If you think there’s nothing more demoralizing and nerve-racking to a woman than having to come up with some bullshit dirty talk in bed, then maybe you’ve never been subjected to having to talk like a life coach in between the sheets (though the “men” you gravitate toward probably don’t even have sheets, as they’re all musicians). To have to tell someone what he should already be confident in as it stands, or at least feign the confidence in such a way as to make the woman he’s entering at least faintly feel like she’s having a good time.
But no, “men” always seem to ask, in an almost Ed Koch reminiscent manner, “How’m I doing?” As though your instruction is going to be used not on you, but in the future on some other girl who will most likely be younger and dumber and yet still somehow get the benefit of all the helpful hints you gave to this flailing panisse with a vague body attached. And as he continues to ensure he’s pleasuring you in just the right way instead of actually pleasuring you, you’ll eventually succumb to pulling a Romy and start screaming incongruous assurances and lies about his velvety touch and throbbing thrillhammer. You are America and he’s really just kind of pillaging you to find out what works best for others, not discovering you.
While those with large hands (and not the odious small kind that are lacking the potential for ten extra dicks) might have a strange tendency to display a predilection for the finger bang in bed, there’s something to be said for the “man” who overly prefers sticking his fingers into a generally private orifice. It tells you either 1) he is insecure about using his actual puh-neese or 2) he probably secretly hates women and wants to stamp their pussy out into oblivion with his fingers.
On the one “hand,” sure, it might initially come across as a nice gesture (literally) for a “man” to be so seemingly concerned with your ability to cum that he’s willing to drive himself to the point of near carpal tunnel. But what is actually going on is rarely so cut and dried (unlike your presumably damp vag). In truth, the psychosis behind the “man” who favors the finger bang is far more disturbing, because, yes, there is a large part of him that wants to go all Patrick Bateman on it.
While sexual experimentation is the spice of life (particularly when you’re dealing with the type of basiques that populate most of North Brooklyn), there is something overt about the motives of two male friends who enjoy tag teaming a woman.
These “men” are actually into each other
For one thing, this isn’t Muriel’s Wedding (which you should probably see to complete your knowledge of 90s kitsch cinema) and the woman involved in the tag team rarely actually enjoys herself. Like most sexual notions, the idea of being boned by two “men” is more delightful in theory than in practice. On some level, the woman partaking knows she’s merely the cursory buffer standing in between two friends’ homosexual love for one another. And yet, the “feminist” within her feels that women deserve to be double-teamed just as much as “men.” Alas, she’ll only end up on the outside looking in with a sore vag and no orgasm to speak of. And after, the two “men” in question will simply find another female to tag team so that they don’t let on to the same woman how much they truly relish one another’s bodies.
As Kevin Spacey in American Beauty so very succinctly illustrated, “men” have a natural tendency toward the crass, rude behavior of masturbating in bed next to a woman. Not only is this indicative of a “man’s” base needs/inability to control his sexual urges, but also a blatant lack of consideration for the body next to his.
This is how interested a woman is in having sex after waking up to a “man” masturbating next to her
The heedlessness and disrespect works on a two-pronged level: 1) it is disruptive to a woman’s sleep and 2) it is indicative that you’d rather fuck yourself than an actual vagina (though this is, admittedly, preferable to sleep rape)–or perhaps your “dick” is merely not sizable enough to fit into the vagina in the first place. Perchance, the best way to fulfill your disgraceful masturbation needs is to release your load quietly in the bathroom, so as to maintain some modicum of dignity. And maybe a better question to ask yourself is: Would Humphrey Bogart or Gary Cooper masturbate in bed next to a woman? No. And neither should you.
Some may think I’ve gone too far this time in terms of addressing what I feel constitutes the dickless “man.” But regardless, I would like to talk to you today about sleep rape–a far grosser offender than normal rape in that the woman who is a victim of it cannot even adequately prepare herself for the oncoming unwanted thrusts. States of sleep can be classified as both normal sleep patterns or alcohol/drug-induced serenity.
Rohypnol: Williamsburg’s drug of choice
When a “man” takes advantage of sleep rape, he is not only advertising that he can’t get laid in normal circumstances, but that he can’t even be bothered to put up with a woman’s physical struggle in the case of rape. Moreover, a woman’s wetness (pending she’s over the age of 21) is at its least optimal while in a slumber-induced coma (see: Kill Bill Vol. 1). So basically, you’re a double deviant for both forcing yourself on another body and not even allowing that body a proper chance to resist. But what’s to be expected when Rohypnol is the drug of choice in Williamsburg?
While OKCupid is pretty embarrassing (as we’ve discussed before), it can’t compare to the utter shame I feel for men who freely use How About We and propose gay (in the purest sense of the word) date ideas like going to Berry Park and listening to some bull shit DJ. It’s a very unabashed form of wanton behavior that also showcases how banal your interests are.
And while women should be equally as ashamed to partake of this service, it is somewhat expected for them to be on this level of desperation considering the unfathomable female to male ratio in New York. Because men in Williamsburg are undercover lazy, How About We (based in nearby Dumbo) is a way for them to prove how smart, attentive and considerate they are. But really, it’s just a more elaborate way to procure some vagina for the night.