then, he had the nerve to go on for two entire paragraphs responding to my e-mail, which I thought was too ridiculous and self-indulgent to warrant response. Oh, I get it, you want to distance yourself from the frivolity, while engaging in it and having the last word. Pathetic. At least I own what I write. He pretends he was forced to respond. Yes, I suppose my words are compelling.

“You manage to write an awful lot with out saying much of anything, and certainly nothing intelligent.”

My e-mail was intended to be explanatory, not profound. My intention certainly wasn’t to showcase my intelligence or impress him; I thought we were beyond that point. In fact, when I sent the initial e-mail explaining why I was upset with him, I made a point of not proofreading it, so it was authentic rather than composed. This seems to be the most appropriate form for e-mails with emotional import. I know I wrote many words in my last e-mail without saying anything at all. That is why, in my blog post, I refer to it as my “contentless e-mail.” No need to state the obvious in a derogatory way. The entire point of the e-mail was that I didn’t understand why he would be receptive to hearing from me and while I wanted to be given a chance to explain, I wasn’t not comfortable talking to him if he planned to continue talking to me as he had been. I thought I made it clear that I wouldn’t continue to engage him if he persisted in demeaning me and invalidating everything I said. His responding to me by saying how unintelligent and self-indulgent I am, only reaffirms why I refused to share much with him in the first place. He maintains conditions that would elicit any self-respecting woman to be abstinent in her communications with him. I took not hearing back from him to mean that he was not willing to communicate with me on my terms. So be it.

“Do you even know what you’re saying? Half the words you use, you clearly don’t understand… I could go on and on, but it’s an exercise in futility.”

He attempts to demonstrate my lack of intelligence by nitpicking at the words I use, incorrectly accusing me of misuse (he asks, sarcastically, whether I’ve ever looked “semantic” up), and taking portions of two sentences out of context, comparing them in such a manner as to introduce a logical inconsistency. You can understand why I stopped interacting with this guy. If his lecturing me on word usage is an exercise in futility, my responding to him would only dignify his pettiness. Like, really, we dated for two months and just broke up over hurt feelings and sexual incompatibilities and he is going to school me on the form of my writing? Is he for fucking serious?

Sure, sometimes I make mistakes. When I posted our e-mail correspondence, I realized that once I said “later” instead of “latter” and once I said “mislead” instead of “misled.” Similarly, once he said “in regards” instead of “in regard.” If I sent him back grammatical corrections, ignoring the content of what he said entirely, it would show that I was a trifling person who could not be taken seriously.  Furthermore, it would probably indicate that I had few legitimate points to make, given my exclusive focus on structural detail. I get that his plan was to invalidate everything I said by questioning my acuity in conveying my thoughts; all he did was undermine his own credibility.

“[Y]ou are the one who replied to my thoughtful email responding to your concerns with ‘ick.’ But of course, you were going to write a conciliatory email later. Assuming that were even true, it would only highlight your grotesque impulsiveness. Your lack of ability or desire to exercise even the smallest amounts of self-control and will-power is one of your most unattractive qualities.”

The object of his petty critique in this paragraph is timestamps, specifically how long you have to wait to respond to an e-mail before your response is considered valid. I don’t make this stuff up.

Nothing impulsive about the manner in which I sent my e-mails. But probably something impulsive or, at least cowardly, about dismissing a girl, who you’ve been dating for two months, based on one sentence, the content of which you obviously don’t understand because you haven’t given her a chance to explain.

Does he realize that his 5-point e-mail, no matter how well thought-out, has an offensive tone? It was only “thoughtful” in terms of being “characterized by careful reasoned thinking,” certainly not in terms of being “given to or chosen or made with heedful anticipation of the needs and wants of others” (Merriam-Webster Online).

“My email, on the other hand, was well thought out — I waited hours before sending it — and I can assure you, I meant every word of it.  I still feel the exact same way.”

When I sent him these e-mails, I was unaware that I was entering a “whose e-mail is better” pissing contest. In case you are as interested in trivial details as he is, I sent my one sentence e-mail a few hours after reading his 5-point e-mail and he sent his mean, dismissive e-mail a few hours after reading my one sentence e-mail. But you are not, so I should say that this time stamp issue is utter nonsense, especially considering that his previous complaint about me was that I often take what he says, “let it simmer… then explode.”

Obviously nothing I can do will please this guy. No amount of time I wait to before communicating with him will be the correct amount of time. As everything he says about me is negative, I take it with a grain of salt. If he actually believed these things about me, after dating me for two months, it would only highlight his poor judgment in spending so much time with me. Besides not believing what he accuses me of because it’s universally negative, I don’t believe it because most of his accusations are counter to what every body else thinks of me. When a biased individual claims outlandish things, it is not convincing. I would buy his “let it simmer” argument because it is inline with what people have said about me in the past, but never have I ever, in any relational context, been accused of “impulsivity,” nor of lacking “self-control” or “will-power.” Particularly absurd considering my summer of excessive sexual self-control. Most people believe I am overly measured and calculated, as is he; they wish I could be more spontaneous and less analytical.

He makes it seem as if these alleged qualities have consistently emerged in my interactions with him, just as if my letting his words simmer and assuming the worst interpretation was a regular occurrence. Where was he the past two months? Has he no perspective? Everything was going fine between us. Well, even. I assure you.

“None of this was worth emailing you over, except that now I find out, after all your indignance at my not ‘trusting’ you, that you are a fucking liar.”

Yes, again, I get it: I am not worth communicating with, yet you continue to communicate with me. Bitch: yes. Liar: no.

“I’ve known about [indefenseofgettingoff.com] for quite some time (it doesn’t take a genius to Google “Adam smallest ever”). I quickly tired of your oversensitive, oversexed, psychobabble, but started checking regularly after you issued the thinly veiled threat in your email that I would become blog fodder.”

A couple of things are strange about this. First of all, he makes it seem as if there were something secretive or covert about my blog, as if I withheld the URL from him. If I had a problem with him reading my blog, I wouldn’t have made him aware of its existence in the first place; I don’t tease people. In fact, I would have preferred that he asked me for the link directly, instead of snooping around for it. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that sometimes the most effective way to get what you want is to ask for it. I figured he never asked because he didn’t want to appear too interested, not because he would have rather not known. That notwithstanding, I wasn’t going to be forthcoming if he wasn’t.

The whole timeline issue is positively bizarre. His whole “don’t think I read this, I don’t, it’s garbage, but you’ve forced me to keep abreast” shtick is as transparent as his “these e-mails are not worth addressing, but I am going to dissect every word you use” shtick. When he insulted my blog, surely he didn’t know that I could tell exactly when he started reading it: while we were still dating. This makes me wonder: would he really keep dating me if he thought my blog were garbage? Either the answer is no, in which case he is misrepresenting his past assessment based on his current feelings, or the answer is yes, in which case he dates girls he does not respect; neither possibility bodes well for him. And calling a sex blog “oversexed,” is that even intended as an insult? It is practically tautologous. Self-evident, at least.

Lastly, it is strange that he refers to my insinuation that he is to become blog fodder as a “thinly veiled threat.” It was neither intended to be thinly veiled nor a threat. Is he narcissistic enough to think that my writing is for him? That I disclosed personal details about him as punishment? The purpose of my blog is two-fold: to archive my experiences and to entertain my friends. If I wanted to punish him, I would continue to harass him. All I wanted to do was expose the situation and be done with it. Make it impersonal. Disown it. I didn’t so much as critique him on my blog. Prior to this legal nonsense, all I did was publish our e-mail exchanges, word-for-word. He already read the e-mails (he wrote half of them, himself!), so there was nothing threatening beyond their initial existence and content (which he was half responsible for). Moving them to another forum only added levity to a train wreck, which was over, as far as I was concerned.

“Now, I’m sure you’ll recall that you promised me you were no longer writing your blog and that I had no cause to be concerned that I would ever become a subject. I guess you make exceptions when the story is really good? When the guy is an asshole? When you want to impress your friends? So much for being trustworthy.”

Ha ha, um, who does this guy think he is? I did not participate in a pinky swear or a pact, regarding his being the subject of my writing or otherwise. I like how he flatters himself by implying his story is really good. And, yes, when someone is an asshole that gives me moral license to be insensitive in return. I feel less morally accountable to him than to some stranger on the street.

“I’m going to try to make this as clear as possible: when you publish my emails in their entirety on you blog, you are violating federal Copyright Law. It doesn’t matter that you call me “Jake,” and it doesn’t matter that I sent the emails to you. My words are my intellectual property and they are protected by copyright law the instant I write them. Maybe you should check out Salinger v. Random House, Inc., 811 F.2d 90 (2d Cir. 1987) for bedtime reading. The internet is not your playground. There are rules. Our last and only communication will be an email from you, no later than Friday the 29th, notifying me that you have taken the entire “Fling Flung” series off of your blog. I don’t want things to have to go any further than that.”

And there you have it: a legal threat. Included with it some patronizing words about what the internet is for. Thanks, internet police. I’ll add your legal reading to my summer reading list and be sure to get back to you by the arbitrary date you’ve chosen to intimidate me with.

Half of the problem here seems to be that this guy has no idea how to argue with a woman. His “legal training” has totally clouded his reason. He uses convoluted phrases such as “no cause to be concerned” and belabors irrelevant issues in a failed attempt to undermine my credibility. He certainly knows how to antagonize and alienate someone, while diluting the purported point of his current communication.

Kitchen sinking: one of the cardinal sins in relationship communication and one of the first signs of contempt. Problems don’t get solved when you indiscriminately dump complaints about everything you dislike about a person and every way in which they’ve slighted you. Stick to problem-specific behavior if you want to ensure reception. All his e-mail amounted to was a laundry list of negative adjectives, with a threat and directive tagged on. As if he is some kind of authority figure with jurisdiction over me, derived from his dexterity in citing my shortcomings and a cliché legal precedent. When people go out of their way to make me feel inferior, I generally don’t turn to them for guidance.

The sad thing is, I think he assumed I would comply. Never have I ever been accused of being too agreeable.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

I responded with this scathing e-mail:

I knew that you found my blog before you told me. How? Google Analytics and WordPress give me information about how people locate my blog. When I posted the first 3 parts, I checked out my “site stats.” I discovered that within the past thirty days, but not the past week, someone had located my blog twice using the search term “adam smallest ever.” This past weekend I asked the only other person it could have plausibly been whether she searched using that term (she was with me two weekends ago when Adam visited). She denied, confirming my suspicion that it was you. As of today, the search term has moved from the “within the past thirty days” section to the “within the past ninety days” section, indicating that you found my blog approximately 31-34 days ago. I had initially assumed that you found it after we stopped talking. Now the reality sets in that you perused it before “the conversation” and maybe before that time we had great sex.

Speaking of issues of trust, I’m not sure why you wouldn’t have just asked me for the name of my blog, instead of doing detective work. It is also curious that you didn’t mention finding it, during “the conversation” or otherwise, given that your opinion of my blog seems to bear on the issues that were at hand. You kept seeing me/communicating with me after finding it, so I’m not I’m not convinced I believe your assessment of it.

Also concerning trust, I have no obligation/commitment of any kind to you. As you can see, plainly, from looking at the dates on my blog, before last week I had not written on it for over three months. This spans the entire time that we were seeing each other. I told you that I hadn’t blogged recently, which is factual. I also expressed that I didn’t intend to continue blogging or to blog about you. This was true given the circumstances; the circumstances between us have clearly changed. As has my orientation with respect to sex in general. I do not blog about partners I respect, in a way that would embarrass or hurt them. This applies to people like my ex boyfriend (whom I touch upon but only in a way that makes me look unfavorable) and friends (whom I largely omit). While you were still someone I naively respected, you were not blog material. I should mention, though, that you never expressed reservations about being blogged about. You didn’t express your orientation with respect to public disclosure either way. That is irrelevant, at this point, though. Life circumstances change and with them my guidelines for my behavior change (as somebody extremely rigid, it might be hard for you to understand this). If you read anything on my blog about my hooking up with people casually since we’ve dated, it is not because I mislead you about my activities or sexual aspirations while we were dating. Maybe I’m a bitch, but I’m not a liar (nor most of the other things you ascribe to me). At the time I had no idea how you were going to treat me and that you would vie to be just another penis. Silly me, I thought you were a person. I promised you nothing; I merely stated facts and conveyed expections. Thinking that you are somehow entitled to never be talked about badly is as naïve as thinking that people don’t change or that people are meant for one another.

I’m not going to get into some pissing contest about writing style, accuracy, or whose e-mails are better thought-out/less impulsive. I, too, stand by what I said (and for an exhaustive elaboration, you can read part 4 on my blog). My conciliatory e-mail would have in no way contradicted my one-sentence e-mail; it would not have been a confirmation of impulsivity, but hesitance. If you weren’t so rash as to toss me aside before allowing me to elaborate, you would already know this.

I’m not sure why you keep insulting me. This does nothing other than make you look bad. Makes me think, “Thank you for dumping me after only two months; I have escaped relatively unscathed!” Good thing your fear of rejection has prevented you from subjecting more than a few women to your spite. I don’t give a fuck what you think about my blog (nor my intelligence, vocabulary, coherence, self-regulation, or anything else you choose to insult). Why? Because you are not someone whose opinion I value or respect. Because I have legions of people (a select few whose opinions I care about) that hold my blog in high esteem. You can mock my appreciation for social approval all you want. Enjoy being a socially-awkward, curmudgeon who only has a few friends (whom he never sees), has only been with a few women, and doesn’t even talk to his own family. It must be nice being so “self-sufficient” and “unbeholden” to anybody.

Funny that you go out of your way to belittle my e-mail, assuring me that it is not worth your time, only to harp on it for two paragraphs (focusing on the most trivial details). People don’t usually continue to engage me when they claim that what I say is valueless and unintelligent, reducing it to self-indulgence. Very mature of you to dictate how our communication will unfold from now on (you’ve been dictating the communication for weeks), considering you are the one who engaged me with provocative prompts.

You know as well as I do that your e-mail isn’t about any legitimate legal claim. If it were, you wouldn’t go on and on about irrelevant issues. I get it: I’ve hurt/insulted you and this is the only power you think you have left. You chose to add intimidation to the belittlement that I apparently haven’t fallen for. There is nothing in this for you except the sadistic pleasure you derive from antagonizing me. You have no intent to publish your “intellectual property” yourself, nor could my postings in any way damage your reputation, considering they do not include defining characteristics beyond ubiquities such as your age.

I doubt you are going to launch a lawsuit over some petty lover’s squabble; it would ruin you personally and professionally. To think that you would risk having this exposed in the public eye is laughable, especially coming from a guy who allegedly hates being in the spotlight. I have close friends who are professional bloggers for very popular websites; you don’t want to deal with the potential exposure any more than I want to deal with the potential litigation.

That said, I will consult with lawyers about the intellectual property issue. There is no way in hell I am removing the series in its entirety, though, as only a small portion of series is your writing. You certainly have no legitimate grounds for a defamation/invasion of privacy suit (at least, the precedents are not in your favor), so I have no worries about my material. My biggest concern is what a jerk I managed to entangle myself with.

I think you are a little bitch who has seldom dealt with rejection and doesn’t know how to handle it beyond lashing out. I will no longer respond to your e-mails, except as they directly pertain to legal matters. I can’t believe it has come to this. You truly are the biggest asshole I have ever fucked; past sexual partners have read my blog and, thus far, none has ever been a big enough pussy to threaten me. This behavior is infantile; it would be like my posting something embarrassing about you on your facebook page to avenge your dumping me. I’m not continuing to hurt you in any way; you are seeking out contact with me. Stop causing trouble for trouble’s sake. Stop trying to sabotage/interfere with my life. Get over it.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

My counter-threat must have scared him, because his tone suddenly and drastically changed:

“Look, we’ve both said a lot of insensitive, demeaning things to each other. I don’t agree with much of what you said in the previous email, and you probably don’t agree with much of what I say in mine. The reality is, we probably just don’t like each other very much.”

True, but the insensitive things I said were relevant to the topic. On discreet issues. Not global. The ways in which you’ve insulted me were unnecessary and uncalled for. Moreover, your criticism of me invalidated everything I said, making it as questionable as an unfalsifiable theory.

Nope, not liking you very much does not represent how I ever felt about you; before our extended internet discussion, I liked you very much, and in between then and the legal threat, the only word that could have described how I felt about you is “ambivalent.”

“I could continue the pissing match, but I think at this point, things have spiraled out of control. It really never should have gotten this bad and I think we are both somewhat to blame.”

Ever since I insinuated that I might not want to continue dating you, you’ve been cold, callous, and downright cruel. I’m not going to pretend that we are even close to equal in our culpability. You are approximately 90% to blame, and the legal threat tips it even further in your direction.

“I think I do have good reason to be surprised about my appearance on your blog. I did believe you and rely on you when you said that you were done writing, and that you wouldn’t write about me specifically. That being said, things do change and things have gotten more … interesting … between us since you said that.”

Nice that he’s conceded that I’m not a fucking liar. I’ll buy his explanation; it is plausible that someone who has only been involved with a few other women in his entire lifetime would be naïve as to how circumstances change between people. Maybe he doesn’t even understand the benefit of not burning bridges. This whole situation seems like it would have never happened with someone more experienced. After a while you learn that ends aren’t about “winning,” but minimizing damage.

“I want to let you know that I have kept our correspondence in virtual confidence, revealing only snippets of it to the closest of my friends. We are completely different in that regard, and I understand that the blog is an important outlet for you.”

Oh yes, I care so much what your absent friends think of me. To think of the embarrassment I would suffer from having people I have never met and will never meet know that I am hard to get off. How could I live with myself? I would feel so violated!

You know what: it would serve you well to share your life with more people, especially considering your relative lack of experience. When I have guy troubles, I consult many people, men included. It gives me perspective: something you sorely lack. Of course, from what you’ve told me about them, your friends are probably fairly homogenous; you might get more of a self-serving bias than most people do when they consult their friends.

I do like how he describes my blog as an “outlet.” I think of it more as a dumping ground.

“Furthermore, you have no idea how much I appreciate your concealing my name.”

Niccce ass kissing.

The purpose of my blog is not to fuck over men. Duh.

“It may seem illogical, but my position with regards to copyright law is sound, and I’ve consulted other attorneys about this.”

Never said you were wrong about copyright law; just that you are an asshole for making a personal matter into a legal one. You’ve consulted other attorneys about this? Oh, wow. As an attorney you must have access to boundless legal resources, while I must be destitute as just another Jewish girl who lives in New York City.

“I do regret that I threatened you about this. It was wrong, especially considering my legal training, but I feel very backed into a corner at this point.”

Ohh, that’s so sweet. Now that you realize you have no options, you have regrets. This is the first half apology I’ve ever received from you. And you still insist that you feel “backed into a corner,” implying that you are the victim.

“You’re right that I have no desire to bring anything like this ‘public’ — you know I’m a very private person.”

That’s right, bitch. GKF: Not a woman to be fucked with.

“I don’t want to say that it’s something I will definitely do, but it is an option that I might have to explore, unfortunately. I really, really don’t want it to come to that.”

Stop pretending you have no agency and that I have “forced” you into this precarious position. You got yourself there. And you have the option of dropping the issue and moving on like a normal person.

“I’m not asking you to take down your entire post. You are, of course, entitled to write about your experience, paraphrase me, and even use small portions of my emails in your blog and that’s perfectly okay.”

Gee, thanks for telling me what I am allowed to do. Incidentally, I am also allowed to fucking read, so I have a very good idea of my legal rights. It’s so thoughtful that you’ve partially retreated now that you know I am not a pushover and I will stand my ground. I told you on our third date that I am “difficult.” I don’t know whom you thought you were dealing with. If you want to tell me how to format my blog post so it is in compliance with federal copyright law, then surely you wouldn’t object to my correctly attributing your quotations. Oh, wait, this is about your whims, not legality. I almost forgot.

“That was the risk I ran, and I accept that.”

And you keep running the “risk” every time you send me these now infamous e-mails. This legal threat has done nothing but draw attention to you.

“But I think you cross a legal and moral line when you publish entire emails of mine. Especially considering who I am and my feelings about privacy. I feel like this is one of the worst things that can be done to me.”

Legal line: maybe. Moral line: nope. You obliterated that when you told me I was a child whom no one would ever take seriously. Your feelings? Wah, wah, wah. Stop being so dramatic. I didn’t even do anything to you. You are just embarrassed that your misbehavior has gone public. That you are a laughingstock, anonymous or not. That no one would ever take you seriously if they knew. Oh, the irony.

“We’re probably beyond the point of forgiveness or anything like that. I imagine neither of us expect it or need it.”

Forgiveness? Oh, I’m sorry, did I miss your apology? And no, I do not need it. Because I don’t give a fuck what you think of me. Because you have no relevance to my self-concept. Because I am not so vain as to indiscriminately seek social approval. Too little, too late.

“All I’m asking is that you modify your blog slightly. I don’t think this is too much to ask.”

Yes, it is too much to ask. But I want to dispose of you swiftly and entirely except for the paper trails. At this point, this is almost a moot point, though: The day I posted parts 1-3, after a three-month hiatus, I got 114 hits on my blog, and the day I posted part 4, I got 82 hits. Most days I only get 20ish hits, so I assume most of these readers subscribe to my RSS feed and already read my posts about you.

“It might be interfering with your life to some extent, but, for better or worse, our lives were loosely intertwined for a period of two months and I ask that you please do what you can not to interfere with mine.”

For worse, only. I got nothing out of the two months we spent together except for some good sex, which I’ve since been informed was not good. The only “life lesson” I learned was about federal copyright law, something that will hopefully never be relevant to me again and will in no way benefit my dating future. I cannot believe you’ve monopolized yet another month of my time with this nonsense. A one-month fall-out for a two-month quasi-relationship: absurd. The only thing I could possibly ever want from you is a hate fuck. Pretty sure you wouldn’t go for that.

“Thanks.”

You’re welcome; it was so super to do business with you. Thanks for giving me a real story to include on my relatively drama-free blog.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Isn’t it lovely that in the internet age we no longer have to send e-mails directly to people? He will read the conclusion to our quasi-relationship spectacular at the same time as you, readers.  I wrote this nearly a week ago and “still week the exact same way.” Ahahaha, smugness.

Dear Mr. Douche W. Bagg, J.D.,

Isn’t it convenient how the tone of your e-mails switched from threatening and patronizing to deferential and reasonable the second you wanted something from me—the second you realized I am not a pushover and will not blindly obey your domineering demands. I never claimed your position with regard to copyright law is illegitimate. Let’s be clear, though: This is about inconveniencing me to avenge me for inadvertently violating you, not about copyright infringement or exercising your rights. Unless this is actually about the principle of things, and you are some doctrinaire/moral crusader fighting to restore rights without utilitarian implications, in which case you are adolescent in your idealism instead of immature in your vindictiveness. As one of my friends sarcastically said, “If he was really worried about copyright issues, he would be hassling you about falsely attributing his works of art to some anonymous name. He should be demanding that you use his real name so he can reap the rewards of the journalistic goodwill that must be coming his way after producing such masterpiece emails, right?”

Any impact my blog has on you is imagined or self-imposed: You do not intend to profit from the material I published, no one you know will ever read my blog, and if they do, they won’t know the story is about you because there are no identifying details. Your insinuation that I interfered with your life by anonymously posting your e-mails is absurd; you sought out my blog yourself, without my permission. Then, in your own words, you “started checking regularly.” If my blog is interfering with your life, it is because you are fixated on it, not because the posts have any empirical effect on you. It isn’t as if I even directed you to my blog, drudging up details from the not-so past.

Ha ha, how precious: You think I care about your “feelings about privacy,” or your feelings, at all. You cannot appeal to me by referring to your feelings, concepts like forgiveness and morality, and definitely not by getting up on your high horse to tell me that you have kept our correspondence in “virtual confidence.” If you have, good for you; it is only because you have few friends and are not as comfortable with yourself as I am with myself; not because of any regard you have for my feelings or reputation. When you treat me as you did, you rescind your right to moral recourse. My writing about you has nothing to do with the fact that we are no longer seeing each other and everything to do with how you treated me. Perhaps after reading my blog you misguidedly think this is par for the course with Genie; it is not. I don’t want to call my blog a compendium of “worst of” experiences (some are positive experiences), but let’s just say that only remarkable stories make it; you turned yourself into a legend. What a fucking joke that you would mention the prospect of forgiveness. Such a concept surely isn’t applicable when one has not so much as apologized for what he’s done (other than for threatening me with legal action). I gave you ample opportunity to apologize over the past few weeks (and I was willing to accept an apology, if sincere, and move on); you chose to escalate things. Matters between us were most likely reparable before your threats and repeated hostility.

Maybe you thought you could intimidate me by invoking your “legal training,” including a citation in your e-mail, and prescribing how and when I am to respond to you. Maybe you thought you had already broken me down with your continual references to my intellectual deficits. Fortunately, as your contentions have become less and less credible and I no longer have personal stake in your opinion of me or that which I produce, I couldn’t care less in what capacity you derogate me; your mistreatment of me only serves to make you look foolish and desperate. Despite having no formal training, I am perfectly capable of conducting research on the internet, finding relevant documents, comprehending what I’ve read, and applying the concepts to my situation. As to avoid relying on your biased imperatives, dictating what I am allowed to post, over the past few days I have read numerous documents on the doctrine of fair use, as well as case law that is more applicable to my situation (because of its non-commercial nature) than the one case you sent me. I forwarded my analysis of the situation, according to the four tenets of fair use, to three lawyers, one of whom specializes in intellectual property.

All three agreed that once I alter the format of my postings slightly, to make my writing “transformative,” the fair use analysis will weigh heavily in my favor. All you will have on me is the right to first publication, but “The fact that a work is unpublished shall not itself bar a finding of fair use if such finding is made upon consideration of all the above factors.” 17 U.S.C.A. § 107 (OMG, I know how to read, too!) My use of your writing is non-commercial, my writing will constitute commentary/criticism and thus be considered “transformative,” your work is factual and uncreative (except for the one sentence about meeting a pornj unicorn), I will use no more of your work than is necessary for achieving my aim of commenting/criticizing (and I know there is no word limit, so don’t try to fuck with me), and, most importantly, your e-mails have no market value so I am not altering their potential market or value by posting them.

The deranged thing about your requesting that I remove your e-mails from my blog is that it actually behooves you to have them posted in their entirety in their intended context. That way they speak for themselves and their interpretation is not directed by my evaluation. If you really stand by what you say, you should have no problem letting your thoughts be known, whether or not they are attributed to you.

My threat of exposure was not an empty one. When I consulted my professional blogger friend about this situation, she confirmed, “That’s a [   ] article waiting to happen. And I will pitch it.” [   ] loves stories about sex blogs and other sex scandals. Not only will you become a laughingstock if this goes public, but the second it is posted on a website with 4+ million views (far more than my blog), I will be offered a book deal. I’m sure you don’t want that to happen. Although, maybe then you will be given a legitimate reason to sue me. I will not go out of my way to fuck you over; you don’t deserve that much of my energy. But I will, by no means, protest if you are publicly humiliated. One consequence of your exposure (besides professional debasement) will be that no woman will ever go near you, knowing that you threatened a past lover with a lawsuit (and after only two months; normally it takes two years to build up that kind of animosity). This, in combination with the fact that you don’t talk to your family (and don’t respect your mother), will not bode well for you (except that the latter could allay fears over a potential, bitter custody battle).

Before I detailed my relatively favorable legal situation, one of my lawyer friends concluded: “This guy will NEVER sue you in federal court over this.  And if he did, I would happily take part in the three ring circus that would follow… It would just never get that far unless this guy was a complete maniac that wants to be known for this, which he is not.” Agreed. Highly doubtful that you would volunteer to go down in your alma mater’s hall o’ shame, as yet another distinguished grad-cum-internet celebrity. Forgetting the legal hassle that would ensue with minimal potential gain.

I altered my posts slightly because I never want to fucking hear from you again (unless you want a hate fuck). I will no longer accept request for your trifling favors. And I make no guarantees about keeping my posts in their current form.

You cannot appease me with one reasonable e-mail after a shit storm of petty nastiness. You will always be scum to me: the only man to stoop as low as you did, a self-righteous little prick, a pedant. And you said weren’t a douche for a lawyer!

Speaking of which, what kind of lawyer are you? You seem to have totally self-destructed over the past week. My lawyer mom raised me with two, companion concepts: 1) Don’t put anything in writing that could embarrass you later on, and 2) Get others to provide their verbal agreements in writing. Despite knowing that I displayed your e-mails and claiming to be vehemently opposed to such conduct, you have offered me progressively more embarrassing and outrageous material. Are you playing to the internet masses? Your last two e-mails were golden; I will not agree to keep them private. I owe you nothing—not a shred of human decency to match your malice. You should have thought about that before treating me as you did. It isn’t as if I didn’t give you ample opportunity to reform.

XOXO,

Genie

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

A special thanks goes out to my lawyer friends, their lawyer friends, and my blogger friends for their generous help and candor.

I will leave you with a quotation in response to the question “Is sex blogging consensual?“:

“I don’t think this is specific to sex blogging; frankly, I think it’s an issue dealt with whenever one chooses to write about their personal life (and, by extension, the other people in that life)… [P]lacing emphasis on the concept of consent specifically as related to sex blogging, and not other forms of personal blogging, simply reinforces the idea that sex is dirty, secret, and behavior worthy of stigma. Which, frankly, isn’t helpful (and, in my experience, is the exact sort of idea that most sex blogging attempts to break down, by normalizing sexuality)”

-Lux Alptraum, Posted on Jezebel on 06/10/10

Amen.

He never responded, but I put my thoughts on paper so I wasn’t stuck mulling over them indefinitely and exhaustively. If you asked me what two months amounted to, I could answer, veritably, “approximately 25 pages, sir.” The sections in this post (introduction and parts 1-5) correspond to those in his 5-point e-mail (refer to “Fling Flung: Part 2: The Beginning of the End“). His quotations, to which I am responding, are in blue.

The weird thing (besides the 2-month time span) is that we were both large portions of each other’s sexual histories. I was thinking about how weird it is that he is 28, has only hooked up with about 4 other girls, has only slept with 2-3 of those girls, and will probably hook up with very few others in his life; so I am, like, important to him. He will remember me, in detail, forever. But then I thought about the unusual time span (I have never dated someone for only two months since high school) and I realized that he is 1 of only 5 guys I’ve hooked up with 5 or more times. Although he isn’t important to me in the same way that I am to him (I won’t reference him endlessly as I draw conclusions about what sex is like), it is still weird that he somehow managed to beat out all those other guys, for whatever reason (mostly the happenstance of being in the right place at the right time in my life). Sad, almost, that 5+ times could be significant. Shows how unsustainable sex is.

Ahhh, another one bites the dust. Yet one more guy to lay to rest in my graveyard of sexual partners. Not my intent, but his choice.

I have this sneaking suspicion that he found my blog by using the search term “adam smallest ever” (quotes part of the search term). Guess that is my most recent token sexual story.

Foreword:

I’m outraged by your accusation that I would cease to hook up with you because I’m not mature enough to accept the fact that I’m not “so good” at the “only thing that defines [me].”

1) I don’t think I’m a great fuck; I don’t know why you would assume otherwise. I think that I’m a decent fuck and guys like fucking me, but I’m weak, inflexible, and have no endurance. The weakness and endurance definitely inhibit extended pleasure. Also, I’m not much of a boredom masturbator (more of a stress/energy-releasing masturbator) and have been masturbating infrequently over the past few months. While normally my dildo-fucking muscles are in tip-top shape, they are a little loose at the moment. Of course, these things all improve as you begin to fuck someone regularly (endurance is a little trickier). It’s actually a problem that people expect me to be especially good just because I’m especially knowledgeable.

2) I have a realistic picture of my sexual assets. I am a decent fuck, give amazing head, am decent with my hand, and am a bad but not awful kisser. I know that I give amazing head because guys have consistently told me, they have told their friends, and I am there when I blow them and can evaluate how they react physically. I also know that there is a subset of guys with whom I am not blowjob compatible. I know this because I am good and when you are good you can tell whether or not it is working. I can tell that with you it is not terrible but not great. It is something that needs to be worked on. Is this a blow (no pun intended) to my self-esteem? Sure, I like doing a good job in areas that are important to me and in which I normally excel. But this does not mean I am too immature to handle continuing to hook up with someone who doesn’t think I’m amazing, nor does it mean I’m willing to accept defeat. My last boyfriend and I were not blowjob compatible immediately, which hurt, but I stuck it out because sex is not the only thing that matters to me, believe it or not. And guess what: it became epic. Sometimes he shook like a girl when I blew him. He often told me I had outdone myself. It became the most intimate and most satisfying thing we did.

3) I can’t believe you would be so short sighted as to conclude the only reason I was upset about the sex was that I was concerned with my performance; you must think I am the world’s most narcissistic person. Yes, I wish my partners thought I was good, but I am concerned with things other than myself. Part of the enjoyment of sex is derived from pleasing others. If I took a friend to a concert and they had a bad time, I would feel bad; sex is a more heated example because it is intended to be a mutual experience where one’s pleasure is somewhat inextricable from that of her partner. If I have failed you sexually, I feel bad; I would strongly prefer that my partners enjoy themselves, especially if I have enjoyed myself with them. Since we have been having sex consistently for a month and a half and you apparently haven’t felt the same way as I have, your not verbalizing what you need constitutes a breach of trust. And it isn’t fair for you to mock me when you have failed to indicate your preferences. Being a “good” fuck and being “compatible” with someone are two separate dimensions; if you cannot tease them apart, this only shows how inexperienced you are. Think of it this way: You told me that you were upset when your girlfriend of three years broke up with you and told you that she had been unhappy for a year and a half. You felt like, thanks for wasting my year and a half. Although a less extreme case, I feel like I have been compromised for the last month and a half. It cheapens the experience.

To give a more lighthearted example, there was this guy I hooked up with years ago who became a default masturbatory image. I thought he was useless as a person and was embarrassed to still be getting off to him, but the cum scene was so beautiful that every once in a while when I was close to orgasming but couldn’t quite get there, his image popped into my head and instantly I was done. The two main components of the image were the cum sequence/aftermath and his penis, which I had remembered to be particularly curvy. Years later I hooked up with him again, it was physically revolting, and I realized his penis was ugly; it curved in the wrong direction! I felt taken advantage of, like thanks for wasting my masturbatory time, asshole! Not that the orgasms hadn’t been good, but the experience was cheapened. So, while I appreciate having had sexual experiences with you that I found to be enjoyable, I feel a little “icky” about them now. I don’t care if you find me “odd,” but ” demeaning is a strong claim. I have no desire to carry on with someone who thinks so little of me that he would interpret my actions as demeaning. Believe me, I have failed men sexually; this does not stop me from having sex.

4) Great, you must think sex is all that defines me. Not sure why you would waste two months on someone who you believe to be so one-dimensional. I don’t spend a lot of time defining myself sexually because sexuality is fluid and circumstantial. Men are more essentialist about sexuality than are women. I am fascinated by aspects of sexuality that have nothing to do with me, that do not in any way apply to me, so my agenda is clearly not as narcissistic or self-serving as self-definition. Furthermore, sex is only one of many things that is important to me (albeit the one I talk about most frequently, as it is a commonly endorsed topic of conversation); if sex took as much prominence as you believe, my life would be sad considering sex is unreliable and dependant on others. Although sex does not define me, it does distinguish me from other people, and I’ve grown to like and accept that. I am not as different from others as you might think, though. People like my blog because they see me as a relatable figure—not a sheer spectacle. You are right: I state the obvious; I say what everyone else thinks but isn’t willing to say. In a way, sex does not distinguish me from others because it makes me into a universal; it connects me rather than defines me.

5) I have a right to be upset when you are mean to me, and I don’t appreciate your belittling me for negatively receiving your insensitive criticism. It is normal to be upset when someone informs you the sex isn’t good, whether or not he believes it is failing because you “aren’t so good.” Your notifying me that you don’t think I’m good was beyond uncalled for. Maybe I’m not so good at sex (which I don’t agree with; I think we are not compatible); at least, I am not so mean. Making fun of people is infantile. If you wanted to dump me, you could have done it in a more diplomatic manner. “Incompatibility” and “cutting loses” was the angle I was going for when I considered whether the sexual issues would subsume/override the entire relationship.

Introduction:

“I think part of the problem here is that it seems you often take what I say, let it simmer, assume the worst possible interpretation, and then explode. I haven’t come close to addressing everything, but I think I’ve gotten most of it.”

I don’t think this is an accurate way to describe the situation. We saw each other a few days after having “the conversation,” at which point I didn’t know if I wanted to talk about it because you stated your issues in a way that made them appear as if they weren’t amenable to fixing, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to have the same shitty, hurtful, and unproductive conversation twice. I also didn’t know whether I could bring it up without crying, and even though you said you wanted me to act more vulnerable around you, I feel like you aren’t entitled to that if we aren’t really dating. When we met up, I was still considering bringing the topic up, but then the movie took so long that it was your bedtime before we got back to your place, at which point it made sense to have sex, not get into a protracted discussion. I also sort of wanted to assess what the sex was like post-conversation. Certainly more mechanical. Tolerable, though. You’re still cute when I’m upset with you. Then I intended to talk to you that weekend, one week after our initial conversation, but you were sick so that plan was foiled. Having a discussion about something, which needed processing, one and a half weeks later does not constitute letting something simmer and exploding. I also don’t think my interpretation was the worst possible interpretation. Trust me, what you proposed in your 5-point e-mail was much worse.

Part 1: Giving instructions does not make me a bad fuck

“There are a variety of reasons that the sex feels mechanical to me. The primary reason is that it comes with a verbal instruction manual: “Do me [x] way.” “Can you use your mouth now?” It’s all so matter-of-fact, like my mother is telling me to do my chores. Bottom line: it’s a turn-off. If you want me to “do” you in a certain way, position yourself in that way. If you want me to “use [my] mouth,” push my head down there. But I don’t want an instructor — it feels odd and demeaning to me. Maybe this is a better way of explaining the issue that makes it more amenable to fixing.”

Yes, the sex is matter-of-fact. As sex should be. My ability to state what I want sexually in a forward, direct, constructive, and precise manner is what most guys consider to be my greatest sexual asset (besides my ability to give amazing blowjobs, which you obviously do not appreciate). A one-night stand recently told me that I give great instructions (to which I asked: do I give more instructions than most girls?), and then told me that I really know what I want sexually which is a good thing. My last boyfriend told me how much he appreciated my instructions because most girls never let him in on what they wanted and he felt lost, whereas with me it was more exciting because he knew exactly what to do and could tell how much I was enjoying it. Sex takes work; it doesn’t just work. You told me that with every girl you’ve been with there has been a trial and error process. I do not want to be poked and prodded like I am a science experiment. I am not 16; sex like that would be regressive to me. I will not have sex become some guessing game. It took years for me to build up the confidence, sexual knowledge, and communication skills to express my sexual desires clearly, and I will not have some 28-year-old who has been with a few girls stifle me because he finds receiving verbal instructions to be “odd.”

When I was younger, I had to worry about directing guys out of fear of emasculating them, making them feel sexually inept, or letting on that I knew too much about myself. Gradually I began being more and more directive, and since then sex has gotten increasingly better for both me and the guys involved. It takes the performance pressure off them, I am more pleased physically, and the more sexually excited I am, the more sexually excited they are because: a) it is hot to see me aroused, b) the more aroused I am the more active of a participant I am, and c) from a mechanical perspective, the more aroused a girl is, the better she is able to grip/contract around the guy, and the tighter/more responsive a girl is, the more the guy can feel. It horrifies me that you find receiving instructions from a woman to be “demeaning.” Thanks for comparing sex with me to having your mom tell you to do chores. Your attitude about sex is extremely off-putting. Instead of seeing what I tell you as “communicative,” you see it as “instructive.” I also give positive feedback like “that’s perfect,” “that feels good,” and “keep doing that.” I like communicating during sex. It not only gets me what I want, but in ordinary circumstances, with people who are more experienced, it fosters connection.

Then there is the logistical impracticality of avoiding verbal instructions. With most acts, it would be impossible or cumbersome to demonstrate what I want physically. I think in words, so this is the most natural/least contrived way for me to express myself. I am not a mime, after all. How am I supposed to say (indicate) “faster” or “harder” or “gentler” in body language? If I attempted to demonstrate most things, they would result in awkward fumbling and miscommunication. When I try to push you away when I’m done being eaten out and want you to start fucking me again, I can’t tell whether you misread my instructions as flailing or whether you are trying to tease me a little longer before you put yourself back inside me.

Some things would simply not work if I made you do them. If I wanted you to rub my asshole and I put your hand there myself, it would suck out all the excitement and surprise of the initial touch; I might as well do it to myself, in that case. If you stuck a finger up my ass, mistakenly, thinking that was what I wanted, I would push your hand away or say “don’t do that,” and then my asshole, which wanted to be touched but not penetrated, would feel neglected. Similarly, if I wanted you to finger my ass, I would want to be able to say, “Can you spit on my finger then put it up my ass,” because asses are not self-lubricating, and people always forget about that. Fucking is still pretty fantastic, physical reality and all. I wish you could appreciate that.

You want me to shove your head between my legs? Sweet. Hot. I’m down. As my friend said, “He should have just said that!” It’s demented that you find my giving instructions to be demeaning, yet you want me to shove your head between my legs. Given that this is one case in which my specific intentions would have been apparent through physical demonstration, it should be obvious why I haven’t shoved your head between my legs: Doing that could be perceived as rapey, physically forceful. I understand that I am coming from the perspective of someone who usually has male genitalia in her mouth, and with penises it is different because having someone shove himself in one’s mouth would be physically brutal and disempowering (forgetting the different social implications). I’m not sure how I would feel about it if a girl was rough/forceful with me. I guess it has never really come up. I might be turned on. Now that I know what you want, I would be more than happy to do it. In general with something potentially aversive, even with a boyfriend, I would be inclined to ask each time if it was okay. For example, “Is it okay if I hump your face?” Not all guys like suffocating on pussy. Am I allowed to do anything I want to you physically and if you aren’t into it or comfortable with it, you will tell me to stop? Or does this only apply to things I want you to do to me? Is there a way to separate the two? Am I allowed to spank you, explore your asshole, etc? We haven’t yet approached the topic of boundaries. I was playing it safe.

Asking questions verbally might be less sexy, but does not seem unreasonable to me (and certainly not demeaning). You should understand that I ask for things using the method that I consider to be the least obtrusive/offensive. The most innocuous and matter-of-fact. So when I ask, “Can you use your mouth?” it is because I want to be polite and give you the option even if effectively I am dictating what I want done. In other words, you know what I want but you have veto power and get to decide exactly how you give it to me. And it isn’t like I give play-by-play instructions, just instructions upon transition or when I want something altered slightly (at particular instances, a little faster or a little deeper can make all the difference).

If this were a question of changing language, words that for whatever reason are a turn off to you, then of course I would be willing to compromise. If you need me to say, “Lick my pussy,” instead of “Use you mouth,” fine. I would say it, although maybe a little begrudgingly at first. Eventually I would find it less cringe-worthy and it would become another part of the routine. “Do me,” instead of “Fuck me,” I would have a little trouble with. I haven’t heard anyone other than you use that phrase, except jokingly, since like 5^th grade. (Well, there was that one LL Cool J song.) By junior high people had moved on to bigger and better words. I happen to be grossed out by the word “jizz.” “Cum” seems more neutral. My point is, I’m not totally fixed and inflexible sexually, and I realize that for whatever reason people have developed different sexual preferences and triggers. I’m not some crusty old whore who is too jaded to appreciate novelty, nuance, and individual differences. There is a big difference, though, between changing presentation/form and changing content. I have no problem altering instructions to make them more amenable/appealing to you; I want my partners to be happy and I have trouble enjoying sex knowing someone isn’t enjoying himself. But if you want me to cease giving instructions altogether, that simply isn’t going to happen; it would hinder my enjoying the mechanical aspect, which I consider to be the most base/foundational aspect. So, yes, in your words, if you want to keep fucking me, you’ll have to “get used to it.” To me, technical proficiency is not a turn off and I think it’s totally hot that you’ve only been with a few girls, yet you’re so good. And I really like the whole fucking a geeky/reserved guy thing. Some guys are exciting to be with because they are edgy, and some guys are exciting to be with because they are willing to explore. I’m too old for the former type, anyway, except on a super short-term basis. One of your features that attracted me immediately is that you are more conservative than I am but not uptight at all; you are not scandalized by my openness.

You don’t communicate with me and that isn’t fair. I have specifically requested, on multiple occasions, that I would like instructions. In general, I expect guys to be forthcoming and many have been with me. The issue is compounded with you because I find you especially hard to read sexually. You get pretty hard immediately, stay consistently hard throughout (including when you go down on me, which I find totally hot; most guys lose it at least a little), and don’t get much harder until about thirty seconds before you come. Your penis doesn’t really twitch and there is no precum. Other guys’ penises are more expressive and evidence more variation throughout each experience. That means that with you, verbal instructions would be particularly helpful, as there is no physiological feedback. One time you were being very vocal, but it was difficult for me to discern whether you were saying “ow” (i.e. “ouch) or “oh” (i.e., “ah”). Furthermore, I can tell that the blowjobs I’ve been giving you haven’t been amazing. I would like to fix this, not because I am totally conceited, but because I would like you to enjoy it both from a selfish perspective (playing with happy penises is fun for me) and from a altruistic perspective (I like my partners to be happy). You like it much gentler than most guys, which is a little confusing to me, because I can’t tell whether you want slower, softer, or both. These are distinct dimensions, which could easily and painlessly be distinguished with verbal instructions, one or two words. I’m also scared to exclusively use my hand on you. People almost never complain about my being too rough with my mouth, but sometimes I am told I am gripping too tightly. It would help if you moved my hand on you or even demonstrated on yourself (so I could get your rhythm). Guys often do this and it is always helpful. Your not communicating with me is especially irksome because you take so long. I’d rather you just tell me what you want so I can please you.

Speaking of mechanical issues, we’ve had a few. I suppose the dimensions of sex are motion, speed, and orientation. The motion is great, the cadence is highly atypical but I can “get used to it” and not in any pejorative sense of that phrase, but we have had some major issues with positions. You seem not to have any intuitive sense of what positions work, and I realize that you’ve gotten annoyed at my adjustments, but with positions even minor adjustments like lifting a leg up or leaning back make an enormous difference for the girl. Luckily, the only thing you suck at can be learned (this isn’t be the case for something like motion, which is more innate/physiological)–but not without instructions. This is one area in which you have to play around a little with each new partner; you can’t just learn it out of a book. A few specific tips, though. There are three things that are especially important for the girl that guys often forget (guys seem to focus on depth and speed): 1) angle/orientation of the vagina (where you hit the vagina matters, some positions make the girl tighter, other positions lend themselves to movement that makes the vagina contract), 2) accessibility to the clit (some positions block a girl from being able to touch herself during, and in some positions the girl needs both of her hands so it is easier for the guy to touch her instead), and 3) ability for both partners to move (sex is better if you are able to fuck back, and some of the positions you’ve put me in are very restrictive in that they give me limited range of movement or you don’t hold my legs when they are flailing so I have no leverage with which to propel myself; I’ve actually never had sex before where I’ve consistently done so little).

The first few times we had sex, I was in a lot of pain/very sore in one particular spot afterwards (the first time I could tell it was hurting during). Initially I thought it was a lube issue (part of it is because you don’t seem to understand that, as wet as I am, you need to spit on your dick pre-reentry), but it became apparent that mostly it was due to angle. So I got more involved in arranging myself/arranging you. You might think that I could give physical instructions. First of all, you are heavier than I am, so I can’t just rotate you around. Second, I’ve tried to give physical instructions and they’ve failed due to ambiguity (each motion can be interpreted as the starting motion of many actions). The one position that has consistently been a disaster is doggystyle. I don’t know why. Although that isn’t my position preference with a partner with whom I have coordinated sex, for me it is the default position. It is almost always enjoyed by both partners and it is easy to enact: It requires little energy expenditure, I could fuck like that when I’m half asleep, and usually I can orgasm like that easily. The first issue I was having is that you were leaning on top of me so you were parallel to me, instead of sitting up on your knees so you were perpendicular to me. This ruins the angle entirely (and also means your hands aren’t free for groping me). I tried to push you upright, but you either thought that I was pushing you away or that I was trying to switch positions so I was facing you. Awkward fumbling and miscommunication break the mood more than talking. After I verbally instructed you, it was bad in a different way; I sort of felt like I had to vomit. Since there is nothing special about your anatomy, I’m sure this is something we can work on. But it will take patience and time out of sex that won’t be quite so hot.

You do need instructions. Not you, specifically, but everyone. That is how people become good sexual partners, and just because you’ve been with other girls does not mean you know exactly what to do with me; everyone is different and I’m not going to always want it the same way every time. Of course, as people acclimate to each other and learn to communicate better physically, fewer verbal instructions are necessary unless something is added to the repertoire.

Some instructions are actually hot because they build anticipation, e.g., “Cum on me.”

“‘Affectionate’ has many connotations, one of which relates to intimacy. This is the connotation you’ve chosen to adopt, but it’s not the only one and certainly not the one I meant. I see affection as an analogue of warmth —  something that I thought was missing in our cold, technical sex because of the instructional aspect… I guess I didn’t think it was too much of a leap to infer.”

Yes, it is a huge cognitive leap from “affectionless” to “instructions.” First of all, you are forgetting the context in which you brought this up. You also told me that I am too emotionally guarded and that you’d like me to be more vulnerable before you agree to date me. Thus, it is no stretch of the imagination to conclude that “affection” is related to “feelings.” Also, I’m am constantly told by guys what a frigid bitch I am and all of my boyfriends have told me that they don’t think I “emote,” until a few months in when I get comfortable with them and start crying in front of them/expressing a richer range of emotions. Even then, guys tell me I am “hard to read” and know how to “put on a poker face.” You told me, even after a few dates, that you think I am hard to read. I know all of these things about me are essentially true, as this is the only consistent complaint I have gotten from guys; it still really hurts to hear. I’m sorry if I misinterpreted what you said about “affection.” You should understand, though, how I made my inference and why my interpretation would upset me. Second, it is a huge cognitive leap because “affectionless” and “instructions” are not inherently related. Even after your explaining that you meant “lack of warmth,” rather than “lack of intimacy,” I still don’t quite get the connection. Especially because, for me, “warmth” and “intimacy” are inextricably related.

Either you aren’t articulating the connection between emotional tone and instructions properly or it is a concept I don’t have in my lexicon. I’ve had warm, connected sexual interactions that have involved copious amounts of instructions/verbal communication and I’ve had cold, detached sexual interactions that were virtually silent. As I explained, for me more communication often makes me feel more connected/in sync. I’m guessing that the problem is, you are uncomfortable with the instructions/they “leave you cold,” so you shut down. This creates a general sense of detachment/distance. It is your reception of instructions, rather than anything inherent about the instructions, themselves.

Third, this is a huge cognitive leap not only because the lack of logical connection between the two concepts, but because this is an utter surprise to me. Considering the majority of my past partners have viewed the instructions as a positive aspect (the only ones who I could tell it annoyed were the ones who simply didn’t want to put the effort into pleasing me, which clearly wasn’t the case with you), it simply wouldn’t have occurred to me that that is what you were dissatisfied with. Also, quite frankly, I am shocked that someone who talks about how he wants an “assertive” woman (and someone who “challenges” him) would want something entirely different in bed.

I’m not trying to blame this on you or make it seem as if you are atypical. I acknowledge that something I am doing is bothering you; like anything else sexual, it’s a two way street and your reception is just as likely to be “odd” as is my behavior. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter whether there is anything strange about either of us; the bottom line is: we enjoy and expect different things. I thought I made it clear early on in our dating relationship that I like being sexually directive and I don’t enjoy sex at all in which I am expected to be submissive or passive. My preference is no better than your preference and I don’t judge you at all for wanting sex in which technical proficiency is not a focus. Preferences are all about compatibility and finding a partner who is amenable to your preferences if they pertain to aspects of your sexuality that are important to your experience. It is possible that we are simply sexually incompatible. This saddens me because I did sincerely enjoy having sex with you, minute blunders aside; I was generally comfortable with you; I thought we were equals and I thought you felt the same way, until I received your last few communications; and I did like you very much as a person. However, this happens to be a preference of mine that is integral to my enjoyment of sex, and I’m not willing to sacrifice it.

I should say that, in theory, I am turned on by the prospect of letting you have your way with me and fucking me like you want to. In fact, I got off to that the other night and it was fun. It isn’t as if the dynamic is what is unappealing to me. The reality is more bleak, though, because when I was getting off to it I got to be touched exactly as I wanted to be touched. Reticence would deny me the ability to be able to enjoy it mechanically. Which would be a shame because, in general, you have been doing a great job mechanically. Don’t want to ruin that.

I wish last weekend played out very differently than it did. Friday night I was out with my friends and thought I would end up a block or two from your place. I wanted to come over and tell you that the only instruction I was going to give you was to fuck me however you wanted. Fucking seems like the best way to work out sexual disputes, after all. And I felt kind of horrible after receiving your mean e-mail and wanted that fucked right out of me. But we didn’t end up near your place, I got sidetracked, and by the time I got home after 2am all I wanted to do was talk to you, tears and all. I might have been too drunk to cry, anyway. I woke up to your text message, equally brutal to and affirming of your e-mail.

Part 2: A lack of sexual confidence is a huge turn-off

“I have my insecurities, but generally, I don’t have any about sex. I have never felt I have disappointed a girl sexually, and I am, in large part, confident in my ability to share positive sexual experiences with girls. I’m also aware that there is a subset of girls that find me attractive, just as there is a subset that finds me neutral and repulsive, respectively. While I do often express “amazement” that you could find me exemplary in sex, it is almost always tongue-in-cheek.”

It is exhausting to hear your constant self-deprecating comments about sex. Tongue-in-cheek or not, it is tantamount to when a girl complains about her appearance. Are you fishing for compliments? Am I supposed to think that there is something wrong with me because I think you are really hot? I find it irritating that I have been very honest about your appeal to women, yet you continue to argue with me. Few people would be willing to tell you that your face is nothing special, that you are average looking, and that you don’t turn heads, but I did. So when I tell you that you have a better body than most, even if it isn’t everyone’s “type” because you are small, you should believe me. I have two problems with the way you view yourself/your prospects sexually.

The first is that you think it is an issue of “type”: If you aren’t someone’s “type” they will not be interested because you do not fit into the “male ideal.” Sure, the male ideal is a standard that maybe appeals to everyone on some level, because they’ve been raised with it, regardless of whether or not that is their personal preference. So, yes, I would fuck and have fucked people because they are objectively good looking even if they are not my preferred type, and I would not fuck someone who was not my type and didn’t fit into the male ideal (unless they were a friend and I liked them for non-physical reasons). Not everyone is as particular about “type” as I am, though. We both happen to be very particular people and it is fallacious to assume everyone is as particular as we are. Most people are less superficial, not more. While being the male ideal might make you a sure thing for everyone, not fitting into the male ideal isn’t as limiting as you think. Even as someone who has a strict physical type that is an automatic dealmaker on a physiological level, I’ve fucked a variety of people because there are non-physical qualities that also physiologically attract me to people.

My second issue is that you think I am so different from other girls sexually. True, my preferences are distinct and I am more inclined to have sex with people than other women, or else I have grown to be less of a snob about it. When I told you that you underestimate how horny women are, you said you don’t; you think women want sex just as badly as men do. I’m not sure exactly where the disconnect is, then. What you underestimate seems to be the willingness of women to have sex with people they aren’t specifically interested in just because you approached them at the right time. A large percentage of the guys I’ve slept with were essentially in the right place at the right time, whether it was because I was especially horny or just needed distraction/recreation. Of course, women have added social pressures and many women aren’t confident enough to go home with a guy if they are with friends who would judge them (another factor in terms of it needing to be the “right time.”) That notwithstanding, a lot of women are receptive to being approached casually and are willing to step outside of the parameters of their overarching preference. You should know this considering lots of guys do get laid, including ones who do not fit into the male prototype, despite the fact that people do have the tendency to prefer the male prototype or at least default to him.

I’m sure you know that your inability to get laid has to do with confidence, not looks. Maybe “insecure” wasn’t the correct term, because it sort of implies walking around with a chip on your shoulder. “Lack of confidence” seems more apt. One of my wise friends once told me that he was always scared to approach girls, because he felt like he was imposing on them, until he had the revelation: girls like sex, too! A confident person realizes that he has some chance, no matter who he is, because he is offering a girl a service that she desires, anyway. You just have to pitch yourself in the right way so a girl chooses you as the provider of the service. Sometimes all it takes is being the one who is confident enough to approach her.

You talked to me extensively about your fear of being rejected. This obviously indicates an extreme lack of confidence. No one likes rejection, but your fear of rejection is way out of line with the reality of the blow you would suffer (you have no experience to put it into perspective). Since you’ve never put yourself out there, you don’t know how short-lived rejection is and you’ve never had success to counterbalance the rejection (success is less short-lived, even if more infrequent for men) and to build your confidence. I guess I am irritated by your lack of sexual confidence because I think you are a catch. I was totally psyched the first time I saw you naked and was impressed by the sex, if only because it was hotter than I expected coming from someone who is otherwise so timid. It frustrates me when people hold themselves back/don’t live up to their potential. Clearly your not getting laid is not an issue of unworthiness. Too bad considering plenty of unworthy guys do have the confidence or the nerve to hassle girls.

I’m also peeved that you don’t sympathize with/are actively bitter about girls’ complaints about getting laid. It is your fault, your own fault, and nothing but your fucking fault that you don’t get laid. Just because you suck at getting laid doesn’t mean it is easy for other people. We just suck it up and put ourselves out there in spite of any fear (self-perpetuated or grounded in reality) of rejection or embarrassment. Really, I am no more attractive than you are. Sure, I get laid because I’m a girl, but disproportionately for my femaleness and attractiveness.

Furthermore, I’m saddened by the outcome of your not putting yourself out there, as explained in the conversation we had at that underground, mixology bar. I asked you if you found the right girl, if you’ve done enough things sexually so you think you could be satisfied just doing them with her, and you told me you weren’t satisfied yet because you hadn’t slept with enough types of women (and how could you have considering how few women you’ve been with). I’m not sure how I’d feel being with a guy who couldn’t be sexually sated and by no fault of my own.

I should say that I’m totally turned on by the thought of having a threesome with you. Normally this isn’t the case and I would never do that with someone I was actually interested in or any situation in which the relationships between the 3 partners was unequal (i.e., there was an imbalance amongst the three points). The thought of watching you engage in “just sex”–helping you engage in “just sex”–is positively hot. I can’t imagine being jealous. At least this early on. The one thing I have thought about, though, in regards to that is the only thing that really interests me about the prospect of hooking up with women is the prospect of touching them. I mean, having them touch me is fine and good and all but no different from a man. Not better. It is rare, though, that I get to touch a woman. Which poses a problem, because you are so good, as in, especially good; what woman would want me to touch her if having you touch her was an option? Only a lesbian.

“Yes, it is true that I will be exemplary at some things, middling at other things, and horrible at yet others. Considering the ‘sheer number’ of guys you’ve been with — a statistically significant sample, no doubt — it is far more likely that I fit somewhere under the fat (middling) part of the bell curve than anywhere else. So, even if I don’t mean it seriously, it actually is a statistical surprise that I am exemplary. The bottom line is, I’m not insecure. I’m a realist.”

There is no such thing as a “statistically significant sample.” When you perform a statistical analysis, your results can attain “statistical significance” and you can have “statistically significant” results. I would take half a point off of your test for your mistake. In any event, I think you meant that I have a “representative sample” (important for the validity of results). Yes, I have probably been with enough people so I have a fairly representative sample, although clearly there is a selection bias. I actually thought it was funny how before the first time we slept together, I asked you how many people you think it would be acceptable for a woman to have slept with. You told me if a woman had slept with more than 30-40 people (incidentally, the guideline for a “large sample” in some statistics textbooks), you might have questions/feel like she had to explain. Well, Jake, you made 41. I wanted to be like, “I see; well, we will have some talking to do later tonight–not until after you finally bed me.”

Ha ha, no, you are not a realist; you are a cynic. 3 girls is highly unusual for a 28-year-old. The opposite extreme, not a chance number. You attained this number by having certain issues that require explanation (and you explained thoroughly) as much as my situation does. Your issues are just far less sexy than mine.

I think it is inaccurate to say that sexual performance is a bell curve, and only someone with little experience would make this assumption. Penis size, yes, that is a bell curve, as are most things that occur in nature, and, yes, you are exactly average in that regard. Sexual performance is too varied to accurately plot a distribution because there are many aspects to consider. I’d say, though, that it is a tri-modal distribution. 30% of guys suck/I have a terrible time with them/it is a shitshow, 40% of guys are average/the sex is still pretty good because even a mediocre fuck is better than none, and 30% of the guys are awesome/I have a great time with them/I would do pretty much anything to keep fucking them. You’d definitely fall into the top 30%, but it isn’t as if I can really rank guys; they have different sexual skill sets and sexual pleasure is contingent upon compatibility, comfort, attraction, chemistry, coordination, etc.–not rote performance. Could I rank someone as two standard deviations about the mean and someone as two standard deviations below the mean? I don’t think so. My last boyfriend is the sexual holy grail to me, but this is about a lot more than his skill level; although, he surely fell close to the top strictly based on performance and would place in the top 30% even if only our first few encounters were accounted for. It occurs to me how skewed your perspective is due to your limited experience. In my mind, we have good chemistry and in my mind, our sex has an average amount of warmth. But almost all of your sexual experience has been incurred with girlfriends. In comparison to all the randomers, friends, etc. that I fuck, trust me, we were good together physically.

“The fact that you seem to want some posturing blowhard who never expresses insecurities is somewhat laughable.  Insecurity is a human condition. I’m insecure about things. You’ve made it exceedingly clear that you are insecure about things. The fact that I am comfortable talking about what I am insecure about only highlights my relative “secureness.” The fact that I am willing to talk about it with you means that I feel more comfortable with you than the general population.”

I don’t want a posturing blowhard; I just need someone who is specifically very sexually confident. Yes, I have expressed my insecurities. They have more to do with guys being able to look past the sex than with the sex, itself. (Thanks for affirming my insecurity!) I do appreciate how much you have shared with me. I wish there weren’t the constant self-deprecating comments. They got old really quickly.

Part 3: Stop imposing your assumptions about what I want or how I should function sexually; my concerns are not imagined!

“Any Pressure You Feel to Orgasm is Imagined or Self-Imposed”

You know what girls hate even more than being told they are overreacting: being told that something they are upset about is imagined. It is invalidating. You know how I know that any orgasm pressure I feel is not imagined nor self-imposed: I’ve fucked 40 other guys, hooked up with many more, and very few of them have made me feel that way. I’m not saying you intend to pressure me, just that your behavior makes me feel pressured. I did not invalidate you by saying that you imagine feeling demeaned, so don’t invalidate me by saying I imagine feeling pressured.

“In the relatively minor experience I have had, you are particularly hard to get off. That’s a fact. If that makes you feel uncomfortable, I’m sorry. We all have our sexual issues. If I can help you with your issue, I will — I won’t say anything about it from now on.”

DON’T tell me that I have an issue and then patronize me by saying you will help me with the issue that you created. My sexual functioning is not an issue nor is the way I feel about my sexual functioning. My issue is YOU, specifically, the way you comment on my sexual functioning, and the expectations that you IMPOSE on my sexual functioning. I’m glad you finally qualified a statement by saying, “In my relatively minor experience.” I won’t be told what women are like or what women are supposed to be like by a 28-year-old who has hooked up with a few girls and is generally ignorant about sex. You have claimed things that are absolutely absurd, in some instances about issues that are not at all heated for me, so it isn’t as if I am discounting what you say to protect myself or justify my situation. When you touch my clit, I scream because you use pressure. Clits are supposed to be touched, not pressed down on. That is just how it is. That’s how girls bodies work. You claim that I am especially sensitive? Ha! I am less sensitive clitorally than other women. This is why I never have and never will orgasm from oral sex (actually, I did twice, but it was in extenuating circumstances and it didn’t feel good). This is why I get bored almost instantly if someone doesn’t put fingers in me to accompany the clitoral stimulation. Lest you think I simply reject being told that I am different sexually, let me tell you the ways in which I think I am different (which I know from talking to people/common knowledge, hooking up with girls, and being told by people I’ve hooked up with): 1) My outer labia are huge, 2) I get way wetter than other girls, both in terms of vaginal lubrication and g-spot fluid, 3) I am less clitorally sensitive/inclined, 4) I am more vaginally sensitive/inclined.

Studies consistently show that 30% of women don’t orgasm during sex and 10% of women don’t orgasm at all. According to the medicalization of sexuality, 30% of women are considered sexually dysfunctional because MALE standards are applied to women. Of course, medical diagnoses pertaining to sexuality, many of which are defined by surveys crafted by drug companies, themselves, do not take into account whether someone’s functioning bothers them/hinders their satisfaction. Standards such as these also do not take into account circumstances. For example, the diagnostic guidelines for hypoactive sexual desire do not take into account whether someone is around sexually tempting stimuli, the quality of her relationship with her partner (if any), and other contributory factors in her life.

Orgasming is easy for men. All they need is a rhythmic motion. For men, orgasm is automatic, and for women, it is more controlled. If you keep touching a man long enough in the right way, it will just happen. However, many women have to will it, have to think about the way it feels. Circumstance plays a far greater role in female sexuality. For women, the skill level of a partner matters significantly more because the threshold is simply higher. Men can get off with pretty much anyone. Many women have no problem getting themselves off but can’t get off with men. Some of them can only get themselves off with very specific stimulation. Many women can get off with men but have to control their own orgasm. Again, specific stimulation is often a factor. And the majority of women cannot get off with all partners, at least not immediately. Most women need to have a coordinated routine with a partner before being able to orgasm with him/her. This is why one-night stands are not as satisfying for women: not because women need feelings to be able to function, but because they need partners who are familiar with their bodies and with whom they feel comfortable.

Where does all of this put me? Well, I am in the 70% of women who can orgasm during sex. I can’t orgasm during oral sex, but I really have no desire to, so there would be no reason for me to be upset about being atypical in this regard. For me, orgasms derived primarily from clitoral stimulation are unsatisfying and even uncomfortable. I need to be pounded. That’s just how it is. Before dating my last boyfriend, I never had an orgasm with a guy. It was very frustrating both sexually and in terms of my feeling as if I was disappointing men—I was. And I had slept with 23 people before him, so I was no virgin. I would get close and it just wouldn’t happen. I have many friends who are very sexual people, are familiar and comfortable with their bodies, assert themselves with men, have had a lot of sexual experience with a variety of people, and still have never had a guy get them off. Thus, I know I was not usual in this regard. We may have been in the minority, but a sizeable minority. After breaking up with that boyfriend, I was devastated for many reasons, one of which was that I thought I had broken up with the only guy who could get me off. My best friend kept trying to convince me that he was the first one, not the only one. It took a year, over which I had a lot of sex with a lot of people. I was no longer devastated: I realized sex is nothing to cry about and I was happy that I could feel pleasure at all. Trust me, I enjoyed the experiences and if I wanted to orgasm during them, I had no problem getting off in front of the guys. After a year, I started orgasming with guys. I won’t go into details about what changed; it’s complicated. I by no means orgasm with everyone or every time, but I could not be more thrilled or relieved.

Yes, I am hard to get off (easy to arouse, hard to get off: sad, true). I know that. But I am by no means unusual. Many girls are hard to get off. Some are harder to get off than I. If the two or three other girls you’ve had sex with were easier, good for them. I’m not sure I could say I’d rather function like they do, because I know little else about them and it is impossible to ever directly compare our phenomenological experiences. Many guys tell me that I come especially hard (although I only came hard once with you). Who knows if this is better or worse than orgasming easily. I started orgasming with you the third time we hooked up, I think, and approximately half of the times we’ve had sex, three out of six or seven, I think, I orgasmed first. This by no means constitutes “hard to get off.” Most women don’t immediately orgasm with new partners. Judging solely from my experiences with you, I would assume I was easy to get off, if anything. I’m not; you are very, very good. If you immediately got those other girls off, I wouldn’t be surprised. But don’t insult my intelligence and tell me how “hard to crack” I am. Um, you’ve managed. Yes, it takes a lot of work and I need specific stimulation, hence the direction, but it gets easier and easier with a partner once we figure it out. If you didn’t dump me, you would have figured that out. My last boyfriend would not say I was hard to get off. It took a few months to orgasm with him, but once it happened, it happened consistently. And it wasn’t like it was a strain. I’m not some puzzle who is hard to crack and I don’t want my sexuality to be reduced to a mission/challenge. Let me enjoy experiencing pleasure with you, being with you, without your end goal taking the forefront in a way that detracts from the overall experience.

My issue is not that I am hard to get off or that I am upset/embarrassed by my body’s responsiveness; my body functions quite nicely and I am exceedingly happy with it. Not to mention, I was happy having sex with you and happy with how my body reacted to you. My issue is that I don’t appreciate the unrealistic expectations that you impose upon me based on extremely limited experience and whatever other unrepresentative information you have gleaned from society about female sexual functioning (studies show that men assume their partners orgasm a lot more than they actually do; many women fake and, even in the absence of intentional deception, men assume the best). If I felt my body was inferior or I was otherwise dissatisfied with it, you could help me with my “issue” by being sensitive while I expressed my insecurities and not making me feel like my shortcomings decreased your satisfaction. The only way you can help me with my actual issue is to stop making an “issue” out of how my body works. I don’t need to hear about how I am compared to other girls, how you expect my body to function, or how you want it to function. Drop the commentary. It is especially insulting/inflammatory coming from a guy who is especially hard to get off. I don’t really care how difficult you find me to get off; if it is too tedious for you, stop fucking me. Oh, wait, you already did, so congratulations on saving yourself all of that trouble. After the first time we had sex, you were already talking about how you wanted me to orgasm. That is fucking insane. Anyone with any reasonable amount of experience would understand that girls don’t orgasm the first time they fuck a guy. Or usually even the third. I’m not preoccupied with this, so you shouldn’t be either; it is supposed to be about my pleasure.

I’m not worried about how long you take because once you told me that it is really hard for you to orgasm with condoms, I assumed that things would change if we ever got rid of the condoms (and I think guys who have only had sex within long-term relationships are a lot worse at using condoms and worse at adjusting to new partners in general). Based on a conversation we had on our third date, I assumed that if we were ever dated exclusively, we would eventually be able to get rid of the condoms. I have the same issue that you do: It is really hard for me to orgasm with condoms. Sex with condoms is like sex with a dildo that I cannot control. Obviously it is way hotter because a guy is attached to the dildo and you can watch him get aroused at the same time, but I don’t think I can feel much more through a condom than the shape of a penis; I certainly can’t feel what the guy feels. The whole interactive element is missing. It is just people shoving body parts at each other, rather than body parts twitching together and gripping each other. As long as we are talking about cold, technical sex, I should mention that the number one thing that leads to such a thing is using condoms, not giving instructions. Without condoms, things just happen; you don’t have to worry about manipulating body parts nearly as much because your bodies work in tandem. There isn’t as much of a disconnect in general. You don’t have to worry about partitioning body parts and sexual acts, so things flow better. There are many reasons I have been dissatisfied with my sex life over the past two and a half years of being single and slutty. One of them is that I’ve only had unprotected sex once. It is depressing.

I don’t want to make it sound like I was happy when the condom broke the second time we had sex, but sort of I was. It was a little preview of what sex would be like if we were dating. It gave me hope. Maybe that is sad, but it is true. I didn’t realize the condom exploded until you pulled out and there was all that cum (which turned me on a lot); in retrospect, the condom definitely ripped before you came. I know that because I could feel you come (not the semen part but the contraction part) and it was amazing. I was very, very close to orgasming myself. So I was less upset about the condom breaking and more upset by the fact that you freaked out when you realized it broke and I didn’t know if you were going to reappear soon and touch me again and I really, really needed to orgasm. I thought it would be insensitive to finish myself off while you were freaking out and when you got back in bed I felt kind of guilty about asking you to continue touching me. I couldn’t tell whether you were extra freaked out by the condom breakage because I wasn’t freaking out. Really I don’t have unprotected sex with random people (I’ve only had unprotected sex with 4 people in my entire life); I just wasn’t worried about you. And this is before I knew how few people you had slept with. It isn’t like I wouldn’t make you get tested if we ever did get rid of the condoms; it is just that you are in a very low-risk category and we only had one act of sex with failed protection, so the chances of my getting a disease were infinitesimal, as were the changes of my getting pregnant while on birth control I had been taking reliably.

“The fact of the matter is, when people have sex, they want to orgasm. I want to. You want to. “

DON’T tell me what I want! Yes, I like to get off. I need to get off. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t waste so much time doing it alone when usually masturbating is nothing more than a drag. I do not, I repeat, I do not want to orgasm every time I have sex. The first time we had sex, I did not want to orgasm. The second time we did, I felt like I needed to orgasm. Sex is about more than energy release. And you can release plenty of energy without orgasming. This is something that you don’t understand because you are a guy. One who clearly knows little about women and sexual variability. The other night I went to a lecture on the medicalization of female sexuality, and this super hot female grad student said something about how she thought it was sad that male sexuality framed in a narrow way is used as the benchmark for female sexual health, reducing sexuality to one function. I agree. I have had amazing sex that has resulted in orgasm, shitty sex that has resulted in orgasm, amazing sex that hasn’t directly resulted in orgasm, and shitty sex that hasn’t directly resulted in orgasm.

There is little correlation between the quality of sex and my ability to orgasm. Sometimes I orgasm because the sex is shitty and I feel like it wouldn’t haven’t been worthwhile without achieving that goal. Like, might as well get something out of this, or this isn’t going to get any better so I might as well get it over with quickly. Other times I am too busy enjoying sex to be concerned with how it is going to end. The fact is, for women certain sexual sensations lead to orgasm/the desire to orgasm and certain sensations don’t but aren’t necessarily any less enjoyable. I need a balance between clitoral and vaginal stimulation to orgasm, but often get carried away with being fucked because it is more intense (and more satisfying for me). There is also the issue of timing. If I don’t orgasm within the first 10-20 minutes of sex/intense sexual stimulation, it isn’t going to happen without being forced. This is true both of my masturbatory experiences and my experiences with other people. Because you take a very long time to orgasm, this makes it more difficult for me and eventually I lose interest (in orgasming). The first time we had sex, I was tired and satisfied and just wanted to go to sleep. When I said that I was good and pushed your hand away when you tried to touch me more, you were pretty insistent on continuing to touch me. Which I didn’t want. Because I was done, orgasm or not. Other times I’ve had shitty, forced orgasms with you. By the time I orgasmed I was already done with the sexual experience. Moreover, I don’t necessarily want to have an orgasm at your hands/penis. Sometimes I would be more satisfied if I just got off in front of you or it was a joint endeavor. I’m not as hard to get off as you might think. The last time we hooked up, I definitely was holding off. I could have easily orgasmed while you were fingering me and I was playing with my clit. But I assumed you wanted to have sex with me, so I didn’t want to ruin it by coming immediately. Then I could have orgasmed easily when I was on top of you, but you seemed so bored and were just lying there; it wouldn’t have been hot for me even if mechanically it worked out. I should have just orgasmed while we were touching me together. I though out of all the times we hooked up that was actually one of the hottest sequences because it didn’t seem staged at all and I could tell you were engaged in watching me. Because your head wasn’t between my legs, we could interact and I felt more connected to you than I did during most of our other experiences together.

The time I wanted to get off again after we had sex, was a total disaster. Yes, I wanted to get myself off because it was all about the orgasm. But I sort of wanted you to watch me. I should have just said that. You went to shower and left the door open. I started getting off as I would alone. Getting off alone is always different than getting off in front of another person, no matter how comfortable you are with that person. I told you, you either had to stay in the bathroom while I finished (I felt kind of interrupted), or you had to be involved. But you stood in my doorway like some creepy voyeur, which was totally distracting from the expediency or my finishing and didn’t involve you in a way that would pique my sexual interest or maintain a sexual mood. By the time I got you to sit down next to me, I had already lost interest. The way in which you were involved in the last thirty seconds was perfect and all I had wanted from the beginning. I orgasmed immediately when you started holding my tits and biting my neck, and even being close enough to smell you (even though you had just gotten out of the shower) helped a lot. If I get off in front of you, I am essentially getting off to you, so you need to be a part of it or let me get off alone. You don’t need to be mechanically involved, per se, just present and attentive. When you said something like, “It’s silly for you to be self-conscious about this,” as you were gawking from my doorway, it was sort of missing the point.

“If I can’t make you orgasm, believe me, I don’t feel like that affects my self worth in the least. I do, however, have a fundamental sense of fairness. If I’m going to get off, I feel as though you should, too. And yes, I want to do what I can to make that happen.”

You obsession with fairness perturbs me slightly. For example, how when I asked you if you had ever cheated and why not, you said because you knew it was a really bad thing to do. Like it was against the rules. Sure, I expect guys to put effort into getting me off if I put effort into getting them off. But I don’t want to feel like I have to maintain some 1:1 ratio. I’ll help you get off if you want to get off and want my help, and I expect the same willingness and enthusiasm from you. I don’t like the thought of it being about fairness or obligation, though. Good partners are helpful. Good partners enjoy pleasing their partner. That’s enough for me. Speaking of playing by the rules, I have a friend who broke up with a long-term girlfriend due to some sexual incompatibilities. She was a strict feminist and her ideology, which he respected intellectually, bled into the bedroom routine. She was fixated on duty, honor, integrity, etc. and the sex was very “quid pro quo.” While such an exchange would be expected in a casual encounter where you are essentially exchanging sexual favors, he was dissatisfied with the rigidity because in a long-term relationship, sometimes you just want to give and sometime you just want to receive. I agree. I don’t want there to be a running tab. This is my long-winded way of saying that sometimes I want to orgasm twice, sometimes not at all, sometimes I want to give you instructions so I can orgasm with you inside me, and sometimes I want to get off in front of you because that seems like the most pleasurable option to me. Don’t make the decision for me.

Granted, the first time we had sex was the first time we had sex so maybe you thought I was trying to be polite by waving you off. But then there was that time we hooked up in the morning (one of my favorite sexual experiences with you). I told you to just use you hands, because you were doing a great job with that and it is kind of hard for me to orgasm in the morning (fingers are a more familiar sensation). You kept questioning whether I didn’t really want you to use your mouth. Okay, so maybe in the morning I don’t know if I wake up smelling amazing so I might be a little self-conscious about having someone put their face down there. Mostly, though, I told you to use your fingers because that felt good, not because I wanted to be polite. So I wish you would stop questioning what I want if it doesn’t make any difference to you. While we are on the finger topic, I’d far prefer you use you fingers more. I scream when you touch my clit because you do it too hard, but when we hung out after the psychedelic convention and you touched me under my bright green, fish-patterned dress as I straddled you, it was amazing. I was sort of turned on by being touched casually while we were having a conversation (the only time I really felt like you were teasing me). Mostly I was turned on because mechanically you were doing a great job.

I am confident that you can do a good job with your fingers, but it seems like you always skip that and go straight for your mouth. This isn’t a complaint I have against you specifically; guys in general assume that girls prefer the mouth and skip right to that part. Normally I get bored when guys go straight for the mouth and my clit can’t even get that hard without fingers to help. I’d almost always prefer to be teased with fingers first, for there to be a build up. And even have you alternate a little between the two types of stimulation. I’ve never complained about it because you do such a fantastic job with your mouth. Getting a hand down there is part of the natural progression, though, and hands are the type of stimulation I am most familiar with so they should be the first point of contact. I also like knowing that you can feel how wet I’m getting—independent of any type of stimulation. Sometimes you take off my pants and slip your face between my legs without even touching me through my pants first; that’s a huge turn off. Clothing should never be removed prior to attempted physical contact.

Speaking of teasing, I wish you were a little pushier sexually. I wish there were sexual tension. It is a difficult situation because I’m easy, we don’t hang out often, and you aren’t pushy so there is nothing to resist. There is no surprise sexually; we always fuck before bedtime, not before we go out. There has been many a time when I’ve wanted to invited myself upstairs before we go out, but logistically it seems like a nightmare because your buzzer doesn’t work so you have to meet me at the door and by then we are already out of the door. I would have to pretend I had to go to the bathroom (in your bathroom without a locking door) or something to hook up with you in a way that didn’t involve gravitating to your place and resigning at the end of a night. That one time  we were at my place and I told you I just wanted to cuddle, what I wanted was for you to fucking grope me as we were “just cuddling” before we went to sleep. I can’t believe I made it through the night, made it to the morning, as I was sliding around in my pants. I would have given in if you had just tried. If you want to know the pivotal “when did Genie realize she wanted to date Jake exclusively moment,” it was probably as I was sliding around in my pants and realized how I was increasingly turned on by your smell and couldn’t believe I had the bad fortune of dating some nice, geeky guy who wouldn’t just touch me. And in the morning I looked so pained, tried to touch you a little through your pants, as your cock was perfectly framed in your boxer briefs, and you didn’t just get it. Until that night I was straddling you in my bright green, fishy-patterned dress.

“There are plenty of guys who couldn’t care less. I’m sure that’s not what you want.”

Of course I wouldn’t want to be with a guy who didn’t care less. I’ve been with guys like that. I know you are attentive partner. But I also don’t want to be with someone who dictates when, how, and if I orgasm. I should say that my blog name is sort of a misnomer. It should really be “in defense of female pleasure.” “In defense of getting off” was just catchier. It isn’t all about orgasms or finding guys to aid me in my pursuit or orgasms. It is about finding guys who will help me attain pleasure as I desire it, without questioning what I want or my motives. Guys who enjoy seeing women pleased, being part of giving that pleasure, and not imposing what they think feels good or should feel good. One thing I like about you, besides the fact that you do put a lot of effort in, is that I can tell you really like pussy. Many guys don’t, straight as they may be; they just like sticking their dick in it. You know that my vagina is connected to my body, so you know how to work with it.

“Also on the orgasm front, I would far prefer that you have your orgasm first. Why? Because after I’ve come, I lose all desire to do anything sex-related.”

You admit, then, that you are doing something that puts PRESSURE on me to orgasm. You go out of your way to make me orgasm before you do. It all makes sense now. If this is your preference, just your preference, then fine. But if you insist upon my orgasming before you do, then that is selfish and it isn’t going to work. As a practical matter, it is ridiculous that you would expect the woman to orgasm first. Guys normally are faster (not you); that’s how reproduction works. Again, I have the same issue you do: Although I don’t lose all interest in anything sex-related after I orgasm, after I orgasm and want to bask in the post-orgasmic glory and regain my breath/composure, I don’t want to have to worry about getting you off. I realize that sometimes this happens, and I do my job.

There are other logistical reasons why I’d usually prefer that you orgasm first (this is by no means something I require all the time; sometimes I definitely prefer orgasming around a penis, although with condoms it isn’t that great). Usually watching people get off/feeling them get off is hot, so it is hot for me if I get to enjoy that before I orgasm, at which point it is still hot but less useful. Oh yeah, and then there is that really big important thing: I love semen. Watching you cum is pretty much the most exciting thing ever. It comes out in perfect, distinct spurts, and a lot comes out of you. When we hooked up in the morning and first you touched me, then I blew you and you came all over yourself, and then I got off, it was beautiful. Sometimes I need to see/touch/experience cum to even be able to orgasm myself. The time I wanted to get off again after we had sex, part of that was because the sex was amazing and I came really hard the first time, but the other half was that working on you and watching you cum turned me on even if I was super done in terms of having sex; I regained interest. Don’t mean to objectify you and treat you like some kind of masturbatory accessory, but I like being involved in your orgasm; it excites me. I thought it was funny when you accidentally got cum on me and commented on/complained about how red I was. Partially from the energy expenditure. Mostly from being turned on in anticipation of cum. If you felt how wet I was, it would have been verified. Even typing about this gets me wet. I’m not joking.

Another practical issue is, unlike many girls, I have a refractory period and after I orgasm my vagina is closed for business, at least, for a while. If I keep going directly after orgasming, things are too sensitive, I feel uncomfortable and overstimulated, my muscles end up working overtime to compensate for the lack of sensory interest, and I end up very, very painfully sore the next day. Last time we had sex, you came like thirty seconds after I did, so it was fine. The time when I came really hard and wanted to come again later, after I took a break during which I blew you, you kept fucking me and for while it actually felt good. This is very unusual for me. And soon thereafter I needed you to be done and asked you how you wanted me. I understand that it is a big turn off when I say that, indicating that I’ve lost interest (or simply, physically cannot fuck anymore without hurting myself). You should understand, though, that I am doing it out of politeness. It is a warning of sorts, a “You can fuck me however you want for a minute; get it in while you still can.” I am giving you the option of continuing to have access to my body or else I either have to switch to my mouth or you are on your own in terms of figuring out how to get off. Other guys are better at arranging me how they want and having their way with me. Treating it like a purely physiological endeavor. Treating me like an inflatable doll. If that is a turn off to you, I can’t blame you. I would, at least, be willing to feign enthusiasm while you attempted to orgasm expediently inside me. But at a certain point, I just can’t keep going.

These reasons aside, it is boring to always have to do things in a particular order. I don’t want sex to be regimented like that. It seems like we are fighting for who orgasms first and it ends up taking us both longer. You expend all that energy on me is at the expense of your arousal, then I have trouble orgasming/it gets mechanical because things take forever. It is hard for me to orgasm when you seem disengaged, like to are fucking me like it’s your job and I can’t feel your arousal progressing at all.

“You’ve already been very clear that you’re allowed to act like a ‘dude’ and treat me like just another penis. Similarly, being a ‘dude,’ I’m allowed to act like a ‘dude’ and essentially shut down once I’ve come. I won’t apologize for how my body works.”

If that’s how your body works, that’s how your body works; don’t claim it is because you are a guy. You seem to know little about how other guys’ bodies work. For one thing, you were surprised that I was surprised that you stay hard for a while after you orgasm. You explained that it wasn’t “impressive” because it wasn’t like you could keep going, and when I asked whether you meant you couldn’t keep fucking or you couldn’t orgasm again, you said matter-of-factly that when you can’t orgasm you have no interest in fucking. This is news to me. Not because I am a woman and have had sex without expecting to orgasm for years, but because many men would not agree with you or, at least, would not state this like a given. Sure, most men have refractory periods and I am surprised on the rare occasion that a guy can orgasm and keep fucking on the same erection. But many, many men work on me while they reboot, then are interested in a round two. Sometimes they orgasm again, whether in me, in my mouth, or in their hand. The most common scenario, though, involves my orgasming (usually getting myself off, as I soon tire of their semi-flaccid penis), my offering them my mouth after I’ve come to (i.e., regained my breath/composure), and their waving me off. I always offer a mouth if someone has offered me their penis. Often guys regain interest for a minute or two, while they are working on me or watching me work on myself, yet they aren’t quite up to orgasming again or it would be such a production that it isn’t worth the energy expenditure. The sooner they offer themselves to me after orgasming the first time, the less likely it is that they can or want to orgasm again. I’d actually prefer that guys weren’t hasty with that and just waited until they were fully ready to go, in terms of their erection being solid. There usually ends up a lot of my alternating between my hand and their penis.

That you completely lose interest after sex is a drawback and semi-unusual. No one’s body is going to work exactly as I want it to, though, and I can live with that. Just like I could live with a guy who came quicker than I desired (this is less desirable in the short term, but less scary as a long-term prospect). I hope that you would have the decency to continue being attentive to me, even if once you are done, touching me doesn’t turn you on, and that you would be unselfish enough not to insist on my always orgasming first, which is not what I want. In the ideal situation, and I am basing this off of my last relationship, I would orgasm first about 1/3 of the time. Of course, this might partially have to do with my rhythm with the guy, and once people have been sleeping together for a while they learn to coordinate orgasms in a way that is mutually beneficial and not as much of a chore.

DON’T tell me that I treat you like just another penis. I’ve already told you that this bothers me, so I’m not sure why you insist on antagonizing me. I think your penis is: a) attractive (not all are), b) a good size for me (about 80% are a reasonable size), and c) functional (it is especially reliable, as are you). It is just a penis, though; 50% of people have them, many of them are willing to play with me, and most of them are in decent condition; in that regard, then, your penis is interchangeable with other penises. Fortunately, there is a person attached to your penis. I’ve chosen to hook up with you, repeatedly, and not other men. Doesn’t this mean (signify) anything to you? It is not because there is anything remarkable about your penis. Or because I don’t have access to others. I have many a penis who would like to hear from me. However, I like you as a person, I am looking for more than sheer physical contact, and I do not treat you like you are a person attached to a penis. I’ve spent hours and hours conversing with you. In some instances I’ve spent time with you without sex being involved. Your penis is ultimately just another penis, and I’ve played with many, but you know as well as I do that I wasn’t dating you for your penis, nor did I find you indistinguishable from other guys. Let me remind you that it is you, not me, who wasn’t interested in being in a relationship. So don’t give me your guilt-inducing bullshit. You are the one who doesn’t take me seriously, who finds me expendable. I won’t apologize for wanting to have sex with you.

Part 4: Our sexual preferences are incompatible

“Speaking of preferences, I don’t like semen. I don’t like it on me. It’s sticky, and it’s hot, and it smells bad.”

I’m not sure whether to laugh at this section (my misfortune), cry, or laugh so hard I cry. This is what happens when people stop being polite and start getting real. Ha, no. This is what happens when a cum-o-phile meets a cum-o-phone (hyphenation borrowed from “jack-o-lantern.”) It’s like The Brady Bunch, but less old-timey and without those literal squares. The other sexual differences (instructions and orgasm order) could maybe be worked on, would maybe work themselves out as we got used to each others’ preferences and developed a sexual rapport. I’m not so sure about this one. Cum is more than a mere preference to me.

Not sure I can explain exactly how I feel about semen, if there is no sexual thing you feel as strongly about. I’m not sure it is a “fetish,” per se. With fetishes you need the fetish object (the term “object” shouldn’t be taken literally) to function and use the rest of the sexual scene as a vehicle by which to interact with the object. I have had many pleasurable and satisfying sexual experiences, some of them with you, in which I didn’t interact with cum. I’ve also gotten off to porn that doesn’t involve cum. Other things excite me. I like plain, old sex. I don’t want cum to be involved in every sexual experience I have; it would get boring, would lose its element of novelty and surprise. This notwithstanding, cum has been and always will be the thing that gets me aroused and gets me off the hardest, quickest, easiest, etc.; I’m infatuated. I would call myself a “cum enthusiast,” though, I would also accept the more elite “aficionado,” or the more sinister “fiend.”

I’ve spent hour upon hour searching for/watching porn involving cum, and not because I get off all the time, but because I am very particular about it. How it comes out, how it lands, etc. I like how semen looks when it flies out of your penis. The spurts are especially pronounced, distinct, separated. The texture/consistency is perfect. One of the more disappointing facets of my sad, single sex life for the past two and a half years is that the reality is, when you are having protected sex, semen almost invariable gets collected in condoms, and it is useless to me (gross, even) once it hits latex. Because my sexual encounters haven’t been consistent, on the celebrated occasion that I am given the opportunity to touch a real, live person, most likely I want to have sex with him. Every once in a while I get lucky and there is a round two, or else I orgasm first and, thus, still encounter the guy’s cum. I could probably catalog each and every one of my encounters with semen over the past few years, in part because they are so sparse, and in part because I’ve probably gotten off to each one a pathetic amount of times. Something about semen is so visual. Anticipatory.

“[J]ust because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I think badly of people who do like it. Believe me, I’m happy to let you have it. That being said, I said I would stop saying ‘ew,’ in part because you asked and in part because I know I find it impolite when I’m eating something that somebody doesn’t like and they say ‘ew.'”

I appreciate your offer to bathe me in semen, I really do. In theory, I would thoroughly enjoy contact with your semen. But I’m not quite sure this is enough. While your analogy is clever and I happen to like it, it is the work of someone who does not comprehend my relationship with semen. Fine, you agree to not say “ew” because you find it impolite when people say “ew” to food you are enjoying (I don’t really understand this social convention, as I do not find it impolite, myself). Unfortunately, this is not analogous to my situation, as sex is a joint experience. When you eat food with someone, although you enjoy the social companionship together, you enjoy the sensory experiences separately. Your negative experience with a food would hardly detract from a food companion’s positive experience with it, even if it might color your opinion ever so slightly. When I have sex, though, I like the person to get off on the same things I get off on. This is why men who like pussy are better partners; they can enjoy the physical reality of oral sex and not just the ego trip of pleasing a woman. The more excited a partner is watching me get off, the more excited I get. If we can get off at the same time, because we are into the same thing, that is even better.

This brings us to the pivotal question: do most guys like semen? The answer is (a qualified): no. A small percentage of men are particularly into semen, and I assume I am a member of an even smaller subset of women who are particularly into semen. I wouldn’t necessarily be more into someone who was extra super into semen, because our loves of semen might clash. We could be into it in different ways, which is even worse, because I need my semen experience to unfold in a particular way. It would be like trying to get off to all that porn I sift through, only more in my face (no pun intended). The thing with semen is, it isn’t a fetish that is appalling to most people. Fixating on semen might be strange, and I don’t commend myself for my semen admiration more or less than I chastise you for your semen disdain, yet we can both agree that semen is, at least, naturally part of sex. It isn’t like feet, which are involved in sex (for leverage purposes), but aren’t integral to the act. Or bodily waste products, which have no business in the bedroom at all. I assume if I were a bodily waste product fetishist, I would have to cruise in a very limited and specialized community to find a partner. Most people would not tolerate engaging in such a fetish unless they shared it. With semen, on the other hand, all men produce it and the vast majority of men are indifferent to it.

I have only been with two guys besides you, as far as I know, who had any reservations about semen. The guy I dated Freshman year of college found it repulsive, and was scared of getting it on himself to the point where he would actually stop me from blowing him right before he was about to come if he thought there wasn’t a proper receptacle. It was always a problem between us, and that was before I discovered how into cum I was (never had a guy cum on me until Freshman year, when someone asked and I thought, why not; I am washable). One of my friends that I hooked up with in college couldn’t get himself to cum on me, because as much as he knew I was into it (he knew this before we even hooked up), and as much as I begged him to give it to me, he couldn’t get past the fact that he found it to be horribly degrading (I don’t). That was a shame considering I couldn’t orgasm without seeing his semen and I think my insistence on interacting with his semen sort of freaked him out. These two set backs aside, while some guys have made me reaffirm that that’s, in fact, what I want, before they were comfortable giving it to me, most are totally indifferent to the prospect and, like you, are happy to give it to me. Many guys eventually get excited about it when they realize how much it gets me off. My last boyfriend was not at all into semen before I started dating him; he even had some issues the first time I asked him to cum on me. After continually being part of cum’s magical effect on me, he got into it and started asking me if he could cum on me, when he felt like it, instead of merely being complicit upon my requests.

What separates you from the other guys who are not into cum is your extreme stance. I am in the very small percentage of people who finds cum enchanting, and you are in the very small percentage of people who finds cum repugnant. Others are indifferent or dislike semen only because they find it to be a nuisance. Thus, their ability to enjoy it WITH me isn’t much of a stretch. Even though I believe that you are willing to give it to me as like a charitable donation or because you think it would facilitate your clean up or whatever, and even though I believe that maybe you could grow to find the process of cumming on me hot once you realize how much I love it, the fact that you would find it aversive to get it on yourself ruins it for me. I don’t want the cum delivery to be partitioned or sequestered in any way, physically separating what I find acceptable from what you find acceptable. I wouldn’t want to have to worry about upsetting you by getting it on you. I’ve seen your candid reactions: you genuinely find it to be disgusting. I like my interaction with semen to go beyond getting it on me. As I mentioned, bountifully, I like watching guys cum on themselves. And sometimes I like them to spread it on me a little afterwards; to use as lube for my nipples as I am finishing myself off. Or to rub their cock in a little as they are still thrusting. Moreover, is the utmost luxury/privilege to collapse with someone into a post-coital heap of sweat, semen, girl cum, and oblivion. I’m not totally gross; I don’t want semen to remain on me forever. After a minute or two of having cum on your body, it starts melting, dripping, crusts over; you get cum rash. Clean up has to happen at some point. But I don’t want anyone running to the bathroom or being actively uncomfortable while I am still appreciating it and decompressing. I can’t have it be a controlled or inhibited experience, and I don’t think I could enjoy myself if you weren’t enjoying yourself. Part of the excitement of having someone cum on you is in “receiving” their orgasm; it is interactive.

It seems absurd for a cum-o-phile to date a cum-o-phobe when the vast majority of people do not fall in the extreme portions of the spectrum. This is not to say that I need to date someone who is exactly like me. I am not some selfish, inflexible, demanding bitch who expects sex to be exactly as she pleases. Cum is a category for me, though, that does not lend itself to compromise. It is of primary importance in terms of my thinking it is pure and beautiful and should remain unfettered. I will give an example of something I enjoy that I don’t feel the same way about. I wanted my last boyfriend to put his fingers and possibly his dick up my ass and I wanted to put fingers up his ass. He wanted nothing to do with anyone’s ass, although he eventually started rubbing my asshole at opportune times when he realized it was effectively an instant-orgasm button. After much badgering, he conceded and put fingers up my ass, doing such a bad job that I actually asked him if he did a bad job on purpose so I would stop bothering him. I lost interest even though it wasn’t as gross as he thought it would be. We never really broached the subject again. Does this mean I was unsatisfied with him sexually? No, because I was so satisfied with him in practically every other regard that I didn’t feel at all deprived, and it was the first time in my entire life (hopefully not the last) that I had ever been satisfied sexually. I wasn’t going to split hairs. In the grand scheme of things, having a finger up my ass occasionally isn’t that important; cum is simply higher on my list.

Ugh, ick, and bleh. I should have known. I was attuned to the cues but chose to ignore them. After the first time we hooked up, you said something about not liking to get bodily fluids on your sheets (I mean, most people don’t like this, but they don’t go out of their way to avoid it). You also said you didn’t like/had never had period sex, yet you were still willing to hook up with me when I was getting my period, so I assumed you could get over that. And maybe–by extension–the bodily fluids thing. I was horrified, horrified, by the way, when I showed you my gay porn collection and you gasped when you saw a cumshot clip. You said you were surprised, not grossed out. Yes, it was a lot of semen. I’ve probably gotten off to, no, finished to, that video 100 times. That is why it is in the “best of” folder, which should more aptly be named “videos that genie finishes to: old standbys.” You told me sometimes you orgasm without ejaculating (when you are at home, not anyplace exotic) because you don’t feel like cleaning up the semen. So, yeah, I should have been privy to your cum phobia but I was in disbelief, and I was naïve enough to think that when you apologized for getting cum on me it was out of politeness, not projected empathy. It isn’t like you went out of your way not to get cum on yourself, or our respective sheets, for that matter. Speaking of odd, it is very odd to apologize to someone upon getting a little cum on her hand. That is part of sex. We are no longer 16; you don’t need to catch every drop in a tissue so someone’s mother doesn’t discover it. I know I feel differently about cum than most people, but if I were you, I would drop that part of your routine. I’ve never had a guy apologize to me for that before (getting it in hair, in mouthes, on faces, or maybe on sheets is a different story) and I can’t imagine a reasonable girl expecting an apology for the results of a normal bodily function. If a girl cared about it, she would go out of her way to have tissues next to her bed and to say “tell me when.” Only the prissiest of people would make a production out of a little spilt semen.

That brings us to the companion topic of female bodily fluids. I squirt cum. I’m not sure if you understand what that means. In fact, I’m sure you don’t, because as much as people intellectually understand it and see it happen in videos and as much notice as I give, it almost never fails to surprise in person. Most guys are not grossed out by it, only surprised. Some are super turned on. A few are scared that it’s pee, even though it doesn’t smell like pee. If you are grossed out by semen because it is hot, sticky, and smells bad, then I can’t imagine your not being grossed out by g-spot fluid. On one hand, it is liquidy, not sticky. On the other hand, it is hot, smells bad (different from semen), and is way more difficult to contain/predict than semen. There are two reasons I haven’t squirted with you. The most obvious is that you seem loath to experiencing it, and I do not want to hook up with someone who finds something that comes out of my body to be gross or unpleasant. The less obvious reason is that usually only I can get myself to squirt. Guys have done it before, but not consistently; when it happens, it is a fluke. Because you have been doing such a great job fingering me, I haven’t had much hands-on time. Normally, though, I would play with myself more. Specifically, I would touch myself as an interlude during sex to get myself closer to where the guy is. Again, it isn’t just a question of not getting it on you. I love cumming all over guys, and, as a practical matter, it is easier for me to orgasm in certain positions (e.g., straddling the guy) that lend themselves to that. I like sex to be as wet, messy, and sloppy as possible. The amount of fluids we are drowned in post-sex is almost a direct measure of success.

Part 5: Don’t misjudge me and tell me I’m being illogical when I get upset

“I know exactly what you said regarding taking a break from sex and wanting a boyfriend… That being said, I am most certainly allowed to make assumptions about you based on your past behavior. This is what rational people do… So yes, I trust you. But you are what you do. Everything I know about you factors into things I assume and/or think about you. That being said, I have not known you to be a liar, so I have no reason not to believe explicit things you say.”

You can’t have it both ways; this is self-contradictory. You say you trust me and have no reason to disbelieve explicit things I say, and that you knew exactly what I said about wanting a boyfriend and taking a break from sex, yet you somehow assumed that I was sleeping with a bunch of other people. Either you didn’t believe me, or you discounted concrete information. In the absence of concrete information about present behavior, rational people make assumptions based on past behavior. Similarly, rational people use stereotypes to make inferences about individuals in the absence of relevant data pertaining to those individuals. Because you decided to override my explicit claims with your assumptions, I feel like I have been sold short. I wasn’t hooking up with other people because I meant what I said about taking a break from having sex with people I felt as if I had no relationship potential with and because I liked you and was seeing you fairly regularly so I didn’t feel as if I had to go out of my way to meet other people. Since our conversation in which you made it clear that you weren’t interested in dating me exclusively, I’ve started seeing other people and I think I’ve thrown my towel in, in terms of exacting sexual restraint. Not that I’ve met anyone else I’m interested in.

“[T]here is plenty of good reason why I would not be surprised that you would greet guys at your fairy party with a kiss. And frankly, I couldn’t care less that you do this.”

About the fairy party, you apparently misunderstood me. I said something along the lines of, “Don’t be surprised by how people interact with me; at parties like these kissing is practically a greeting.” I meant that if kissing (not a mere peck on the cheek) is practically a greeting, you should be prepared for what else people might expect from me. Blatant sexuality in this community is not unusual and sometimes I like getting touched. I have some decency, though, and would not make out with or grope guys in front of you, regardless of how casually we were dating. Even if you had no problem with that, it would be out of my comfort zone. Either way, I warned you out of consideration; I did not want to put you in a situation where you were uncomfortable or felt slighted. As you are more conservative than I am, and even I would find it gauche if someone I was dating decided to be physical with other people in front of me, I thought bringing it up ahead of time was the right thing to do. Especially since before you met my friends we hadn’t discussed how you would be introduced (i.e., whether we would be upfront about meeting on JDate), and that lead to unnecessary awkwardness. Besides being upset about being misjudged, I was sort of upset that you were unfazed by the prospect of my hooking up with other guys in front of you and my being tasteless enough to be physical with other guys without running it by you first. Made it seem like you had no interest in me; if you did, these things presumably would have bothered you.

In any event, regardless of our miscommunications, I did not need some patronizing lecture on what constitutes “rational.” Likewise, I don’t need to be reminded how you are “allowed” to think. You are allowed to do whatever you want. The fact is, you misjudged me and people don’t like being misjudged.

You accuse me of “tak[ing] what [you] say” and “assum[ing] the worst possible interpretation,” while you presumably ignore the context in which you say things. You complained about the “affectionless” sex and how I didn’t like to be “emotionally vulnerable,” so I assumed these were related. Similarly, when you expressed surprise that I was interested in being in a relationship with you and brought up my sexual history, I inferred that you were making assumptions about my interest in you based on my past behavior. This doesn’t seem unreasonable to me. I’m not getting emotional about things and distorting connections. If you say related things in temporal proximity, I make connections; that is what rational people do.

“I am allowed to express surprise when you say you want to be in a relationship with me. It has little to do with your sexual history and even less to do with any insecurity I may have. It has almost everything to do with the fact that, at the time you proposed it, I didn’t really feel like we were at that point yet.”

You are allowed to be surprised by my expressing interest in being in a relationship with you, and I am allowed to be both hurt and surprised by your surprise. I’ve never been in a situation before where I dated someone for two months, things appeared to be going well, and the guy expressed surprise that I would want to date him. If you date someone consistently over a significant amount of time and you like each other, you are effectively dating, whether or not there are titles. And if you don’t like each other, you stop seeing each other. Usually the distinction becomes obvious before the two-month mark; by that point, I assumed the transition to exclusivity was more of a formality than anything else. In general, 26-year-old women are not interested in 2-month flings. I haven’t dated someone for that period of time since I was in high school. I’m old enough and experienced enough to know what I want. If after two months, you aren’t interested in being in a relationship with me, the bottom line is: either you aren’t interested in me or you are too callow for me to find you tolerable. I’m not going to behave as if I’m in a relationship with someone before I am; I’m not that naïve.

Afterword:

I’m left wondering whether these problems were actually insurmountable. It seems hasty to diagnose the sex as “not working,” given how much I was enjoying the sex prior to our discussion. Ultimately, though, you cannot tell if sex is going to work without having sex. (Despite my sexual doubts, I wish you had called me back when I texted you; I wanted you to fuck me and fucking cum all over me.) And you can’t tell how you feel about people when you throw words back and forth at each other, without having the contextual experience of face-to-face contact to anchor the words. The two-month mark is always the time around which things implode because you get personal before developing a common language. It is easy to hit nerves and hurt people without intending to, and even easier to write them off to pacify the discordance.

That said, even before receiving your dismissive e-mail, I found the tone of the 5-point e-mail to be abhorrent.

You know what I wanted? An apology. You said things that upset me. It doesn’t matter if you didn’t mean to upset me. You did. Maybe I misinterpreted some things, but not intentionally, obviously, and you did say things that were hurtful, regardless, and in certain ways you misjudged me. So I would have appreciated it if you felt bad for hurting my feelings. But instead you belittled me and told me I was petty and immature for being upset about whatever you assumed I was upset about without even giving me a chance to explain. And then you dumped me for not being able to take me seriously. I’d rather be one who cannot be taken seriously for being upset about purportedly ridiculous/irrational things than be some asshole who says insensitive things, tells me to share in no uncertain terms why I am upset, turns on me and says of course someone as frivolous as I am would be upset by being told the things you told me, and then dismisses me on account of not being able to take me seriously. You wanted me to be emotionally vulnerable around you? Ha! I was emotionally vulnerable. I shared my insecurities. You laughed at them.

And you thought you had a chance, despite my alleged sluttin’, because you are “better than” the other guys. Ha ha. Ha. With your parting e-mail and text message, you stooped to the level of RZL (anything fuckable) and Tiger (keep chuggin’)–a very select few who dumped me unceremoniously. (As for them, they have since begged for my forgiveness and continued attention).

“This should clear some stuff up.”

This should clear everything up.

A week later I sent him a relatively contentless e-mail, explaining why I was hesitant to e-mail him back, rather than addressing his 5 points…

GENIE:

There are a few reasons I haven’t e-mailed you. Something about this seems so fatalistic. My assumption that this will be our last communication makes it difficult to choose what I want to express, as the contextualization of my words is presumably permanent. I’m slightly uncomfortable with the idea of writing you not having any comprehension of why you would be receptive to hearing from me. Your last e-mail, however rash and hastily written it may have been, conveyed that you don’t respect me and have no interest in continuing to see me. After I told you I would not e-mail you if you were going to be snarky and dismissive, you continued to insult me. In your text message to me, you were petty enough to belittle my mode of communication, continuing the theme of not taking me seriously, being a pedant who values form over content, and shutting me down before giving me the opportunity to make a point. It seems odd that I am the one who is made to be apologetic. You upset me, even if you didn’t mean to, and instead of apologizing and telling me that I misunderstood you, you mocked me for how I received your insensitive and poorly articulated critique. Then, when you revised your statements to constitute a list of your preferences, and my initial impression was that I didn’t know if it was going to work because your preferences are in diametric opposition to mine, you wrote me off as being too immature to take the implication that I wasn’t “so good” at the one thing that defines me, according to you. If you want me to e-mail you so you have more fodder with which to belittle me or so you can self-justify your decision to dismiss me, there is nothing in this for me and I have no interest whatsoever in putting myself out there for your derisive pleasure. When you say you’ll “consider what [I] say,” what exactly will you consider? Do you still have any interest in me are you simply curious why things imploded? What changed so drastically between the time you sent your e-mail that articulated your gripes in such a manner so they were “amenable to fixing” and the time you sent your e-mail that dismissed me? What you stated in the later was bizarre to me, in part, because the former assuaged any insecurities our in-person conversation evoked, in favor of my thinking: ick, not for me!

After three weeks of not seeing you, doing this in writing seems like a silly (is that word too pedestrian for you?), semantic game. Without seeing each other in person to put this into perspective, I’m not sure either of us can properly evaluate this situation. For me, there were numerous factors to consider, I felt extremely conflicted, and, even now, I waver between thinking that I never want to talk to you again and you can enjoy demeaning other girls, and thinking that we liked each other consistently for two month and I did intend to date you so a few paragraphs probably shouldn’t cancel that out. But there still is the sneaking suspicion that you will never take me seriously if you’ve stated that fairly explicitly and treated me accordingly. My continuing to engage with someone who communicates with me in a disrespectful, patronizing, and contemptuous manner will only confirm that I am one not to be taken seriously.

Then there is the topic I broached in my one-sentence e-mail: the sex: can it work knowing what I now know about your preferences? I look to the past and think about how we were both mostly satisfied with the sex before our fateful conversation. But I was satisfied with the sex as it was after let’s say 5-7 times. I would not be satisfied with the sex if it continued on that level indefinitely. What you stated seemed like it could only devolve. For me, at least. I know this is ridiculous, but what I am most concerned about is the cum. Like, out of all the issues discussed in our interactions over the past few weeks, your looking down on me perhaps included, I think I am most concerned about cum incompatibility. You have no idea how important cum is to me: Not to make myself sound like a cum rag and you like a cum-manufacturing machine, but I don’t think I could ever be satisfied in an extended situation with a cum-o-phobe. I appreciate that you are more than happy to “give it to me,” as like a charitable donation or a clean up device or whatever, but that isn’t enough. Cum is more than a mere preference for me. On the other hand, I will never find someone else who is as good at fingering as you are and, by extension, as good at oral sex. I mean, other guys have been good but the fingers make a huge difference. Also, I especially like your body and was getting increasingly attracted to you as I grew accustomed to your smell.

Maybe you think this is laughable and I place a disproportionate importance on the sex because, as an adolescent, I am allegedly obsessed with defining myself by sex or just defining myself in general. I’m not going to deny the importance sex has to me. If you were someone I planned on hooking up with a few times and disposing of, the sex as you wanted it would be fine, the sex as it is now is and would continue to be fine. I wouldn’t expect much and wouldn’t stress a high level of compatibility. All I would need is for the sex to do its job and string me along. But in a prospective relationship I expect a lot more from the sex. I’m not saying that sex is the most important thing in a relationship and that I’d prefer to be with someone who was a good fuck and who was mediocre on some other valued quality than someone who had that quality but was lacking sexually. Ultimately, though, sex is the most important thing: it is the commonality that facilitates everything else—the common goal that holds partners together when other things get tough. Sex is what distinguishes sexual relationships from other modes of interpersonal interaction and if the sex fails, the relationship is doomed.

Sex, as you’ve stated you desire it, would serve only to be a point of contention. I’m not sure how much I’m willing to compromise about the sex. Less, certainly, than I am willing to compromise about other matters. I would like to explain why in detail and cover all of the topics that have arisen over the past few weeks. I don’t think written word is the appropriate format to discuss subjects that are physical in nature, and after three weeks of not seeing you, I’ve become so detached from how I felt spending time with you, that anything I could say would be almost irrelevant. I’m not open to continuing this conversation in any medium, though, if you persist in placing blame on and deferring issues to me without acknowledging that our dynamic, including aspects that you bring to it, contributes to my dissatisfaction across all of the areas that I complained about, regardless of whether I have inadvertently misinterpreted your intentions.

If you simply have no interest in me, I can self-justify by telling myself that even without the recent e-mail communication, I think this only had a shelf life of another few weeks. I’m confused as to why you wanted to keep seeing me if after two months you had no interest in dating me exclusively. I understand the sentiment that you didn’t think we were at that point yet (actually, I don’t understand this sentiment given the circumstances and I don’t think any self-respecting girl would tolerate letting things run much past two months), and that people have different levels of comfort when it comes to how quickly things progress. What I don’t understand, at all, even a little bit, is that you told me you felt the same way about me three weeks ago when we had this conversation as when you met me—you liked me then. If you continue to feel the exact same way about me, why would you expect it to change in the impending future? If, after two months, you aren’t interested in me, I doubt I have whatever it is you are looking for. Maybe I like you more than you like me. If this is the case, fine. I get it, and I can get over it. But don’t waste my time and don’t lead me on. Now I am merely disappointed; I don’t want things to develop if this isn’t going anywhere for you.

I wish you didn’t end communications with such antagonism. It certainly doesn’t make me think highly of you. I was sad and wistful about what I assumed was an imminent end, until being the recipient of your petty nastiness at which point I felt like, thanks for weeding yourself out. After pondering this for a week, though, and going back and forth, I’m not sure what to think anymore. Mostly I think this is a semantic game and we might as well see what it is like in person. It was working up until this point. There’s something bizarre about how a few e-mails and extended time with no face-to-face contact can distort the prominence of isolated issues, due to the relative permanence of words and the lack of anything else to counterbalance them. I wish you had called me back when I had texted you last weekend (which I did to see if it was too late to call you), so we could have already worked this out. I was mostly happy with you until I processed that fateful conversation. From my experience, two months is usually the time at which things implode. Sometimes they are salvageable and working things out is a bonding process. Other times you can self-justify the end and turn people into legendary figures on a blog.

Over the past week it has proved nearly impossible for me to disentangle whether I was upset by the incendiary accusations you made about me because I don’t like being misjudged or whether I was upset about being dumped because I actually liked you and thought that it was working before we started discussing how things were going. I’m no longer upset, partially because it is difficult for me to sustain emotion over periods of time without additional input and partially because the three-week mark has met me with a sense of resignation. Now all I think is: what a shame.

I told him, in no uncertain terms, how he had upset me…

GENIE:

This is just about the sexual issues, because I’m more sensitive about sex than anything else and I’m more sensitive about sex than normal people. Everything else we can talk about later.

I haven’t intended to be cryptic about “the conversation.” I am upset about everything you said relating directly or indirectly to sex, and since you were there, once I specified that I was upset by your complaining about the sex, I assumed you would know what I was referring to. Also last week I really wasn’t ready to talk about this, but since I’ve gotten increasingly upset the more I’ve thought about it, and since the thought of having sex with you kinda makes me want to projectile vomit, even if the actual act doesn’t, I guess it is time.

Issue #1) You gave me this speech about how you think the sex is mechanical and goal-oriented, and how I’m not affectionate at all. Then you conceded, “I guess I’ll have to get used to it.” So I’ve spent the past week repeating the phrase “get used to it” in my head and thinking about how awful it is that someone I’m fucking has to “get used to” fucking me. I feel stupid because I thought the sex was working and I thought it was something we didn’t have to worry about because it is good as is and will naturally get better. But I guess what I really think is good is the mechanical aspect, and apparently that isn’t what you are worried about. I’m not really sure I believe the “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t do it” justification, because I’ve has lots of mediocre sex that I’ve continued having; sex is sex and even mediocre sex is better than good almost anything else.

I think it is sort of unreasonable/misguided/demanding that you are complaining about my lack of affection. First of all, in terms of the sex I’ve had, the sex we’ve had together is pretty standard in terms of the level of affection. It’s kind of unfair for you to compare me to your other situations, most of which have been with people who have ended up girlfriends. I’m not sure exactly what you expect from me, but sex is just sex to me and nothing other than a physical, mutual exchange of pleasure. I like it that way, and it is safe that way; it would be emotionally exhausting otherwise. If you want a girl who is going to sentimentalize sex, then you obviously shouldn’t be fucking me and I think this should have been obvious from the sheer number of people I’ve been with. I give people nothing more than my body unless there is more between us, and I generally get along better with guys because we share similar sexual attitudes/expectations. Considering you and I started having sex after our third date, when I couldn’t have remotely had feelings for you yet, it is premature to expect affection. Relationship intimacy/commitment is a precursor to sexual affection, which is why sex progresses as feelings naturally do (and as people learn to physically coordinate).

I’m not sure what your goal was in complaining about this. If you thought it would prompt me to be more affectionate, then you are a huge failure because I could never feel any semblance of affection for someone who has to “get used to” fucking me. Also, since you seem to think you are a body who is interchangeable with other bodies and objects, I am never going to trust you. You’ve inadvertently demonstrated that we aren’t on a level yet where it would be appropriate to be overly affectionate. In general, though, sex and feelings are separate for me. The two don’t really equate to me except with very specific people. If this is a problem for you, stop fucking me and save me the humiliation.

Issue #2) There are two types of trust: basic and emotional. Basic includes believing that what people tell you is factual/not fabricated and emotional includes believing that someone wouldn’t purposefully do something to hurt you. Basic trust is something I grant everyone unless they give me particular reason for suspicion, and I expect others to do the same for me. I dislike people who are distrustful because either they have security issues that they impose on others or they are untrustworthy, themselves, and assume others are the same way. Fuck you for making assumptions about my intentions with you or my current sexual behavior based on my sexual past. Fuck you for ignoring what I’ve directly expressed to you: that I a) am looking for a boyfriend, b) have not hooked up with anyone recently who I didn’t think had any relationship potential, and c) because of this have pretty much taken a break from sex since the beginning of the summer. And fuck you for making assumptions about what I would act like with other guys around you when you have no basis for any of this and when I made it clear that I was upset by your previous assumptions and that you are just plain wrong. I’m not happy with the fact that you seem to think basic trust doesn’t come into play before people are dating seriously, I’m not sure that someone who doesn’t trust me at all would ever grant me a higher level of trust and I have no desire to get involved with someone who is distrustful, and I wonder if you don’t believe what I say to you why the fuck do I even bother talking to you? What a waste of my time.

There are three reasons why I’m particularly upset/frustrated by this:

First… Don’t think my abstinence has been easy. Refraining from sex with people I’m attracted to, who have explicitly expressed interest in me, is very counter to my nature. This has been hard/frustrating from a sheer physical perspective, which isn’t to say I get as much as I need normally, because I don’t, but in this case I only have myself to blame and any payoff is abstract and uncertain. Essentially, all not having sex has gotten me is bitterness. The second layer of frustration is that I have no social support and haven’t even discussed my decision with most of my friends because a) I’m not sure I would be taken seriously, and b) from a selfish perspective, they would be disappointed because I am the official orator of sexual ridiculousness. Then, after all the effort and willpower this has taken, all the trouble this has caused me, and all the self-doubt that has ensued, you don’t even believe me factually; that adds insult to injury.

You are right that I would be upset by the implication that you don’t take me seriously/think I have willpower, but I’m way more upset by your not trusting me when I have done nothing to deserve this except sleeping with lots of people in the past. This is entirely unrelated to you and is only half of my sexual history but the only half that guys seem to judge me by.

Which brings me to the second reason… You really now how to kick me where it hurts: My deepest sexual fear is that no matter how much I give myself to someone sexually, they will always fear that underneath it all I am just a slut.

And the third… Guys who are sexually insecure project it on me and are, therefore, particularly toxic to me. I’ve been through this with many guys and it has always resulted in disaster. I see a guy making unfounded assumptions about how I feel about/could feel about him and what I am doing/want to be doing with other guys as the biggest red flag possible and I’d like to spare myself from getting involved in a situation where inevitably I’m the one who gets hurt. You don’t believe the shit I say to you so I wonder why we even talk. I thought I’ve been honest with you, and you agree with this in some regards, but you don’t know how to take a compliment and reinterpret everything nice I say. Either you discount it entirely (e.g., my saying I have been taking a break from sex, and your assuming I was just saying that to make you feel special), or you change the meaning of the compliment (e.g., my saying that you were good with your mouth, and your assuming that I was commending you for your attentiveness.) It is stupid and nothing else that you don’t believe that you are good in bed and don’t understand why that would be the case. Um, statistically speaking some people have to be good. I assume you would believe that you are better at some things/more talented than other people in some regards and worse at some things/less talented than other people in other regards. Sex is nothing special. And this is all very weird to me because my initial impression was that you are confident sexually. You claim not to care what the girl has done and that what she has done compared to you doesn’t impact whether or not you feel sexually fulfilled/like you have tried everything you want. You are comfortable being naked/physically. But then you don’t think people want you/have a reason to want you/would even be turned on by watching you have sex. It’s kind of depressing, I think you are kind of pathetic, and I thought you were way hotter before you revealed all of your sexual insecurities and I realized that your sex life has been governed by fears rather than desires. And now I just wonder, why would anyone want to fuck someone like that—someone who doesn’t think he is desirable? Looks only go so far. I wanted to hook up with you, not nurse your wounds.

Issue #3) “You’ve certainly told me about things you didn’t like, and my response was to modify my behavior.  If you’re concerned about something in this regard, you should definitely let me know, in no uncertain terms.” I’m a little confused about this, because I only remember complaining to you about 1) your apologizing/acting grossed out after you cum, and 2) your asking me “Is everything alright?” after I decline your sexual advances. There hasn’t been a chance yet for you to alter your behavior, but yes I would assume that this would be any reasonable person’s response. But there is a fundamental difference between my sexual complaints and your sexual complaints: My complaint was constructive criticism on discreet issues. The apologizing thing, at least, you were doing for an effect and you were not getting the intended effect, so it made sense for me to tell you to stop doing it. Also, to clarify that issue a little bit, it is true that part of my complaint was about how you treat cum, but part of it is about general self-awareness/inability to relax and lose yourself in sex, which is pretty much the best part of sex, physical pleasure and thrill aside. It drove me sort of crazy how last time when we were lying in bed post-coitally, you asked me, “what?” when all I was doing was looking at you. You seem to be concerned with showering, etc. afterwards and sexual initiation is always unduly awkward (which is partially because we don’t touch non-sexually). So it is a spontaneity vs. self-monitoring issue along with a cum issue. Like, you should not be thinking about the damage while/directly after you orgasm. In any event, I told you in no uncertain terms what I didn’t like about the sex because it wasn’t offensive/hurtful, was easily fixable, and wasn’t fundamental to the sex. The only thing I said to you that could be construed as at all offensive is that you take too long thing but I was hoping that you’d say you were holding off, which would make it a fixable issue and an issue that only existed because of a lack of communication. But what you told me is that you don’t like the tone of sex, which is essentially just saying that you think the sex sucks. Oh well. It wasn’t supposed to be sexual sharing time. Not to sound like a dude, but I really don’t want to hear what is going wrong if there isn’t a solution. Plus, in general I think it’s too early to worry about the sex, because mechanically it is pretty good (which I don’t say to everyone) and, like I said, I assume these things get better with time and a little work. I think we actually need to spend more time hooking up/exploring each other’s bodies without having sex, so we can learn each other’s bodies better. That would also make it seem less goal-oriented. I guess it is just sort of hard for me to not have sex with you pretty much every time I see you because we don’t see each other often. But, in an ideal situation, I wouldn’t want to have sex with someone every time we hooked up.

Issue #4) More about this mechanical/lack of affection issue: It takes two to have an issue like this, and I’m not sure why you are blaming me. Sex is about interpersonal dynamics more than individuals. As I mentioned, you aren’t affectionate with me at all. Will we never feel/demonstrate affection for one another? I don’t know. It is possible that it is a personality type incompatibility thing. The guys I’m naturally, madly attracted to are all ENFPs. They are puppy dogs; they make horrible boyfriends. I am too old to deal with people like that. But we are great in bed together because they bring me out of my shell and I respond to them. I am excited by them/connect with them in a more visceral way. They are sweet and charming, and I get attached to them. I’m not sure if putting two introverts is a recipe for disaster sexually, might just be a problem in terms of going out, but we just sit at home together, anyway. Putting two thinkers together might not work, though. I’m not sure I’ve ever dated someone who wasn’t more touchy-feely before so I’m not sure if after a while things between us will feel stoic and dead. Personality types that are viscerally attractive to me come at an expense, because they tend to include negative characteristics like effusiveness, impracticality, unreliability, over-spontaneity, etc. It is impossible to construct the perfect guy and I’m not sure exactly which pieces are critical to me. So, yes, effectively I think you are “just good enough” for me, but I’m not sure there is really anyone better. Lastly, in terms of the mechanical issue being part of our dynamic, rather than about me, things are very mechanical/goal-oriented because you put so much orgasm pressure on me. I’ve already complained about this, but you persist. You treat sex like it is some kind of puzzle, and that makes it less fun for me. Then after last time we had sex you said something like “You are so hard to crack,” which is just kinda offensive in addition to being annoying. It isn’t often that I have to complain about a guy focusing on me too much physically, but you treat sex like it is your job. And half of the time you seem totally disengaged. I wish we could focus more on you. After last time when I asked if I was always going to get off first, you said you thought it was better that way. Did I ask for that? No. Another reason it seems mechanical is it takes you so long I get bored. And I’d really prefer you came first. It’s more exciting for me that way and takes the pressure off me. Although I have to say that I’m not thrilled by the prospect that you’ll never want a round 2.

Okay, I’m done. I’m bored writing. There are a few other things, but they are minor, mechanical, and sort of incidental.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jake responded with an extensive, 5-point e-mail broken down into an introduction and the following sections:

A.  The Sex is Mechanical

B.  I Am Not Sexually Insecure

C.  Any Pressure You Feel to Orgasm is Imagined or Self-Imposed

D.  I’m Allowed to Have Sexual Preferences

E.  I Trust You

For hilarious quotations from each section, as well as my exhaustive (unsent) response, refer to “Fling Flung, Part 4: The Wrap-Up.”

I was torn. One thing was clear: The sex may very well not work. I stayed up all night contemplating my options, wondering whether I wanted to stick it out a few more weeks or whether it was time to wistfully cut my loses. I decided to sleep on it. Either way, the sex as an impediment needed to be discussed imminently. Before I made a hasty decision on other matters, this is the pressing point I decided to address. I felt as if other matters were contingent upon it.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

GENIE:

Ick. This might be even worse. I’m not sure the sex is going to work.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

I was blindsided when I woke up to his swift and piercing response (to my unfinished thought):

“‘Ick’ is precisely what I would expect from a twenty-six year old child who still suckles from mommy’s teat. Though, I suppose your infantile response is somewhat understandable, considering you’ve just been notified you simply aren’t so good at the only thing that defines you.”

With one last, jabbing sentence he put me out to pasture (that’s where unicorns live, right?), I mean, kicked me to the curb:

“In all honesty, good luck finding somebody who will take you with even a modicum of seriousness.  I imagine you’re more likely to run into a pornj unicorn than such a mythical creature.”

What do you do when your time is up before you’ve been given a chance to state your case, when you’ve received a response to an unfinished thought and are told it is your last?

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

That evening…

G: If i elaborated on my one sentence response, which i was planning on doing in a conciliatory manner before reading your parting email, would you bother…

J: Whatever you want

G: reading it, or should i just fuck off and die and hope to meet a unicorn?

J: Just send the email.

G: Well in my view this is an issue of compatibility and nothing else. i do like most things about you and im not going to pretend otherwise just because…

G: you are apparently done with me and cant take me seriously. so id like a chance to explain. but if you aren’t going to consider what i have to say, I don’t…

J: I’ll consider whatever you say.

J: Without such banalities as ‘ick’

G: need to have the last word for personal validation

J: I’m sure you do

G: If you want me to write you bc you actually take me seriously i will. but if you are going to be snarky and dismissive i can fuck off. its as easy as that.

J: ‘I take you seriously.’ Just send it.

G: Fine i need to sleep badly but well talk tomorrow. goodnight.

J: Grand

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The next evening at 2:30 am…

G: Are you still awake?

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The following morning…

J: If you want to send an email, send an email. I’m not going to have a drawn out text exchange with you like I’m some tween.

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