It's 8:55 am, and my in-box is full of pussy.Yes, I've somehow arrived at the receiving end of a steady stream of naked bimbo sites. The computer terminal I work on is a community workstation, so someone has been a-diddlin' in the wee-wee hours, and the result is a proliferation of porn. I'm suddenly aware of the keyboard, and wonder if I might need to fumigate my hands.
One particular site catches my interest. It's called Tasty Snatches. The banner consists of three blonds: two bubble-titters and one real one. They recline across the top of the page, all of them with their fingers in their shaved, pink pies. The burning question? Why don't they take their fake nails off before they begin the dastardly deed? Yow!
The site has some interesting quotes.
Forty per cent of men will not eat a pussy.
Ten per cent of men know how to eat a pussy.
I think to myself, where are they getting these statistics?
I run a numbers game through the list of my last five boyfriends. Two were as comfortable with oral as with the old bump and grind. Look at that -- in my particular case study, 40 per cent did, 60 per cent didn't.
Why don't men like eating pussy?
The Tasty Snatch girls are "all about getting their shit snacked on" according to the site. "Come see these clean, tasty snatches" etc, etc. One word flies out from the garish pink copy and smacks me on the nose: clean.
OK. But if it's a question of hygiene, why don't two-shower-a-day girls like me get more action? It can't be that.
I go back to the site. Ten per cent of men know how to eat a pussy. So 90 per cent don't and don't care to learn?
Now, that's interesting.
The first time I had sex, I didn't have a clue how to give a blow job. Not even the slightest inkling. The guy I was with was an impatient, recently divorced, 31-year-old cad who found it deliciously titillating that he'd bagged a 17-year-old and a virgin to boot.
I didn't have a boyfriend at the time, and the pickings were slim in my hometown of Paris, Ontario. I didn't trust any of the guys in my high school -- I didn't want my inner workings publicly discussed, or to have to walk by titters in the cafeteria the morning after. I'd seen it happen a hundred times; it wasn't going to happen to me. So I went the anonymous route.
Back at his place, he opened the evening with a surly "Why don't you suck my cock?"
I didn't know how to do it, but I gave it a go.
"Not like that!" he shouted, disgusted. "Suck it!"
I tried again. He winced and shot across the bed.
"Give me you hand," he commanded.
I was starting to lose interest. It was too much abuse for a questionable reward. But I gave him my hand and he stuck it in his mouth. He scraped my fingers back and forth against the big molars at the back of his mouth.
"How do you think those feel on my cock?" he inquired.
I'd gained arm's-length empathy with the male condition, and was determined that I'd never again be accused of "too much teeth, not enough suck."
I bit the bullet. I accepted the fact that I knew nothing. I admitted, by my botched blow job, that I was horribly lacking in the oral arts. But I made a point of learning. And now, of course, many years and many boyfriends later, I'm good at it. So why don't guys do the same?
Is it because they don't feel the same obligation? That first night, I felt that this act was expected of me and if I didn't do it I'd be labelled "bad in bed," called "uptight" or "frigid," and later in life my husband would use this shortcoming to justify his dalliance with the secretary. I think most people are chuffed when their partners refer to them as "good fucks," and I'm no different. Why don't men feel that same pressure, that same will to succeed?
Why aren't men proud of being pussy eaters?
I can only ask the question. Much as I'd like to tie up the answer with a neat little bow and present it to the throngs of confused, dissatisfied womanhood sadly bearing their neglected snatches home from the market, no easy solution is forthcoming.
At school, I remember seeing a Symbolist pen-and-ink drawing of a vagina, entitled The Origin Of The Species, and thinking, "That is telling me something." Later on in the semester I went to a Jung symposium where the speaker was talking about sex.
He asserted that men feel intimate discomfort because the female body is a source of nourishment for them as children, and when they grow up and fuck it they feel weird. They can't bridge the gap between Mother and Lover.
The vagina is the hole we all came out of, and men, especially, feel queasy at the thought of licking the beginning. I guess. Maybe. But I'm not convinced.
A more cynical take. Ninety per cent of men don't know how because they don't have to. It's like that old joke: How do you give a woman an orgasm? Who cares?
Short of tying them down and sitting on their faces, women have yet to shame men into sexual equality.
Then again, if the Tasty Snatch girls are any indication, there are some men out there who will eat pussy and enjoy it. One can only hope such a liberated breed is on the rise.