Patti Stanger has it right. I’m not proud to admit taking advice from a reality television star. On second thought, I would have to be practicing no sex before monogamy to be “taking it,” so technically I’m just “admiring” her advice. That woman knows what she’s talking about. No Sex before Monogamy. It’s the kind of statement that makes women believe in magic, and men cringe at the possibility of follow through. But its science. Sexual science.
Its a simple formula, one we ladies are very familiar with:
≤3‰?→Dick is connected to brain.→ Brain wants dick to be happy.→ Brain tricks woman into making dick happy. →Brain and dick move on.
There is a flaw in the formula though, and the lovely Ms. Stanger has figured it out. It looks something like this:
≥8‰?→Dick is connected to brain.→ Brain wants dick to be happy.→ Woman plays hard to get. →Dick subsides, brain is intrigued. →Brain falls in love. ♥
I’m embarrassed to admit I know the correct formula, but like a young Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting, I am still a janitor not living up to my full potential. I was on the right track though. Hadnt had sex for a couple of months, got back into self help books, and vowed that the next guy I slept with would have potential for being the “one.” I marveled at my phone that never rang, my lack of interested qualified men, and my new frequent masturbation schedule. All by my choice! The choice to build a better, albeit more socially pathetic existence. I caught up on episodes of Millionaire Matchmaker, and pretended like Patty was talking to me.
“No sex before monogamy! No IN, No IN, and no IN,” she would yell at me as she pointed to her mouth, crotch and ass.
“I can do that! No one is getting IN!” I’d concede, wondering if people really had anal sex on the first date. Its not really my thing, but isnt that something you have to prepare for? I wouldn’t really know, but anal in porn looks real clean, too clean. I’m rightfully suspect.
Then a man came along and challenged Patty and my new found life of “No In.” He was older than me, charming, boyish, and absolutely smitten with me. He called a mutual friend to ask about me, gushed to her, nervously pursued me. Sent pictures, romantic texts, and spent hours on the phone with me. Would sneak flowers to me at work, and made impromtu visits when I least expected it. He was almost perfect…until we fucked.
Let me back up. Before we had sex, this man was crazy about me. Foot rubs, kisses all over my body, sweet nothings in my ear. The man even said “I cant wait to have you sit on my face.” Now where I come from, these are not the words of a selfish man. These are the words of a man who is going to worship your body for months to come. That pun was too easy, as easy as it was going to be to actually come.
He was great, and I was going to finally get the attention and affection from a real man that I was so in need of. Even though it was a bit soon, I took the plunge, I let him IN. He got 2 out of 3 In’s, a pretty good ratio. We had sex twice, good solid dependable sex. The next morning he starts the awkward guy after sex routine. I give it little thought, and float the rest of my day on a sex cloud. We see eachother the next night, and even though I have proclaimed my sleepiness after my 15 hour work night, he continues to push me for sex.
You know what I hate about being a woman? Being a woman.
It comes with a lot of bullshit responsibilities, in and out of the bedroom. Womens rights my ass. We got the right to vote, and in this country, people cant legally own us as property anymore. Hate to break it to you, but thats about it. Of course men will come back with the whole independence argument.
“Women can work as CEO’s, run businesses, become rich.”
And still come home to our obligations of massaging your ego and sucking your dick. Sure I get paid less, cant get the good jobs you’re offered, can get on 3 different trains without one dude getting up to offer their seat to me. Yea, that right to vote worked out great for us. I wish we could give it back, and get gentleman back in exchange.
So he pushes me for sex and I give in. Why? Because if I dont, he will act like a damaged little boy who needs comfort. Five minutes of vagina usage is easier for both of us. I’m sure its doing emotional damage that I will need to work out in therapy one day. A conversation that will go somewhere along the lines of why I dont feel loved unless my value as a human being is linked directly to sex. But thats ok, as long as you can go to sleep without a boner.
The next morning he’s weird again, a pattern I am not becoming fond of. Even with a homeade breakfast, and a fresh coffee from the bodega, he still cant get his head together enough to be a decent human being. Later I get a few bullshit sporadic texts throughout the day, and I am already foreseeing where this is going. We are heading straight into scared little boy territory.
The next day is Friday, and we are supposed to have plans that evening. With both of our crazy work schedules, it’s difficult for us to find the time. I get some strange text in the morning asking me how Im doing. I’m fine asshole, what happened to the cute texts? I dont hear from him the entire day. I resist the urge to text or call. I go out with my girlfriend, get day drunk and talk shit about him. He doesnt write until 11:30pm. He asks how my day was. Essentially he is also asking for an ass kicking. You made plans with me, flake, with not so much as an apology or explanation? Now my wheels are really spinning. You selfish little prick. Come to think of it, you never did ask me to sit on your face once we did start having sex. And I sure as hell never got that foot rub either!
I dont text him for 2 days. He makes no contact. I’m 32 years old, and forced to play high school games. I’m bummed I gave up two months of no sex for this selfish dick, who cant man up and just tell me what the deal is. Granted he doesnt need to say what it is, because I already know. He’s a boy. He thought he wanted one thing, a real woman, with something to offer. Then when I came along and put my cards on the table he realized a woman would never be interested in a boy. So he ran. He ran as soon as he realized that he could never live up to what I deserved. He knew I deserved better, and he was right. I just wish I had figured it out before he did.
Since moving to New York I have made an effort to not be physically shallow. In a city full of male models everywhere you turn, I challenged myself to look deeper. To start considering men I didnt think were my “type.” To open myself up to the possibility of love in an unexpected place. Do you know where its gotten me?
Nowhere. I am getting rejected by guys whos bodies are ravaged by years of chain smoking, and hard city life. Guys who I could beat in a push up contest. Men who dont even have the courtesy to trim their pubic hair. I almost choked on one of his. Men with wild pubic hair are rejecting me, and this does not sit well. Neither here, nor in my throat.
So back to you Patty, and your loophole formula. Until I actually do sit on a face, No IN, No IN, No IN!