i'm no sexpert, but...

uh-oh. delena's on her soapbox again.

okay, so i've been wanting to comment on this for a few days. there was a customer at the salon the other day who made some remark as i was checking in his dog for grooming. we always have to ask about health conditions, medications, sedation, pregnant or nursing females, flea and tick treatment, and whether the customer's dog has been neutered or spayed. it doesn't matter if this particular dog comes in every six weeks like clockwork. we have to ask the same questions every single time.

it gets to be a speech by rote.

but instead of just saying, "yeah, he's been neutered," this guy makes an innocuous comment and he's laughing, but it was just something that could be taken several different ways, y'know? and all i could do is just look at him as if to say, "oh my Funky Wow, i can't believe you just said that." but i looked at the petite, slender woman standing next to him with her limp, dark brown hair and birdlike manner and couldn't help but feel sorry for her. i mean, after a comment like that from her husband, i had to wonder how many nights she'd lain on her back composing grocery lists while staring at the ceiling, y'know?

actually, i felt very strongly sorry for her because i've been there. remember that fantasy message board where i used to write? well, i composed some of my best posts while staring at the ceiling, and big *c* never had a clue. then again, he was an oblivious oaf, but that's neither here nor there...

it's just...argh! what is it about people that makes them think they're the gods' gift? i mean, i see it in both genders, but particularly in men, and sometimes i just want to scream, "THE WORLD DOES NOT REVOLVE AROUND YOUR COCK!"

but i don't, of course. when *a* and i were seeing each other years ago, i actually did tell him this. i told him this for months, and then he wondered why i lay there like a brain-damaged cephalopod. i didn't even bother to fake it anymore, the poor guy. i made him read the vagina monologues and the lesbian's guide to great sex, just to see if there was the remotest possibility that you could teach an old dog the basics.

*dies laughing* chalk it up to my hopeful optimism, i suppose. it's not that i'm jaded or cynical about sex, honestly. i'm really quite open, dynamic, playful, and funny. actually, sex is funny. it's dang hilarious. at some point, someone is going to fall off a bed, hit their head on a lamp, accidentally kick a midget or trip over a goat. it's how you handle it that's makes all the difference!

it's when you start taking yourself too seriously that it all goes to hell. and guys, sheesh! for cryin' out loud, the world doesn't revolve around your cock! how many people out there are missing out on an explosively immense payload of treasure because they're forgetting to coax out all the little sparkly charms of their partner's pleasure? who cares if you finish too soon, or don't finish at all? there are hours of erotic fun on the vast playground of a woman's body! or maybe they're not forgetting, but just plain lazy?

that's definitely a possibility.

i mean, i know i've got a slow burn. not as long as some, but still, you ain't getting anything out of me without investing a good bit of time, y'know? it's one thing when everything's all shiny and new. i'm not counting that. new relationship thrill is lust, and directly proportionate to how long two people have drawn out the sexual tension. we could be talking clash of the titans for a few months, and hey, there's nothing wrong with that! so you get stitches, wrap your sprained joints, rub clove oil on those sore muscles, and move on. replace any furniture that might've gotten broken, make cookies for the neighbors whose sleep you disturbed four nights running, and it's all good. unless, of course, your new year's resolution was to make all your neighbors hate you, in which case pat yourself on the back for a job well done!

but WTF is it about sex being so phallocratic? has the male member dominated sex now? and once he's done and she's still all wound up, what then? physiologically speaking, he's ready to roll over and take a nap, oblivious to the fact she's lying not two feet away contemplating homicide. but that can't be the case, otherwise lesbians wouldn't have any fun, and we KNOW that's not true! lesbians are some of the most sexually fulfilled people i know.

i dunno. maybe it's about education, knowing what you like and what you're capable of. maybe it's about courage, gaining the ability to demand your needs are met, and demanding to know which of your partner's needs you're able to meet as well. there's certainly an element of comfort and self-esteem, because how can you enjoy something so intimately personal if you aren't even comfortable in your own skin? how, then, could you rub up on someone else's skin and really, fully enjoy the experience?

because remember, the multiverse was created, and it was good. that means it was ALL good! the Jiggy Snake went, "Wee!" meaning it's all delightful! and this includes sex! all manner of sex, not just phallocratic, the-penis-is-the-center-of-the-universe sex. BOOOORING!! naw, we're talking fully interactive, noisy, tender, playful, serious, ten-minutes-up-against-a-wall and four-amazing-hours-in-the-hot-tub kind of everything.

but it's not all men's fault for being so egocentric. they can't help themselves, the poor dears. honestly, chicas, just how much do we really know about ourselves? c'mon. don't you know you hold way more cards than the guys do??? like for instance, here's a clever little tidbit i never get tired of sharing with people: everyone knows the clitoris is the only organ of the human body --male or female-- designed for no other purpose than pleasure. rock on. but did you know it has eight thousand nerve fibers? that's a vastly higher concentration of nerve fibers found anywhere else in the body, from fingers to the tongue to that little spot on the small of your back that shoots tingles up your spine whenever someone tickles you there. and it's twice --TWICE-- the number in the penis.


who needs a six-shooter when you've got a fully automatic?

the highest concentration of nerves in the vagina only inhabit the first inch or so, maybe less, right at the entrance. translation: the majority of women find the in-and-out-grind boring as all get-out! and yet who's taking their sexual fate into their own hands? do you know the secret to being the world's greatest lover? here it is: the world's greatest lovers ask lots of questions! i'm serious! there's nothing sexier than someone who will actually ask what i like, what i want, how i react...all those things out of a genuine need to know. there's almost no other way to discover those little secrets about me. i mean, yeah, i'm a slow burner, but i'm really a pretty straightforward girl, which makes it mind-bogglingly amazing that i've had so much terrible sex and finally gave up on it completely. and i can hold a slow burn all day. you want me to see the face of god? fuck my mind first, then get started on the rest of me. of course, this means you have to actually be intelligent enough to be able to fuck my mind... find out what's gotta be done to make me go from a measley firecracker on the fourth of july before the sun's gone down...to The Roman Candle of Rapid-Fire Infinity.

and people completely miss this?! how on the Funk's green earth can anyone miss this?!!?! how could anyone think that penis-in-the-vagina sex is the end all and be all of fulfilling sex? if anything, it's like a handshake.

sex is everything else...the breathing: the little gasps and moans from your lover that become so familiar and even more incredibly a turn-on the more familiar they become. it's the hand down the flank, tracing the curve of waist and the flare of hip. it's gripping hips like handles and listening to the sound like applause whenever your bodies slam together. it's finding the battle scars the next morning and grinning like an idiot, the sense of comfort and satisfaction knowing you're wearing a physical mark of your lover's presence everywhere you go. it's the feeling of blood boiling, and the sense of coming home. it's learning your lover so well, you get to the point where you can play them like a maestro. and, i imagine, it's the warm softness of surrendering the most vulnerable part of you and knowing it's safe, but i wouldn't know about that one yet.

there's another thing i've never experienced before, so perhaps someone else out there can share...but i've heard it only gets better after the lust and new excitement's over, and life has mellowed and ripened by love. i can only imagine it's true...

so yeah. the world revolves around so much more.

i have spoken.