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My heart is pounding as I stare at the twinkling Manhattan skyline. My old-fashioned Russian mother drilled things into my head like, “If you give the milk away for free, he won’t buy the cow.” I believed her. After he promised he would, I made him cuddle me for hours. We’d look deeply into each other’s eyes at a fancy restaurant where they comb your tablecloth. We had great sex, and I didn’t turn into crazy Marilyn. When it’s over, he asks me if I liked it.“That was awesome,” I lie. The precis: We're all having more sex, and more kinds of sex than ever before, and we're getting sexually active at younger ages. Anal sex outscored cunnilingus." [You can read the data for yourself if you don't believe it: Table 5, Pages 357-8.]"What could explain this? I can't see how it would be anything but very painful, and I'd prefer not to find out just the wildest sexual fantasy of every single man in the world.But the "big story," as Slate writer William Saletan puts it, is anal sex! One-third of these women say they've done it in the last month. If anything, they're probably understating the truth."So, he wonders, what's the deal? In the hopes of answering that question, he checks out the orgasm data and finds: "Among women who had vaginal sex in their last encounter, the percentage who said they reached orgasm was 65. Plenty of the guys I've dated, who seem to have healthy libidos and to be liberal thinkers about sexuality, were not into it.It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m at the W Hotel in Manhattan with a boyfriend I’ll call Liam. The champagne arrives from room service in a silver bucket. His piercing green eyes and jet-black hair are striking against his white tux. I stick my hand under the pillow, because I always imagined that when a man proposed, he’d hide the velvet box there, like an adult version of the tooth fairy. I was a virgin until I was 20, when I finally had sex with my college boyfriend. He pulls back my pink lace thong and after some shoving and a lot of lube, he puts it in. Silence.“Sure, if you’re cool cleaning poop off your dick,” he says when he comes out of the bathroom. We’ve been together for over a year, and this is the moment I’ve been waiting for my whole life: He’s going to propose. I cried the entire time and asked him if he was going to marry me because I couldn’t live with myself if he didn’t. It feels like my butt is being jackhammered by a giant apple corer. As he puts it, "The more sex acts a woman engaged in during the encounter, the more likely she was to report orgasm. Women who were getting what they wanted were more likely to indulge their partners' wishes. It was the orgasms that caused the anal sex."If anyone has thoughts about Saletan's conclusion — if anyone wants to argue that anal, in itself, is a sure-fire way for a woman to orgasm, or is immensely more pleasurable than other bedroom activities — please give us the low-down.
This went on for a year until he cheated on me with a waitress at Steak and Shake. He’d want to have sex, and I wanted to do it too, now that I’d been defiled. He’d start spending lots of time with his friends at Paddy O’s, the perfect place to complain about your crazy girlfriend over a pint of Guinness. When we were together, Liam acted like I was the most important person in his life. I fooled him into thinking I was the calm, laid-back girl of his dreams. I try to call her from the bathroom, but she doesn’t pick up. I think, Liam excuses himself to go to the bathroom.
But after we’d have sex, I’d feel like a slut and become that needy girl every man is afraid of. And before long, he’d stop calling and break up with me. That’s when he asked me to spend New Year’s with him.