Nymphomania

I wake up in the morning and think about sex. I go to bed at night and the last thing I think about is sex, which is just as well because it reminds me to take my contraceptive pill! I get in the car and go to work and think about sex. I have conversations on the way to work that make me think about sex. Every time I go to the toilet, I think about sex. I actually have to think about sex because of my job let alone the fact that I write about sex. When I am with my lover, my thoughts about sex increase from the frequent to the perpetual.
Let’s face facts, folks. I’m gagging for it!

So does that make me a nymphomaniac, or in new speak suffering from hypersexuality?
Or am I just a normal, honest woman who has rediscovered her sexuality and damn well wants to celebrate the fact?

Nymphomania implies abnormal. It suggests something that is uncontrollable, and despite all the jokes about guys happily meeting a nymph, it is seen as something that is debilitating, tiring and quite frankly, a bit of a problem.

Which indeed it is in the truest sense of the word. I pity women who need to have sex every minute of the day, think about it constantly, do not mind where it comes from and simply cannot cope without a cock up their fanny or arse.
However, as with so many things, it is all about balance. I also pity women who do not need to have sex, who do not think about it constantly, who are not open enough to appreciate the difference between loving sex and a bit of recreational fun and who are afraid to even touch their own bodies for fear that this is an abnormal desire.

So am I a nymphomaniac or not?

Time for a bit of research.

In history, women have really suffered. It is no wonder that they are worried about coming out, so to speak, as sexually enthusiastic.

As a woman, if you show the slightest bit of interest in your own body or that of others, then in the past you may well have been labelled as a sexual deviant. The official word is “nymphomania” or “furor uterinus”.
Here is a quote from Wikipedia
“Many Victorian era mental institutions treated nymphomania as an exclusively female mental illness. Women were classified as mentally ill for nymphomania if they were a victim of sexual assault, bore illegitimate children, masturbated or were considered to be promiscuous. Upon arrival at the asylum, doctors would give the woman a pelvic exam. If doctors felt that the woman had an enlarged clitoris, she would undergo treatments. These treatments included induced vomiting, bloodletting, leeches, restricted diet, douches to the head or breasts and at times, clitoridectomies”

Bloody hell! What on earth would they have made of my engorged organs that respond so dramatically to the sight of a certain cock? I think I might have been locked up. I think I would have classified as an over-sexed naughty madam under a couple of those characteristics written above.

And as for the treatment, douching the breasts? Why? Or are we back to the sexual desires of Victorian Doctors?

The famous sex researcher, Alfred Kinsey described a nymphomaniac as someone who “is having more sex than you”.
Excuse the pun, but this was a tongue in cheek statement but there is something quite valid in what he was saying. Isn’t it the case that some people measure everything by thinking that they are normal?
If you are someone who has sex once a week in a missionary position that lasts approximately five minutes, then the thought of someone having sex for over an hour three times a week – well it all sounds a little racy!
And those who get it three times a week think that those who are dropping their kegs more frequently must be right little nymphs (or in my opinion, bloody fortunate).

Okay, here is the tester.
On one website I saw there were some questions that one had to ask as to whether one might consider the “patient” to have nymphomaniac tendencies.
So here goes.

Over a period of at least six months, recurrent and intense sexual fantasies, sexual urges, and sexual behaviour in association with four or more of the following five criteria:

(1) A great deal of time is consumed by sexual fantasies and urges, and by planning for and engaging in sexual behaviour. (Yep)

(2) Repetitively engaging in these sexual fantasies, urges, and behaviour in response to dysphoric mood states (e.g., anxiety, depression, boredom, irritability). (Sometimes)

(3) Repetitively engaging in sexual fantasies, urges, and behaviour in response to stressful life events. (Well I might have been known to have a shag or a wank in response to a difficult day – and why the hell not?)

(4) Repetitive but unsuccessful efforts to control or significantly reduce these sexual fantasies, urges, and behaviour.(Nope. I have never made any attempt to control my sexual fantasies, urges or behaviour – well maybe a little)

(5) Repetitively engaging in sexual behavior while disregarding the risk for physical or emotional harm to self or others.(Oh yes- lots of times)

So apparently I am a nymphomaniac after all!

But words like “consumed” “control” “disregard” are dangerous. By default they imply a lack of self-government. If you took these words and associated them with other things in life like work or raising children or eating, they would be equally bad.

Balance again, dear readers. Everything always comes back to those damn scales!

More research.

I was going to offer a link but every time I try and return to this link, it requires you to register.

If you wish to do so, please follow the link. Otherwise, concentrate on the extracts below.
http://www.nytimes.com/books/first/g/groneman-nymphomania.html

In 1841, Miss T., the twenty-nine-year-old daughter of a Massachusetts farmer, was diagnosed with nymphomania. According to the physicians who described the case in the Boston Medical and Surgical Journal, her conversation and actions left no doubt that she suffered from the disease: she uttered the "most disgusting obscenities" and moved her body in ways that expressed her uncontrolled "libidinous feelings." Although in good health, she had been restless and morose, exhibiting a "paroxysm of hysteria" when the doctors arrived. After a vaginal examination, they determined that her uterus was enlarged, her vagina over-abundantly moist, but her long and "tumid" clitoris was the telltale sign of nymphomania. They applied various caustics to her genitals to cool her ardor and tried other traditional remedies, such as bleeding and cold-water douches. After several weeks, the doctors pronounced her greatly improved, with "not a symptom remaining referable to nymphomania." This time when she was examined vaginally, she exhibited "every appearance of modesty," including a retracted and very diminutive clitoris.
Well, I suppose the good news is that they even acknowledged that there was a clitoris. Having attended my daughter’s school for some sex education discussions with other parents, many people were utterly horrified to even admit to the youth of today that there was indeed a body part known as the clitoris.

“Her vagina over abundantly moist” – Whoops, I’d have been sent straight to the asylum. Sod the leeches!

 In the Victorian period, both doctors and the patients who sought medical help believed that strong sexual desire in a woman was a symptom of disease. Self-control and moderation were central to the health of both men and women, but women's presumably milder sexual appetite meant that any signs of excess might signal that she was dangerously close to the edge of sexual madness. Not surprisingly, physicians registered the greatest concern when the disease appeared in "refined and virtuous" women.

Look at that phrase, “women’s presumably milder sexual appetite”. These poor women were ahead of their time. Perhaps we should have left feminism to these folk to get a clearer understanding of the truth of female sexual empowerment and what it could have been.
1841, dear readers. It is just about excusable then to make assumptions or presumptions about a woman’s sexuality. That we still think a woman’s sexual appetite should be/is milder than men’s is a real indictment and travesty. Where the hell have we actually advanced in the last 170 years?

Mrs. R., described as a short, stout, recently widowed twenty-year-old woman with a lively disposition, came to Dr. Bostwick out of desperation. She explained, "If I can't be relieved of this agonizing condition, I am certain that the struggle between my moral sense and lascivious longings must soon send me to the grave." She blamed reading novels and attending gay parties in her youth as the cause of "my imagination [being] wrought up to the highest point." She appeared to be familiar with the assumption that women's reason was thought to be inferior to men's. As a result, she understood that stimulating the imagination in these ways was very dangerous. Her passions were so strong, she told Dr. Bostwick, that "it was with the greatest difficulty that I could conduct myself in a decorous and ladylike manner in the presence of the other sex." Even after her marriage, her "inordinate desire" was not entirely subdued and she continued to practice "self-abuse" (masturbation). Since her husband's death, "my passion has been more inflamed than ever, and I fear that, unless something can be done to relieve me, I shall go crazy."

Here is a classic example of a woman who has unbalanced the scales between learned expectations and her instinct. She wanted to have sex, she wanted to think sexual thoughts. That was her instinct. That was her! And yet, she “knew” that she shouldn’t be behaving or thinking in this way and therefore had to suppress it with the help of a learned man!

This is scary, abhorrent stuff and please do not think that this is a history lesson. It is happening, here, now, today – women thinking that their instinctual thoughts are wrong.

This case, presented in Mrs. R.'s words, reads like one of the cases Bienville described in his classic study of nymphomania. It contains all the elements that shaped the eighteenth-century understanding of the disease: inflamed imagination, uncontrollable desire, novel reading, moral struggle, and an inevitable downward slide into madness. Mrs. R.'s assertion that" I am sure my lascivious feelings cannot be natural—they must be the effect of disease," suggests the influence of "medicalized" notions about female sexual desire and women's sense of proper conduct. It is unlikely that Mrs. R. read Bienville or other medical texts, and yet she was obviously affected by the ideas they contained, including the notion that sexual improprieties required a doctor's help.

You see what you get from reading, imagining etcetera. Gawd only knows what would have happened if they had had to contend with the availability of hard core porn on the internet. I’d say the poor woman was lucky that she could actually find any arousing reading materials, and yet, surely it is what the mind chooses to do with text as well?
One person may find a passage of discreet sexual descriptiveness arousing where another would just glide over it without a thought.

 Dr. Bostwick used a speculum to examine the "irritated" and "inflamed" genitals, including an elongated clitoris. He treated Mrs. R. with various remedies: hip baths, spare diet, douches, bags of pounded ice applied to the genital region, and leeches to the uterus, presumably to draw off the noxious blood. After several weeks, Dr. Bostwick declared that he had completely cured this "highly respectable" Boston widow. She even married again.
“She even married again” – Oh yes, she was definitely cured!


    Here, as in several other cases Dr. Bostwick described, defining nymphomania was not simply the physician's prerogative. Patients shared similar ideas about the body and the passions. They, too, were highly suspicious and fearful of "unnatural" feelings and interpreted them to mean sexual disease.
That is because everyone at that time thought that women’s sexuality was an abomination. As I said earlier, how much has life really changed? People are still very suspicious of a woman who ‘outs’ herself as a sexually liberated and free woman who is prepared to admit that she likes sex.
Hence, pseudonyms for writers such as me.

In 1856, Mrs. B., a twenty-four-year-old, middle-class married woman, went to the Boston office of gynecologist Dr. Horatio R. Storer, future vice president of the American Medical Association. Described by Dr. Storer in his published case notes as small and pale, Mrs. B. sought the doctor's help for decidedly un-Victorian feelings. Excessively lascivious images of sexual intercourse with men not her husband, she told Dr. Storer, filled her dreams. Recently, whenever she met and talked to a man, she dreamed about having intercourse with him. Even during the daytime, if she conversed with a man, erotic feelings overwhelmed her. Up to that moment, she had resisted any actual sexual encounters, but she greatly feared that if the malady increased, she might not be able to restrain herself in the future.

Mrs. B. came to Dr. Storer not because she was concerned about the strong sexual desire she felt for her husband, the frequency of their marital intercourse, or her husband's possible impotence, but because she was afraid she was not going to be able to limit her sexual desire solely to her husband in the future. At a time when women were supposed to be innately less passionate than men, and during a period when Victorian modesty prevented many women from speaking about sexual matters to their physicians, Mrs. B.'s revelations to Dr. Storer suggest just how worried she must have been by her potentially adulterous feelings.
I always said that enforced monogamy was abnormal. We should have listened to the likes of Mrs B. She was not abnormal. All she was doing was expressing a genuine and real issue, i.e. that just because you are married, it doesn’t stop you feeling sexual desires for other people, be they out of reach or sitting next to you in the office.
It is perfectly normal. Sexual desire is a fact. It is there. It is normal. Doing something about it would be normal too but we have conditioned ourselves and our society to think that this is wrong.
What have we done to ourselves and our real liberty?

 Dr. Storer, like most nineteenth-century doctors, looked to Mrs. B.'s body to explain her disorder and interpreted her libidinous dreams about a man other than her husband as a symptom of nymphomania. After a general physical examination, the physician pronounced her in tolerably good health: normal heart and lungs; regular but scanty menstrual flow; daily bowel movement; and good appetite.
    He then turned his attention to her genitals. Like most gynecologists of the time, he undoubtedly was extremely careful in examining Mrs. B. Deciding that a speculum was unnecessary in this case, Storer reported on his examination: Mrs. B.'s clitoris was normal-sized, her vagina slightly overheated, and her uterus somewhat enlarged. According to Mrs. B., her clitoris constantly itched. In order to determine the seriousness of her condition, Dr. Storer gently touched it, at which point she shrieked, not with pain, but with excitement. Shocked and concerned about the extent of her disorder, Storer warned her that if she continued without treatment, she would most likely end up in an asylum.
Wow, lucky woman. Sounds as though she didn’t need much stimulation at all. I wonder if she ever had a vaginal orgasm? Her “disorder” was that, despite not having a pronounced clitoris, it seemed to work rather well. Instead of glorifying the fact that she was in full working order, she was messed around with and warned that such sexual excitement would lead her straight to the loony bin.


    The recommended course of therapy involved her whole family. First, Mrs. B. must totally abstain from intercourse with her husband. Because she was "unable to restrain herself," her husband was required to leave home temporarily. Her sister moved in and oversaw that Mrs. B. restricted her intake of meat, brandy, and all other stimulants that might excite her animal desire. The patient was ordered to replace her feather mattress and pillows with ones made of hair to limit the sensual quality of her sleep. To cool her passions, she was to take a cold sponge bath morning and night, a cold enema once a day, and swab her vagina with borax solution. Finally, she had to give up working on the novel she was writing. We learn nothing more about Mrs. B.'s literary output, but Dr. Storer was obviously concerned that dwelling on romance and passion was dangerous to her highly excitable mind.
Ah! So there you go. She mustn’t think about lurve or naughty rampant thoughts. And she certainly shouldn’t be writing about sex.
My downfall, apparently, as I am utterly aroused whenever I write about this subject.
And I love that feeling. Bloody love it!


So, according to all of this, I probably am a nymphomaniac.


Only I don’t see myself as such, and the purpose of adding all this Victorian melodrama is to try and explain why I do not see myself as a nympho.


What these women were allegedly “suffering” from was an openmindedness to their sexuality. It was not abnormal. The society in which they found themselves was abnormal and going against the grain of intelligent thought about sexuality.
‘Twas ever thus because I still think, despite pornography, despite the swinging sixties, despite the laws being relaxed on sexuality, we are still living in the Victorian times when it comes to that fact of women admitting that they are sexual creatures.
I know that some would disagree but there has been such a disservice to women and their sexuality over the centuries and it is still there.

I cannot “come out” properly as a woman who likes sex, as a woman who likes looking at other women, as a woman who is happy to feel the inside of her own cunt, as a woman who loves to suck and stroke cock because it is still seen as unseemly. I cannot “come out” as a woman with more than one or two unfulfilled sexual fantasies. I cannot “come out” and have sex whenever I want it despite being given the go-ahead to do so, because there are still rules and regulations in place, moral ones as well, that do not enable me to be sexually free.

And yet, I have far more sexual freedom than most. I’m one of the lucky ones.


But am I a nymphomaniac?


Well, the answer is probably yes for some and no for others.
I don’t want to have sex with anyone and yet, I would happily fuck my lover three or four times a day if there was opportunity to do so.
I do think about sex and have sexual fantasies, some of which I don’t necessarily want to actually do.
I look at porn and love seeing beautiful men and women enjoying their sexuality. I actually get a real kick out of watching women enjoying their sexuality, more so than seeing a man get his rocks off. I do not think that any time spent thinking or doing sex is wasted. It has to be the most important thing in life.
I want sex often. I need sex often but at the moment, I need and want that sex with a particular loving partner. Does the fact that I want his cock in my mouth, in my pussy, in my hand at any given point make me a nymphomaniac?


If it does, then I happily concede to such a wonderful affliction!

Female journalists and Female Sexuality

I know that I am not trained to be a journalist, and if one of these professionals came into my world and professed to know how to tackle my job, I think I might be a little aggrieved.
Poor journalists! They are in a mighty difficult position sometimes. People think it is a relatively easy job. The majority can write. Isn’t that all you have to be able to do?
Well, not exactly, unless you write for the Daily Mail or the News of the Screws.

No, journalists have an important role to play in life.
They are the commentators in places and on themes that the masses do not have access to influence. In some ways, they are more of a mouthpiece on social change than the elected (and non-elected) members with the power to legislate. They can seriously influence collective thoughts of the masses. Look at how some of the media campaigns over the years have directly impacted on the law being changed.

But journalists also have a responsibility, in my opinion, to reach out and explore, to challenge the norms, to question and consider the societal issues that are most prevalent to the people.
Of course, they have to account the daily or weekly news but I really feel they are also there to get the ball rolling on a range of life issues.

What I really cannot bear sometimes is reading something in the newspaper that really doesn’t take on the enormity of a subject when there is such an opportunity to do so; an opportunity that I would welcome so emphatically. This happened to me yesterday when I read an article about female sexuality.

In gross and possibly inaccurate summary, the article said that women want to fall in love whereas men are just interested in fucking.
Wrong on both counts! Wrong also to continue with this jaded and archaic representation on male and female sexuality! Wrong in not challenging it! Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!

There are so many parts of this article that I want criticise, I hardly know where to start!
But let us start at the beginning.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/aug/17/tanya-gold-stripping

1. The Title: “Women watch men strip for the fun of it. But men watch women undress for a much darker reason.” What darker reason? Is being sexual and recognising your sexuality a darkness? Is recognising you are a sexual being not ‘fun’? There are subtle uses of familiar words here that are already perpetuating myths and inaccuracies before the article has even opened. I know that the article is about stripping in public but if you equate this to a sexual situation between two consenting adults, then such a phrase is appallingly laughable, and I know that I am taking this out of context but bear with me. I get a laugh out of seeing a man strip in front of me. I enjoy it because it is ‘funny’ to see an erect cock whereas when I strip, the only thing he wants to do is get his cock inside me, and that is a dark thing? Such a statement on a level of intimacy between two people is clearly stupid but I would argue that the same could be said for collective enjoyment of stripping and all things sexual, i.e. the statement, the title is wrong! Some women may watch men strip for fun. A small minority of men may watch women undress for darker reasons but sweeping statements like this reiterate a degree of separation between male and female sexuality that does not exist!

2. The article goes on to discuss the Chippendales performance and the fact that women were behaving exactly as expected, waving in excitement, acting “like a man” is stereoptypically supposed to at a strip club, whooping and guffawing but then as soon as the ‘sex’ is placed in front of them, they all go shy and timid and don’t really want any more of it because what women really want is a hug and some tenderness. They want the cock to love them. Wrong! There are some women who would quite like to reach out and get a good mouthful of the cock who has just stripped in front of them but because of writing such as this, they have become accustomed to the idea that this is deviant behaviour. Nice girls don’t touch! Nice girls don’t even think such things because admitting that you might be turned on by seeing a man’s cock is not acceptable behaviour.

3. Women, apparently, prefer to watch sexual acts collectively whereas men go to strip clubs on their own. Why is this the case, I wonder? Can I please make it clear here, that the Chippendales do not appeal to me at all. The thought of going to a performance like this is simply not sexual but more of that later. Women do not attend these performances on their own because it is not socially acceptable to do so. By attending alone, you are actually saying that you are going there to get your rocks off. Blimey, our society can hardly bear to think that women masturbate so why would they contemplate a woman going to a sex show to get turned on in the way that they almost take for granted that a man could be attending for the same reasons?

4. The article mentions women’s “hackneyed female fantasy – the policeman, the fireman, the soldier, the gangster.” Although she mentions the fact that this is a hackneyed fantasy, by merely mentioning it, it implies that this is all women are capable of. The “hackneyed” fantasy is there for a reason because women cannot really be fantasising about things that are slightly more errant. I know this is a little trite but let’s take the other side of hackneyed fantasies. Apparently, most men fantasise about watching two women having sex with one another. What if a woman has fantasies about watching two women having sex together? Is that hackneyed too? Of course it isn’t, because the large majority of the population think that it is inconceivable that a woman might have such fantasies because it is far too sexy, and far too in a man’s domain. My point is that female and male fantasies don’t have to be that different. We are human beings and ergo we have sexual desires and those desires should not be portrayed as having huge gulfs between them on the basis of gender differentiation.

I am stopping doing this in number form, not because I have run out of points to make but because what I have to say now needs to be made very clear once and for all.

The entire article is essentially saying that men and women are totally different when it comes to sexuality.
Men can attend strip clubs alone, have a wank, have an ogle and then it is all over. Their sexual urges are satisfied. They don’t need a kiss and a cuddle. They don’t desire the tender post-coital moments because they are already thinking about the next time that they can get cock in cunt. Women however, don’t want to attend strip clubs alone, even if it was ‘allowed’ because they don’t like voyeuristic sex. They may be excited by a huge chunk of beefiness with a big dangling one but as soon as they are invited to go further, they are disinterested because they are “sugar and spice and all things nice”. They want to have an emotional connection with a lover because raw sex is not what women want.

I find this sort of generalisation totally unacceptable for men and women.
To assume or make assumptions that men watch women strip for ‘dark’ reasons is abhorrent. Men want tenderness, affection, warmth in sexuality as much as women do. Likewise, women want horniness, lustiness, sexual fun as much as men. In both cases though, it is simply not acceptable to say so. It is not acceptable for a woman to admit to wanting a fuck – just because that is what they want. They need a cock or a finger inside them to waggle around and hit those important parts of their body, sending them into a climatic state of arousal because that is bloody good for them. Get this – women have sexual urges too!
Men are human beings too. They want to feel wrapped in affection once they have had sex. They want to feel the warmth and the joys of intimacy with another that includes the opportunity to lie together having had sex and just allow that gorgeous feeling of togetherness ride over them.

Or of course, this might not be the case. There are some men who just want a fuck. They recognise their sexual urges and they want to do something about it. End of! However, judging by the young women I have seen on holiday this year, walking around the streets half clad with tits and pussies moreorless in your face, I would surmise that there are plenty of women out there who want exactly the same thing. They are gagging for a quickie! They’ve practically got their knickers off ready for it, and whilst that is not what I would want, and whilst I am not saying that just because they are dressed provocatively means that are automatically inviting it, we have to get used to the idea that some actually want it!

What this article does is perpetuate a whole load of myths based on flimsy and inconsequential evidence. As one commentator puts it, “Interesting article, but global pronouncements on the motives of entire genders with no evidence just makes it a curious talking point.”

Another commentator puts it more succinctly than I ever could.
“Men are allowed to eroticise women. Women are rarely given the opportunity to eroticise men; it's all for laughs. If I were a guy, I'd be pretty pissed off that my sexuality was constantly being ridiculed. It insults women too. Once again we're being told our desire doesn't exist. Being a straight woman can feel like having a fringe sexuality.
The idea that women aren't really interested in sex, that it's all about giggles and cuddles is utter nonsense. I wish this article had delved deeper and looked at why and how that idea is perpetuated in our culture instead of presenting it as some essential difference between nasty men and nice women.
The issue is not what we reveal about ourselves when we watch strippers but what it reveals about our culture.”

And here lies the real essence of such drivel. This article is not revealing anything about anyone other than the writer and the society that she writes for being unable to accept that women have raw, instinctual sexual desires that are not deemed to be socially acceptable. Even those of us who feel more sexually enlightened than others cannot really ‘come out’ and admit to the fact that we like sex, we want sex, we need sex.

Try as I might, I cannot bring myself to walk into my lover’s house and drop my knickers at the merest of provocation or hint that he might want me to do this because for my entire lifetime, I have had it drummed into me that I must contain, suppress or ignore the nagging little point that I may be a sexual beast, and if I did behave in that way, the only obvious thing to be said for me is that I am a nymphomaniac, and whilst we are on that subject, what is the male equivalent for such a phrase? Oh that’s right – there isn’t one!

With glorious synchronicity, last night a friend of mine was telling me why he split from his partner. He lived at one end of the country and his lover at the other. Due to a variety of commitments, they could only see each other once a fortnight. When they met up, they had the most incredible and frequent sex; three or four times a night and the best sex my friend has ever experienced. One of the reasons that he thought it was the best sex was because his partner was open and honest about her sexuality and her sexual needs. Nothing was held back, and this was exacerbated due to the lack of frequency of their sexual encounters. He walked in the door and she was pulling his dick out of his trousers before he could recover from the four hundred miles or so journey.

The split came because my friend happened on one occasion to be too knackered to do anything about it. Even little blue pills could not have ‘lifted’ his game and all he wanted to do was climb into bed, take his lover in his arms and gently fall asleep with the woman that he loved. She was agonisingly pissed off and threw him out of the house because he hadn’t performed.

Obviously, there was more to the split than that but in some ways, I really admire her for being honest enough to say, “Listen matey, you are needed for sex and you had better give me a damn fine seeing to”. But it also illustrates the fact that whilst my friend clearly enjoys sex in a way that men are supposed to, he also wanted the other stuff too. He wanted the affection and understanding. He got as much out of lying naked with his lover than actually having penetrative sex. Gross and inaccurate stereotypes based on gender differentiation should not be part of the real world.

So I say to Ms. Gold, author of this piece, and her editors - if you cannot consider an article that breaks down and challenges these inappropriate and stereotypical myths then please, move over to enable others that can. Let us please look at de-flowering female sexuality. Let us stop seeing men as some sexual predators who are only interested in getting their cocks dampened in pussy. Sex is far too important to trivialise in this way, and I am sick and tired of feeling like a social freak because I have the foresight and awareness to admit that I want sex.

And whilst we are on that subject, there may be women out there who just want sex and are happy to be fucked by anyone because it is the sex that is important to them. All I can say is that they are deeply flawed in some ways too, just as the stereotype of their male counterpart is. They are missing out on the real joy of sex; the sex where rampant sexuality is very much a part of it but so too is that utter oneness and connectivity that can only come from having sex with someone that means something to you. To me it is rather like masturbation. You can get a kick and an orgasm out of touching yourself or using a vibrator and the physical excitement and energy from that orgasm is bloody good but without the affection, without the touch of another human being, without being able to see the effect of your orgasm on another, without sharing each other’s orgasms and sexuality, the sex is a mere shadow of its potential being.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………….
A footnote: I am slightly heartened by the fact that this is the second article in one week of a sexual nature that invited comments. This is the second time in that week where the comments have surpassed the 700 counter.
There is an interest in sex out there and judging by the comments, there is an interest in challenging the very things that I am suggesting.

A second footnote: Do feminist writers really think that they are doing women a favour by suppressing female sexuality in this way? How can it be good for womankind to be robbed of the right to be sexually expressive?

A third footnote: ‘F’ words and gender – just for a minute, think about words beginning with ‘f’ that have something to do with sexuality. Put these words into columns of male and female and both. How many harsh, raw words are being placed in the male side? How many ‘frivolous’, flirty, fun words are in the female section? Take it further than the letter ‘f’ and see how even through our language we are perpetuating the problem.

A final footnote: I want a fuck!