My sexuality is not a play I’m putting on for you.

I’m so very tired of men thinking women should change up their sexual responses to suit what men want to see or experience. So very, very tired.

This attitude is rampant all over FetLife but, more to the point, The Pedant and I had a bit of an incident last night.

I’ll just report the whole visit for posterity, as I do. Then I’ll have more to say about the annoying bit.

I’m almost sad that Minx beat The Pedant to the punch with regards to relieving a bunch of my need to be touched. It might have been nice to experience that big emotional release with the man I’m in love with, and to be able to top it off with sex. But it’s not that big a deal and The Pedant doesn’t quite seem to understand how to give me braingasms anyway so he may not have been able to get me where I needed to go like Minx can.

When he arrived and began the ritual of undressing and stowing his clothes in a bag, he started riffing on the topic of public transit and how it’s funded and why my city’s transit has been so unreliable and shitty lately. Even once he was naked, he remained leaning nonchalantly against the wall of my hallway and telling me allllllll about tax dollars and jurisdictions and what various mayors of the city have accomplished throughout history. He’d told me ahead of time that he would want to shower as soon as he arrived, but he made no move to do so. And I was so burned out and underslept that really, I couldn’t follow any of his speechifying at all and the sound of his voice was starting to bug me.

Rather than cut him off verbally, I opted to walk over to him and start kissing my way up his bare shoulder to his neck as he continued talking. This gradually slowed and then stopped his mouth-noises, aside from the occasional soft little moan. I moved my attentions up to his mouth, and after kissing him for a while murmured “Go shower.” He didn’t move. I kissed him some more and prompted “Seriously, go hose yourself down.” Finally he turned and walked into the bathroom, looking kind of dazed and with an erection that pronged straight out from his body (an erection I had been previously unaware of because I hadn’t been pressed that closely against him). I love that he can get hard just from me kissing him for a couple of minutes and maybe running my hand up and down his side.

When he came out, I was waiting for him naked in bed. For days I’d been picturing how this would go down: I thought I would collapse into the foetal position and ask him to pet my back and he would and I’d have a release-cry and then probably feel a million times better and immediately fuck him.

But things didn’t quite come together. Minx had taken the edge off me with her pettings earlier and The Pedant wasn’t quite touching me the way I wanted him to. I straddled him so he could reach around me and apply both hands to the task. It felt nice, and occasionally I sensed a little shimmer going through my brain like maybe something was building, but it never materialized and I’m not entirely sure why. But every time I moaned, I felt The Pedant’s now semi-erect cock twitch against my leg, which was gratifying. He’s so workmanlike when he gets me off, and never erect during that process, so for a long time I’d been under the assumption that he gives me orgasms because it’s the polite thing to do but he’s not actually that into it per se. But I’m beginning to realize that my pleasure does turn him on.

Mid-pet, he reached between us and positioned his cock to go inside me. I felt that in that particular moment, sex would distract from the braingasm I was trying to achieve from all the back-touching, but it seemed like that wasn’t going anywhere anyway so I figured what the hell. I rode him for a little while, but then I dismounted for a second to fetch and apply the vibrating cock ring he’d bought me a while back (just the sound of me opening the drawer to get it made him do that tiny little gasp thing he does, btw…). I remembered that one time that a braingasm almost turned into an orgasm while we were fucking. I thought that maybe, if I added a vibrator to the mix…Although, The Pedant’s fingers stroking my back weren’t having nearly the effect they normally do so this was a big-time logic fail on my part.

The vibration of the ring transferred up through The Pedant’s entire cock, which wasn’t noticeable once he was inside me but when I first positioned the tip at my front door I could really feel it and it was kind of awesome. As I began fucking him again he murmured “I want you to come while I’m inside you. You know how much I love making you come.”

“Uh-huh. Well that’s not putting any pressure on me,” I said sarcastically. But I did grind up against the ring to see how far I could get, since that had been my plan anyway. The vibration was nice but didn’t get me too close to orgasm at all, and sometimes if I shifted the wrong way the vibrator landed too directly on my clit and was uncomfortable. Also, for me to get off I need a forward-and-back sort of grinding motion and The Pedant loses his erection incredibly fast if I’m not thrusting up and down, so I felt I needed to switch back and forth rather than just full-out trying for an orgasm.

Then I gave up on coming for a while and just settled into the kind of thrusting and nipple play that The Pedant really likes. Watching his reactions was more fun for me than concentrating on my uncooperative clit, anyway. But after a while of that he whispered “Please don’t make me come yet. I want you to come first -” Ooooh, hot “- while I’m inside you.”

Goddammit. Srsly?

I said, “If you want me to come with you inside me, the best way is for me to be on my back and using the Hitachi. I can lie sideways with my ass slightly off the bed and you can kneel on the floor, basically sitting upright, to give me room to maneuver.”

“Hmmm…let’s just practice with this, then.”

Ah. So it’s not so much that he wanted me to come while he was inside me, it’s that he wanted me to come while he lay there putting in zero effort. This is not about intimacy or giving me a good time so much as it’s about him wanting to add a sexy little show to our normal intercourse routine. By coming in a way I hadn’t before. On a day that I was super stressed and overtired and he knew this.

I made a mental note to address The Pedant’s slight asshattery later, and went back to alternately grinding and thrusting. Practice is the only way I’ll ever get off in new ways, if I’m even capable of that anymore. But then I started to feel a bit pissed off. Because if he understood that I wouldn’t be able to orgasm that day from that stimulation – he just wanted to “practice” so it might happen someday – it meant he was fine with the fact that he would probably come first and I’d be most likely left to my own devices as he fell into his post-coital stupor.

So I abruptly said “nope, me first,” dismounted, turned off the cock ring and eased it off him, and passed him my dildo. “You know what I like. Kneel between my legs, it’ll probably be easier.” The Pedant obediently knelt between my legs and dildo-fucked me while I got myself off via Hitachi. I lay there for a while, hands to my face, recovering. The Pedant stayed where he was.

Finally I told him, “Come. Here.” He very slowly sat up on his knees and hesitated as though he wasn’t sure what I actually wanted him to do. I wrapped my legs around his torso and physically yanked him so that he gasped and fell forward onto his hands and knees on top of me. I reached between us; he’d gone soft. I jerked him hard and then used my legs to pull him closer to me again. He found his way back inside me and we fucked some more. When he came, he pancaked his full weight down on me so that I couldn’t move my hips or touch his nipples to try to get another little shudder out of him. Boo-urns.

Then he rolled off me, gathered me into his arms, and we slept. Or, he slept. I kind of half-dozed. I don’t know why I couldn’t sleep properly; I’d been so very tired for so long, and I’d just gotten laid. Maybe I was still pissed over the whole trying-to-dictate-my-orgasms thing.

After about three hours I woke up with a bad headache and needed to get up for a bit. I fucked around on the internet, took a sleeping pill and a pain reliever, and made myself some food. As I was scrambling some eggs and quietly singing Madonna’s Borderline under the impression that The Pedant was fast asleep at the other end of the apartment behind a closed door and with a fan on, he appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking kind of fuzzy and confused.

“I just got up to use the bathroom. Did you sleep?” He asked.

“Yeah, kind of. Not very well. Want some eggs?”

“No, I’ll just be using the bathroom and going back to bed.”

I kissed him and he wandered off.

He exited the bathroom as I was bringing my plate of eggs to the couch. “By the way,” I said, “Don’t tell me how much you want me to have orgasms via some method that’s totally new to me. That puts so much pressure on me.”

“Oh. Okay,” The Pedant said, and went back to bed. A few minutes later, after I finished my eggs, I joined him. He wasn’t quite ready to go to sleep again, I guess; he was both playing music and browsing the internet on his phone. When I came in, he turned the phone around to light my way across the room and then gathered his arm around me, as usual, so that my head went right to his chest. He often likes us to be really entwined, which I find wildly endearing; when I sorta hugged my bottom arm around myself to keep it out of the way, my hand encountered the hand of his arm that was wrapped around my back – and he immediately entwined our fingers together. My other arm rested on his chest, and once he set his phone aside he entwined those hands, too.


I’m not sure how long we lay there before he said “I am wide awake right now.”

“I’m not exactly sleeping, either,” I said. I started caressing his cock.

He said something like “Well if you keep going with that we definitely won’t get to sleep for a while.”

“Yeah, but it’ll make us sleepy…”

“I’m pretty sure I’m too spent from before.”

I withdrew my hand. “D’you wanna go into the other room and throw on a DVD or something?”

“Nah. Lying awake in the dark is more restful.”

And so we lay there. I did fall asleep, though not deeply. Through it all I could sense that he was wide awake, and I kept expecting him to get bored and leave the room or at least start surfing on his phone again, but he didn’t. I get the feeling he may have been sacrificing for my benefit. I’ve been quite clear with him that he’s a calming influence, I feel more rested when I sleep next to him, etc. And he knew I’d been tired and stressed out lately.

He did finally leave the room at some point, though, and I was actually fast enough asleep that I didn’t notice him go. I just opened my eyes at around 6:30, was surprised to find myself alone, and went back to sleep again until my alarm went off an hour later.

Sometime during the process of getting ready to leave (me for work, him for home) he revisited the orgasm thing again: “So you really feel pressured just from me saying I want you to have an orgasm?”


“I guess I’ll shut the fuck up about it, then.” His tone didn’t sound angry at all, but the gratuitous curse word makes me wonder. Although, he did end up riding most of the way to my gig with me for no practical reason that I could see. I like that he does this.

But here’s where I get super irritated: he still didn’t let the orgasm issue go.

I forgot to mention, at one point during the sex he flexed his Kegel muscles to make his cock buck inside me and it turned me on just ridiculously. So on my way home from work I texted him:

“When you flexed your cock inside me last night it totally imploded my brain. All through my shift I kept replaying the feeling and I’ve been dying to get home and come a bunch more times.” This was meant as a sexy compliment. I said it to titillate him. I think that’s probably obvious, right?

He responded with, “And yet it doesn’t make you come in and of itself.”

It wasn’t clear to me if he was talking about his Kegel maneuver not getting me off, or being amazed that thinking about it while I posed at work didn’t get me off. Either way, I felt kinda ragey but decided to try to keep my response low key: “No, something stimulating my clitoris does that. Why, can you orgasm without anything touching your cock? BECAUSE I WANNA SEE THAT.”

He said, “I was pressing a vibrating cock ring into said clitoris. I’d have expected that to do something.”

My rage burned a notch hotter. “It did do something: it felt nice. Y’know…when I get you off, you have a motion and speed and position(s) that work best for you. And SO DO I. I don’t know why this seems so difficult for you to grasp. But it often feels like you think any kind of clitoral contact should magically produce orgasms from a woman. And for most of us that’s not now it works.”

(Actually it’s not even that he thinks absolutely any kind of clitoral contact will get a woman off. He’s also said “I want to make you come” while fucking me without a vibrator or fingers attending to my clit at all. Basically I guess he just wants me to come magically on command for his viewing pleasure.)

“Fair enough,” The Pedant said, and I wish I could know whether he actually got what I was saying or if he was just being butthurt and wanting to end the conversation.

But I wasn’t done talking yet: “I’ve been practicing. I’ve been Hitachiing on my own while straddling a pillow, trying to remember how to come in that position. I used to be able to. Haven’t remastered the knack yet, and that’s on my own, without your (amazing) body in the mix distracting me.”

MOAR TALKING, a few minutes later: “Also, though? My sexual responses aren’t working like they used to (which I’ve told you numerous times, and which bothers me enough that I’ve made a litany of appointments with therapists and doctors to try to get to the bottom of it). I already feel broken. So when you’re all “I want you to come via this method that’s entirely unlike how you normally get off” – all casually, like it should be easy, clit plus vibe equals orgasms, right? – it kind of underscores that broken feeling. Tell me you like getting me off. As-is.”

“I do,” The Pedant texted back. “I didn’t mean for my saying that to come across as otherwise.”

“I figured. Just a tricky subject for me, is all. Tell me more things you like about our sexual encounters.” The Pedant clearly enjoys our sex, but he rarely says so in words. Which is fine, but I was wanting some words to counterbalance all his stupid shit about me orgasming wrong.

He hasn’t replied but I figure he’s probably just busy (or bashful about making sexytalk) and will probably say something eventually. I’m not mad about that.

am mad as fuck about the way he’s treating my sexuality as this thing he can mold to his liking.

Also, it just occurred to me: I’ve Hitachi’d myself a few times while riding The Pedant, and it usually starts to feel really good, but my grinding motion is not what he needs to stay hard, so he goes soft and slips out of me and that kills my momentum. And yet he always frames this shit as my problem. Ohhhh he wants me to come so much why can’t I come it would be so nice if I came. Well, I can’t come because you can’t stay hard long enough. How about that?

And his stupid, simplistic idea that I should be able to come any old way. He’s seen me get off like a thousand times by now. Always using the Hitachi, which is strong like a jackhammer plus I’m wiggling it rapidly back and forth. You would think this would be a big clue that I orgasm fastest and best (or maybe only) with very fast, firm, steady stimulation. And yet he’s baffled that I didn’t come from the cock ring, whose vibrations are substantially weaker. Sometimes he just kind of idly rolls my clit around between his fingers, and I assume it’s meant as foreplay, but then he’ll be like “So are you close?” and I just wanna facepalm.

And then there were the times we were fucking without any targeted clitoral stimulation at all and he started up with the whole “I want you to come” thing. Okay cool story bro I want a pony. I mean as long as we’re talking about wildly improbable things.

Expecting an external-clitoral-orgasms type of woman to get off from thrusty missionary sex is like if I looked in The Pedant’s eyes and breathily told him “I want you to come from this” and then patted him lightly on the penis with my open palm for ten minutes: the right area is kind of being touched, but too fleetingly and not with the right motion. Or maybe it would be like if I fucked his ass and told him to come just from that, without me touching his cock at all; some people can come just from internal stimulation, but he is not (or not yet) one of those people, and insisting that he orgasm in a whole new way right this second just because I want to see it is just a shitty, shitty thing to do.

And again I say: The Pedant has specific ways he likes to be stimulated. In the beginning, when I gave him a hand job at what I thought of as a standard pace, he repeatedly had to tell me to go slower; he likes a slower pace than most other guys I’ve known. I’ve adapted now and he doesn’t have to remind me anymore. And although he’s uncut, he still prefers to use lube, and if it starts to go sticky he’ll ask me to apply more. He’s explicitly told me that he comes harder when he’s on his back and tied up than he does fucking me missionary style. I’m fairly sure he usually jerks off with both hands, and prefers me to jerk him off with both hands, too. HE HAS PREFERENCES.

And yet with me, even though he’s only ever seen me orgasm while on my back with my legs straight out and the Hitachi applied to my clitoral shaft just so, he’s:

He’s seen me get myself off. He’s seen that my technique doesn’t vary even a little bit. Logically, then, the best way for him to make me come would probably be to replicate the circumstances of those self-administered orgasms as closely as possible. What is so goddamned difficult about that? Why is he allowed to have preferences in bed but I’m supposed to go off like a rocket at literally anything we do that involves my genitals?

And, I mean, I’m not totally just relying on his powers of observation, here. I have straight-up told him “I can’t really orgasm unless I’m on my back and my legs are out. G-spot stimulation enhances clitoral stuff, for me, but it’s the clitoral stuff that makes me come. My ‘sweet spot’ is above the tip of my clit, through the hood. I don’t like the tip touched directly; it hurts. I need fast, steady stimulation.” I’ve told him all of these things multiple times, together and separately. And still he suggests that I stand behind him and peg him and then asks “did you come during any of that?”

Also, even if I am broken and all the other ladies get off from all the things ever, how is it helpful for him to repeatedly tell me that he wants me to come when I can’t? Ironically, The Pedant himself has had issues with me in the past with not being able to stay hard and/or not being able to come. I graciously ignored the issues and just focused on the two of us having fun. Do you think if I’d chosen instead to chant “I want you to come” over and over while flogging his limp dick, he would magically have come and totally not felt pressured or defective? Come on.

The fucking audacity men have, asking women to orgasm differently. Like it’s this thing we can just change up to suit other people’s needs, rather than a goddamned reflexive response to certain stimulation. I’ve probably said this before but if women tried to customize men’s orgasms the way men do with us…I don’t even think the men would feel angry or put upon. I think they’d just feel baffled. “But…this is how I come.”


“Oh yeah babe that sex was hot. Although, can I just say, when you ejaculate, your semen just kinda burbles out and runs down the side of your dick. Do you ever, like, shoot? My ex shot halfway across the room when he came. It was pretty awesome. Are you sure you can’t do that? Also, I really want you to come while I’m pegging you. Like, just from the pegging, without me touching your dick at all. Lots of people do, you know. My ex did. And like a zillion guys in porn. And also I want you to spontaneously come while you’re going down on me. What do you mean stimulating my genitals isn’t enough to get you off? Just try, okay? For me.”

For the record, I do want The Pedant to come just from pegging sometime. Hands-free orgasms are a huge kink of mine. But he’s fairly new to ass stuff and hasn’t seemed too close to coming from it so far, and I know better than to go on and on about how awesome it would be if his body did this thing it may not be able to do. That’s just gonna feel like pressure. How could it not?

Sometimes a person can learn to orgasm a different way with practice. But making that into some huge goal while simultaneously not really holding up your end of things* is not helpful. What’s helpful is acting as a team with your partner. Asking what they need and doing it, because teamwork! Focusing on the fun you’re having right now, not on how much fun you could have if only their body responded differently. Etc.


*Like oh for instance going soft whenever your partner tries to use the Hitachi on herself during sex, or not being able to keep up a strong rhythm during cunnilingus for longer than thirty seconds…


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2 responses to “My sexuality is not a play I’m putting on for you.

  1. Leah


    I love the way you have perfectly captured and worded my feelings on the matter. I want to print this out to read to guys I fuck.

    I. Cannot. Orgasm. From. Penetration.

    I do not fucking care how many other women had “multiple orgasms” from any number of ways they were fucked by you, guy, but I will *never* orgasm from that way. It’s like they think their specific dick is magical and my body will suddenly realize the error of its ways.

    Even guys that I consider intelligent, rational, thoughtful, and otherwise human beings who can hear the words I tell them will describe scenes to me in which I come multiple times while being fucked. EVEN AFTER I have explained that this will not occur, and it will ALSO not occur no matter how much they try to touch my clit at the same time.

    And don’t even get me started on guys who ask if I’ve come. IF YOU HAVE TO ASK, I DIDN’T. Period.

    I don’t use toys usually when I masturbate, so I’ve begun demonstrating with my hand the speed and pressure I need to orgasm. This has been noted by at least one male partner, who was like, “Wow, you really need it fast and consistent”.. like, YEAH. It’s the only way to make it happen.

    Either you are not broken, or you and I are broken together, because sister, this is my LIFE. The current men in my life at least are not openly disappointed that I won’t come from penetration and are happy to go down on me until I orgasm (which is the only way I’ve ever come from another person), even when my anxietybrain tries to distract me and it takes a lot longer than I anticipated, they are ready and willing to keep going. Thank god.

    I lol’d more than once at your “equivalent” what-if-I-did-this-to-The-Pedant scenarios. Like seriously.

  2. Pingback: Grrrrrr | hiding in plain sight

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