Bad Sex

I'm wondering, how many men in their late-30s, 40s, or early-50s would admit to having bad sex?

The universe of men across those age ranges to whom I've posed the question is small. Neither scientifically nor statistcally significant. But if memory serves even half-right, I would posit that these men would deny, deny, deny, rather than admit they ever had bad sex.

"It's just my opinion," to quote Dennis Miller when he used to be funny, "I could be wrong."

Women, on the other hand, women of all ages, cop to the occasional bad sex moment. The unison of "Oh yes..." Oh, yes. We agree, a good meal is always better than bad sex. I'll go one further and suggest that 75% dark chocolate is better than bad sex. Any day, anytime.

So, while at Matador last Friday night, celebrating L-Diva's birthday, La Latina raised the question to one of the revelers, a charming young man, not quite at that three-decade threshold. I stepped into the start of their conversation. With disarming candor, this young fellow held forth. I'll call him Johnny-Tonsil. The faux moniker has nothing to do with bad sex, and everything to do with photographs.

Here's his story.

"I was out with my friends. One of the girls in the group, she's a flirty type. She had her hands all over me. One of those chatty types, she talked a little dirty, a dirty-talker. So I went back to her place, she was all over me in the cab - so I thought - you know. We go up to her apartment, and there I am, sitting on her sofa.

With. This. Big. Hard-on.

And she takes out a photo album and starts paging through telling me stories, pointing at pictures."

I interjected. "What did you do?"

"I lost my hard-on." He laughed. Genuine.

I was reminded of part of a line from William Styron's Sophie's Choice. The lead character, a young fellow called Stingo, is out on a disastrous date with a girl named Leslie Lapidus. She talks all the time. She says the word "fuck" a lot. But she's won't have sex with him. Finally, after learning that she is a virgin (among other things), Stingo says to her "...you mean you can say fuck but you can't still do it!"

It got worse for Johnny-Tonsil. The girl took him to bed, but insisted that they keep their underwear on. She dry-humped him for ages, he said. "Maybe she got off on it. Maybe the rubbing did something to her. But I felt like I was rubbed raw."

We women know something about rubbing raw. We said, "Oh yeah," right there and then, almost in unison.

"Yeah," he added. Well, I did remove my underwear. But it didn't help much. I was sore."

La Latina asked, "But did you have sex with her?"

"Well, yes. But it wasn't good. I would get hard, then not. It felt like it went on forever. And I couldn't get out of there. I wasn't going to find a cab at that hour. In Brooklyn."

We laughed. Right, there are no cabs in Brooklyn.

I thought of my Uncle Michael, who drove a cab in NYC during the Viet Nam war. The family lived in Brooklyn, trending toward moving to Queens. He picked up fares into and out of Manhattan, through Brooklyn.

Johnny Tonsil told his story without apparent artifice, without guile. He was so up-front, so forthright. We women collected around him, we were drawn to him. His story endeared him, whether he knew it or not.

Then Catnip, a friend with whom he rolls (yes, that Catnip), turned up, and I told him that Johnny-Tonsil shared his bad sex story. He looked over to his friend.

"You told them that story? About that girl?"

I looked quickly between them. "It's true, then isn't it."

"Yeah it is," he said. "It's awesome."

Younger men, by a generation or so. Open, unabashed, ironic. Self-effacing and comfortable in their own skins. Sexy. Good sexy.

Comments

[GVWonder]

The question isn't whether these men have had bad sex, but rather, would they admit having bad sex to you, let alone, any woman. The male biological imperative would have us put forth a positive answer/advertisement for sex as one could never know the questioners true intentions. Who wants to be known as the guy who has bad sex, given the fault may be perceived as his? The horror. It doesn't take working out a Nash equilibrium to conclude this. It's equivalent to asking a man about his penis size - amazing how nobody is below average.

That said, under the guise of pseudo-anonymity, I've not only had bad, but awful and woefully average sex. We can't all bat 1000.

HH responds: The thing about the young-ish man who told his story - as given in Bad Sex - is that he appeared to be so comfortable in his own skin that he could relate it with relative equanimity. If anything, his candor made him appealing. That's the point. Like men who don't have size issues, he was open - and I wonder if that is a function of age.

[White Diamonds]

So, after this, Ive been nonchalantly asking around, out of curiosity to all generations, all flavors...

Well, it seems as if, in the first place, a man will never say there is such a thing as bad sex! "Hey if you have something to bang! It's a bang! In and out and you're done!"
Unlike us women, we take so much more into account!
But as an afterthought, some have admitted(!) to having had bad sex.
One said, "You know, the ones you regret, where you feel guilty!!!"

So that, that was a surprise! Since when men have guilt!?
Or better yet, since when do they admit it!?

HH responds: Superb insight. Superb.