I'm thinking how silly it is that guys stifle their moaning. They have no idea how hot we find that. I guess they think it is not manly or something. But it's not like your boys are there to judge you ( I hope not anyway)
So , you hear that all you men out there ? You moaning is hot. Do it more.
I don't stifle my moaning; it just never feels good enough for moaning to occur in the first place.
'at's why we like teh moaning- it's validating.
Maybe I should fake it.
You're kind of an odd case, but one wonders why you have sex in the first place if it doesn't feel that good.
I'm not sure that I'm all that odd; perhaps I'm at the quantitative fringes of the male sexual bell curve, but qualitatively normal, with all the usual drives and responses present and functional, but damped down. I read this article about a month ago, when I checked Google to find out what, if anything, people around the world were saying about the crapness of male orgasms, and I felt that it agreed with my own suspicions that men typically don't enjoy the physical side of sex nearly as much as is commonly believed, and that the emotional aspects of sex are more important to them than they'll generally admit to themselves or to others.
(The original article has disappeared into a pay-walled archive or something, but I found the text of the article in a message where someone had quoted it.)
Is she having all the fun?
Orgasms are just so unfair, says Jonathan Margolis. Compared with a
woman's physical fireworks, a man's big moment is a bit of a damp
squib
Considering the dedication with which we men pursue orgasms, it's odd
that we almost never try to describe them. Women, supposedly less
orgasm-obsessed, give long, lyrical descriptions of their whole-body
orgasmic experiences. Yet, for thousands of years, when even
sensitive, articulate male writers have reached the sticky bits of
their sex scenes, they weirdly change their point of view and start
going on about the ecstatic vaginal fireworks show that they imagine
exploding within their lover's loins.
What is going on here? By far the most likely explanation for men's
reticence is that, frankly, the male orgasm is rubbish. Nature gave
us the desire to ejaculate with tedious regularity, yet she also
ensured that the experience, though addictive, would be a bit
piffling � a cunning method to get us to have sex and spread our seed
as frequently as possible. But however transitory and unsatisfying
the male orgasm is, we get to see women go through the 5, 10, 30
seconds of face-contorted, white-knuckle yes, yessss ... then bliss.
Sometimes, we feel the aftershocks in their vagina for even longer.
We hear them purr contentedly in the afterglow. And, while we might
feel rather smug for having played our part, real or imagined, we
also somehow sense that we were at a different party.
For those of you who don't know, let me explain what the male orgasm
is like. It starts with an irritable sensation in our testicles and
the end of our penis. WH Auden memorably called this "the intolerable
neural itch". Try to analyse the "itch" and it soon becomes apparent
that it consists of little more than a large body of semen hollering
to get out and go swimming as fast as possible. The mechanism by
which this cargo of gunge will be released is as crudely sensitive as
it is simple. It is so eager to go that, often, especially when we
are young and eager, it will happen before we have even got our
trousers off. But whether our sperm makes its exit in that
undignified manner, or as a result of well done sex, or badly done
sex, or, indeed, in the course of a good solo session, the sensation
is identical. There is a slight, sweet/sour twitch from the prostate
gland; a rather pleasant muscular gurgle from the testicles, followed
within nanoseconds by a reasonably satisfying liquid rush the length
of the old John Thomas; then, a further fraction of a second later, a
moderately agreeable liquid awareness around the tip. And that, other
than a few moments in a lifetime when there may be an extra fusillade
within the same orgasm (typically, when we have avoided ejaculation
for a lengthy period), is it. There follows a brief spell when we
feel content and sleepy, and our prostate (if we are aware of its
existence, which most of us aren't, until it starts to go wrong in
our forties) aches in quite a nice way.
That level of after-sales service tends to last no more than a few
minutes or hours before the urge builds up again. The lasting thing,
the satisfying thing, for men is not so much the scratching of that
neural itch, but the (admittedly vain) feeling of having impressed,
amazed, delighted, whatever, a woman you like and want to please. I
am almost sorry to admit this, but more than 30 years of sex have
convinced me that the male orgasm in itself is not much more
satisfying than a desperately needed wee. It is my strongly held
conviction, having been doing this stuff since the mullet haircut was
unironically fashionable, that, because of the disappointing nature
of their orgasms, it is men who crave the romantic garnish of the
slow build-up, the wistful gazing, the expression of undying love
around their sexual meat and two veg. Women, however, blessed with a
vastly more satisfying orgasmic mechanism, are able to be more
pragmatic about enjoying sex for sex's sake.
If, and admittedly it is a big if, a woman is with a man who knows
what he is doing, she will get enough physical payback from the deal
to keep her happy for days afterwards and won't be bothered by the
lack of romance, let alone love. Heterosexual men are increasingly
less into sex and more into love; women, more into sex and less into
love. This is entirely to do with the vastly better quality of the
female orgasm compared with the male version. I have talked to men
about having sex with prostitutes, which many women mistakenly
believe is the male ideal. Most men find it far less enjoyable than
they believe it will be. Emotionally uninvolved sex is a letdown for
men.
I was discussing these matters with a female friend the other day. I
thought she might be the one to undermine my theory. She is a fairly
traditional, monogamous, moral, quite religious girl, who, while
deeply involved with her career, will admit she is also actively
husband-hunting. I put my view to her that sex without a backdrop of,
at least, deep affection and, at best, love, is a waste of time and
we would all be better off doing it for ourselves. She couldn't have
agreed less. "I'm totally faithful to my boyfriends," she said, "and
I will practise and demand complete loyalty from my husband. In my
experience, though, there's absolutely nothing to beat a night of
good, old-fashioned sex with a guy who's really good and makes me
come lots, but who leaves when he's told � and doesn't start phoning
and e-mailing the next day and becoming a nuisance." Vive, as they
say, la diff�rence.
Jonathan Margolis is the author of O: The Intimate History of the
Orgasm (Century �14.99)
Intimacy is the main point of sex for me, and without it, I'd rather just have a wank whenever my hormones act up. Some other men might get their emotional kicks out of of bragging to their male friends, marking a tally on a mental scoreboard, an ego-boosting sense of satisfaction at a job well done (that's a secondary factor that I enjoy) or whatever else appeals to them, but I suspect it's only a small minority of men for whom the physical enjoyment of sex is the primary motivation for engaging in it.
