marty and i were in bed, just waking up. the quiet of the house said the children were still tangled wildly in their sheets and blankets. marty leaned against two pillows reading. i had not yet come that far along achieving nothing more than sliding her way, pressing my naked back against her bare skin, in a when-you-think-about-it odd show of intimacy. eyes still closed but too awake to fall back asleep, i broke the silence with a comment about a dream or the day ahead. after the initial words, we shared in various conversations between pages and thoughts. somehow, one of the discussions became the two-point sex talk marty wishes every young girl could hear, learn, and live. her dual message:
1. sexuality is not a gift for girls to give to boys. girls should receive pleasure from the experience too.
2. good physical relationships require a whole lot of open communication.
it struck me how eerily similar her counsel was to the advice i used to give girls i knew and/or liked in high school and college (truthfully, these were never friends so much as girls i was interested in who were not interested in me). or maybe the similarities in our thinking is not so eerie and a large part of the reason marty and i jived as quickly as we did. my talks went something like ...
all girls should have a rule that until the guy can properly (and completely) pleasure them through his skill, art, or alchemy, you, the girl, won't be responsible for making him reach similar heights. in short, you better get yours before he gets his. i'd go on to tell them that to veer from this rule would enroll them into a life of sexual frustration and dissatisfaction. if the fellow argues, and they will, the counter is "i know i can make you go but i'm not entirely certain you can make me go. prove me wrong and we'll dance." to his next utterance you continue, "yes, i'm aware if it takes you six months, then it takes you six months." i'd round this point out by telling the women it's their game to run. they set the tone. they call the shots.
and then there is the occasional, highly intelligent advice that young people should maybe wait a little longer to enter the game. how long? your early twenties seems like a point where two average people might have a sportin' chance of navigating the level three rapids that is human intimacy with fewer winces, fumbles, mis-steps and surprisingly long-remembered regrets than one should hope for. of course there are outliers on either side of the spectrum, hence the use of 'average', but young people's rush to play is not driven by rational thought, quite the opposite actually, thus making it a dubious decision.
but ladies (i'd add), you're not totally in the clear here as you too have a responsibility. your job is just as challenging as the fellas ... (dramatic pause) ... communication. it's one thing to ask a young man to travel the dim, uncertain landscape with confidence, it's another to expect him to do so without aid. as much as you think or wish young men would know what's what, i assure you, they do not. and if anyone should have had such insights it would have been me since my mother was in the business of sexual edification and diligent as always she sat me down at an appropriately early age with the drawings and pointed out all the parts and described, without any outward show of embarrassment, their uses and functions. come game day though, i found the limitation to be that the flesh and blood parts looked nothing like the line drawings done on crisp white paper by some 58 year old dude sitting in a government office in downtown kansas city. and !!! no floating labels with neat arrows pointing right at the flap, fold or nubbin in question !!! and add to the test poor lighting, fear of failure, odd smells, shaky hands, and let us not forget the poor male's blood-deprived mind. so you gotta help ladies. like, a lot. if i earned a college credit for every time i heard an instruction like "a little to the left" i would have entered university as a junior (truth told, what i usually heard went more like " a little to the left ... a little more ... uhhh ... too far, back a little ... ahhh ... there", granted the endpoint marked by 'there' always seemed to be in a different spot than it was last time. however does it keep re-locating???). if i earned a college credit every time i SHOULD have heard a little to the left, i'd have multiple doctorates and would have never set foot on a campus. and this from someone with a private tutor.
marty ended her chat by confessing her hope that when the time comes she and i will be able to competently share these insights with our children. for reasons we're all aware of but can't adequately explain, parents struggle with these candid conversations with their kids. marty or i could easily have "the talk" with your kid or any stranger on the street but for some reason go mute or stammery with our own. but, since this website is a not-so-veiled vehicle for me to talk to my future children, i reckon i may have just solved this problem. look at that. minutes into the new year and i'm already putting sticky problems down (and yes, i do get that).