Why I'm Removing Patience from My Sexual Wishlist

Yesterday a self-titled Sex Guru told me he’d had a much older girlfriend when he was but a lad who taught him to be the pro he is today. This has legitimately happened to every self-titled guru who’s ever graced my threads. I don’t know why they all tell the same story, but I’m pretty sure it has a Simon and Garfunkel soundtrack. 

Dee de dee dee dee. And here’s to you Mrs… Sorry. What was I saying? 

Oh, right. What skills does Norman have? Well, he’s patient. He’s willing to keep pleasuring that pussy until it has an orgasm. He’s also kind. Do you think other straight men care about the female orgasm? Norman thinks the answer is nope. Not all men care about women’s pleasure. That’s what makes Norman different. He’s unselfish.  

I learned something from that conversation. No, really. Sweddegod. I learned that my sexual expectations are abysmally low. I *appreciate* men who are patient and benevolent enough to give women orgasms. That’s fucked up. 

The female orgasm is not a favour. 

The female orgasm is not a kindness. 

The female orgasm is not a service. 

Sex is a mutually-inclusive act, not a pastime we invented to give straight men pleasure.

I got schooled by a dudebro, and it was a worthy lesson indeed. 

Know how many times I’ve stuck a gold star on my forehead for giving a blowjob? Zero. Know how many times I’ve congratulated myself for my partners’ orgasms? Also zero, so why am I prostrating myself at the feet of men who are “patient” as though women are only a relevant part of the sexual act for 10 minutes while the man WAITS to get to the good part? 

Do you know what I’m patient about? 

YouTube adverts. 

Dustbin day. 

Supermarket queues.

Patience is the whole everloving *cause* of my rather gaping orgasm gap. I’ve always seen my orgasm as a favour that men might bestow upon me if they were feeling particularly generous that day. That’s why I’ve always treated my orgasm as a second-tier problem. It’s also why I’ve often stopped men from bothering—because patience isn’t fun or sexy. It’s a job. 

I don’t want to be a job. I want to be *enjoyed,* not treated as an item on your to-do list next to buying the milk and fixing the gutters. 

If all sex gurus are patient, I’m holding out for the blue collar guy who arrives to work in overalls.