Why can’t guys own up to their own sexual desires? Last month I asked out this totally lickalicious guy. “Where do you want to take me?’ he asked when I called…
Need Wood: So You’re a Bad Boy…Live With It!
by: Woody Miller
Why can’t guys own up to their own sexual desires? Last month I asked out this totally lickalicious guy. “Where do you want to take me?’ he asked when I called. “To bed,” I said, “but I have a feeling you’re going to make me stop at a restaurant first.” He acted all insulted even though I was clearly KIDDING (sort of). He basically said there was no way we were going to have sex, that he was offended by the thought of doing it on a first date. Throughout dinner he went on and on about how it takes him a long time to get comfortable enough with a guy to have sex. I’m thinking, “I’m not dating a guy; I’m dating a girl!”
Anyway, we go back to my place after dinner and I pour us a nightcap. I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to get any that night. I go to the bathroom and when I come out guess what Mr. I Don’t Do That On The First Date is doing? Sitting on my couch with nothing on but his underwear. He took all his clothes off when I was in the bathroom.
I burst out laughing, about to point out the hypocrisy of jabbering on about “respectability” when I realized that it might jeopardize my chances of laying hands upon the wonderment.
So we start making out and I lead him into the bedroom. As my hands migrated south he turns Mary Magdalene on me again. *“What do you want from me?”* he pushed me away half-heartedly. *“Where is this going?”*
*“Where is this going?”* I repeated. “In your ass,” I wanted to say, “Hopefully, with intermediate stops in your mouth.”
But I didn’t. I was too horny to risk alienating him. Anyway, I finesse the situation and like, half an hour later I’m inside him while he’s yelling *“F–k me, you big-d–ked bastard!”*
What is it with these guys, woody? Why do they talk like the Virgin Mary at dinner and act like a whore in bed? I thought only chicks did that?
I’m right there with you, babe. I don’t know how many times that’s happened to me. And you know who the worst offenders are? Southern men. They want to be seen as the “good girl” reserved for a lucky few and not what Bette Davis once called Marilyn Monroe: “The original good time had by all.”
Although Southern guys are the worst offenders they’re not alone. A lot of guys struggle with a roiling internal conflict: They want to “drop trou and rut” at the first sign of a decent-looking guy, but that goes against their own self-image. What do you get when concern for propriety is equaled by a hunger for d–k? Dates like yours.
Those are the guys who revel in what Philip Roth called “The ecstasy of sanctimony.” They love sex but not the image of someone who loves sex. So they build a sanctimonious façade: Squeaky clean on the outside, squeaky butt hole on the inside. And that’s why you get this come here/go away/I-don’t-do-that-on-the-first-date-but-I-will-on-our-last-can-this-be-our-last?
Are these guys right? Is casual sex a character flaw? Of course not. Sex is an expression of our physicality, not a barometer of our morality.
Sometimes it’s not hypocrisy at work, but rather, a fondness for role-play. Some guys like being seduced “against their will” (wink, wink). They pretend to fight an advance and then surrender to it.
Either way, I say play along. If all it takes to get in his pants is to pretend his pretensions are real, then so what? Lying, like alcohol, is an indispensable tool for getting laid. If it works for him, it’ll work for you.