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I'd met Mr Lover Lover at a party. He was a friend of a friend visiting SA from his native Portugal for all of five minutes before heading off to South America. He was exotic, beautiful, charming and vair, vair funny. I was sure I was in love. In fact, I knew I was. The crate of bubbly I'd consumed told me so. It was patently clear that such a magical and destined pairing would need to be consummated. So off we went to mine. But no sooner had Mr Lover Lover cracked open the condom packet than I realised, to my horror, that he was an A-type ‘insert, thrust, repeat' lover lover.
If it weren't for the few hours of conversational bliss we'd spent together I would've left mid coitus. But as it was, I simply couldn't; there was just something so sincere about his pointed concentration and the brief look of bewilderment that swept over his face when I tried to say something. So, all I could do was smile. And then giggle. And then laugh. Mr Lover Lover confused this for signs of rapture and upped the pace. There was clearly only one way to bring the curtain down on this sexual potboiler.
I would have to fake it.
And friends, let me just say, that nary an orgasm sounded as joyful as mine. Laughing so hard I could've peed, I let rip with the kind of loud, wild porno performance of a life time. It was something to behold. And Mr Lover Lover beheld it and that was the end of that.
I was still laughing about it the next day when I met Miss K for breakfast at the market. I laughed and laughed the whole way through my story and The Big Fake, until it dawned on me that she wasn't laughing with. You see, Miss K wasn't laughing because, it turns out, she'd faked just about every orgasm she'd never had. Her performance sex had ended up ruining every single one of her relationships.
Whenever she got involved with a new partner, sex had been about what she thought they wanted her to be. But, much like lies, performance sex and faked orgasms are never sustainable over the long term. Invariably, she would get bored and stop pretending, and her partners, suddenly faced with a completely different woman in bed, would feel that they had failed her in some way. She felt cheated and they felt betrayed. Roll credits.
Her biggest challenge was being completely honest with her current partner about what she wanted and how she was actually feeling. Naturally, he was all too happy to oblige and she's finally coming to grips with the fact that sex isn't an outcomes based venture.
It's not just about his orgasm or her orgasm. It's about pleasure; it's about communicating what turns you on and being honest about it. Faking it assumes that sex is only about the climax. And while I do think that men in general still don't quite get the fact that sex for women can be 100% satisfying without an orgasm, women need to be more honest about what they're experiencing in bed.
And really, barring the unfortunate boor or bully around, there are very few men who won't want to hear what you have to say about what does and doesn't turn you on.
If it happens that your partner gets offended, hurt or withholding because you were honest, you might need to reconsider the relationship. Like any great relationship, great sex is built on communication, honesty and respect for our very unique sexual appetites. It should be a place where no one uses the F word.
It's a good thing Mr Lover Lover had to jet off the next day. It's not a relationship that would've survived beyond our initial wide-eyed romance of seven hours I think. Sexual altruism just isn't my bag and while I did enjoy my shot at performance sex brilliance I'd hardly want to practise for stardom.
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