I don’t care if Mrs Robinson taught you cunnilingus techniques when you were still in university.

First, understand me. Understand my body. Understand how it connects with my mind. I’m not a servant of my own anatomy, so no amount of technical skill will ever be enough. I don’t care if Mrs Robinson taught you cunnilingus techniques when you were still in university. I don’t care how committed you are to seeing every pussy-licking session through to the end. I don’t even care if you have skill or endurance. It’s not my body that responds to you. It’s my mind, so please take your lick-the-alphabet strategy to your next Tinder match. I deal in wit, intellect, and values. To me, your morality is sexier than your fingers. Your intelligence is hotter than your technique. If you can’t engage my mind, you will never be able to engage my body.

My orgasm is not a puzzle to be solved. It’s a door to be opened, and the only key that can achieve that is my mind. When men brag about their eight-point squirting strategy, I relegate them to the unsexy queue next to dirty-mirror selfies and the hole-ridden tighty whities. If you think you can unlock this door with practical techniques, it’s staying locked. Some women might want a man like you, but I’m not one of them.

It's at this juncture that I’m supposed to tell you I’m a demisexual sapio slut. I suppose you could qualify me as both, but neither of those words defines my sexuality as well as it should. Intelligence and emotional connection aren’t enough for me. Yes, I know I have rather lofty standards, but I’m looking for a man who’s sexually sly. Give me a word for that. "Sapiosexual" just doesn’t cut it. I prefer my men to be evil, cunning, and comfortable with darkness.

I want to be tested.

I want to be tormented.

I want to be exposed.

I want all my kinks to be laid out like small bundles of shame. I want to be seen—Really seen in high-definition graphics. I want to be understood.

I once knew a man who dug my sluttiest self out of the mud where nobody else had ever been. He didn’t need an IQ to find it. He just needed to know how to dig in all the right places.