It all started with a casual conversation with friends. We were lounging around, two bottles of wine deep, and were discussing our favorite topic: sex. I’m not sure what is is about giving a group of girls some alcohol and some free time, but we immediately get tipsy and start talking about the peen. It’s just the way we’re wired. One second we’re gossiping about work and the next we’re going into absurdly detailed stories about our sex lives.
So, it’s then, as we’re laying on the couch in sweats and messy buns that the question comes up: what is is the perfect amount of time to be having sex?
Thirty minutes? Two hours? All night long? In the movies and in books, it always seems like the girl is disappointed when things end too soon. “He only lasted ten minutes” she whispers in a defeated voice, as her friends look at her in horror. But our conversation? It went a little differently.
Me: I’m not sure the perfect amount of time (hesitantly, because I don’t want to seem weird).
Older, Wiser Friend: You want it to be long enough that he doesn’t feel bad, but not too long.
Bitchy Friend: Definitely not too long.
Me: What’s too long? Like an hour?
Bitchy Friend: An hour? I would die.
Older, Wiser Friend: No one wants to have sex that long. Unless it’s drunk sex, and you don’t know the concept of time.
Bitchy Friend: Or high sex.
Older, Wiser Friend: Exactly. But how long do you want to have sex? Like actual, penetration? Maybe seven minutes. Ten, tops.
I’m sorry. What?! Ten minutes? Ten minutes is the amount of time it takes to scroll through your Snapchat stories. Ten minutes is the time it takes to walk to your car after class. Ten minutes is — whatever. You know how long ten minutes is. The point is, we’ve been programed for SO long to think that the goal is to have lots of really long sex. To do it all night long. To go and go and go and go. But it turns out? We’re all dirty, rotten liars.
Me: Ten minutes? Really? That’s it (starting to wonder if maybe I’m not as crazy as I thought)?
Older, Wiser Friend: For sure. But then add some foreplay in there. Let’s say, fifteen minutes?
Bitchy Friend: Minimum.
Older, Wiser Friend: Minimum. So fifteen-ish minutes of foreplay, ten minutes of sex, and throw in an extra five minutes for good measure, and we’re at thirty minutes total.
Bitchy Friend: Agreed. A half hour. Any more than that and it becomes a chore.
Older, Wiser Friend: And you’re just sitting there day dreaming about what to have for dinner.
Bitchy Friend: Or what to watch on Netflix. And then if he goes for too long, you have to do the thing where you say “I want you to come for me” in a sexy voice.
Older, Wiser Friend: Yeah! So he thinks that you’re being porn-like, instead of just bored.
Bitchy Friend: It works every time.
Older, Wiser Friend: The thing is, guys think lasting in sex is the important thing. But it’s not. It’s the foreplay that matters. The sex is just what happens next.
Foreplay is what we love. Sex? Not as much. And before you tell me I’m wrong, check this out. After having this conversation, I was so floored that I decided to do an experiment. I created a highly scientific poll using Twitter to determine once and for all how us lady-folk feel about good ol’ fashioned love making.
Important question, ladies. Do you orgasm from P in the V sex?
— Rachel Varina (@yeah_okay_what) December 9, 2015
Now, lets take into account any guys who might have voted to sway the results, and any girls who answered “yes” because they thought it was the right thing to say. And now? Now we have a result that looks pretty freaking insane. If we’re not getting off by having sex, what exactly are we doing? Singing songs in our heads? Planning our outfits? Yes and yes.
Why then? Why are we having sex? Maybe we’re doing it for the intimacy. Maybe we’re doing it to get something it return. Maybe we’re doing it because we love him, because he looked hot, because we felt sexy. Maybe it’s because society tells us to, or maybe we’re in it for the foreplay. Whatever is it, it’s not always for the penis, and it’s not always for the orgasms. Because most of us? We aren’t getting those from sex anyways.
So I guess my point is, everything isn’t exactly as it seems. Maybe everyone isn’t as sex obsessed as we thought. Maybe there’s more to life than finding the perfect penis, because when it comes down to it, these penises aren’t even helping us out that much. So the next time you feel bad because you’re not getting laid, just remember: your friends are probably faking it anyways. Do yourself a favor, by a vibrator, date a guy with a great tongue, and go back to planning your perfect Pinterest-inspired house while making sweet, sweet love. Because at the end of that day, we’re all doing the exact same thing. And if you’re one of the lucky 38 percent who get off from penetration, keep bragging about it. Trust us, you’ve earned it..
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