If this is true, women are the ultimate weapon. We shouldn’t be bombing the fuck out of our enemies, we should be fucking the bomb out of them. Strategy dictates the best way to defeat an adversary is to make them a friend; can you think of a better way to accomplish this? Male hyper-aggressive tendencies come from an excess of testosterone, so if you want us to stop fighting, fuck us.
And then make us a sandwich, please.
Let’s do a quick summary. In World Peace part 1, we established that great sex reinforces love. In World Peace part 2, men were admonished to make a woman feel safe and beautiful, and provide constant mental stimulation, to make the bedroom boil. Ladies, today it’s your turn. Contrary to what you’ve been told, showing up naked is insufficient. Put down your Cosmo and pick up your notepads, because today we’re going to address how women can contribute to world peace.
Not long ago, a good female friend confided in me that she was disappointed in her new lover’s sexual performance. When I asked how he responded to her dismay, she confessed she’d said nothing, out of fear of hurting his feelings. I asked her frankly what was more important: protecting his fragile ego, or her sexual satisfaction?
When I was still a teenager, I was fortunate enough to have a lover inform me in no uncertain terms, how utterly pathetic I was in bed. This may have been the greatest act of kindness any woman has ever done for me. I swore a silent oath to myself to become a lover “ne plus ultra;” from that day forward, even if I was with a woman only once, I wanted to be a smile on her face when she was old and grey that her grandchildren wouldn’t understand.
With my ego decimated, I was free to learn about myself, and about a woman’s body. She gave me books to read, exercises to do, specific foods to eat. Under her tutelage I became versed in all manner of ancient Tantric technique. However, the most important lesson she taught me was this: it is the responsibility of the individual to inform–and if necessary, instruct–their partner the in best ways to please them.
How to broach the subject of unsatisfactory sexual performance is a matter of delicacy and diplomacy. When dealing with egos, I highly recommend the “Red Ball Maneuver.” Visualize whatever issues you need to discuss with your partner, and form them into a small, red rubber ball that fits into the palm of your hand. Now, imagine yourself throwing it as hard as you can at his face. The reaction you’re likely to receive is anger, defensiveness, retaliation, and a fractured ego. Now take that same red ball, smile, say “here, catch,” and gently toss it in your partner’s direction.
Words tend to be received in the spirit they are given. Compliments are important but, honesty is more important. Men can’t hear what you don’t say.
Relationships are a constant cycle of conflict and resolution. As counter-intuitive as this might sound, it’s necessary, as without a level of tension there can be no release. This may be the trickiest aspect a woman can master in her quest to become a masterful lover, as you need to know how to create tension without actually becoming contentious.
It’s a common fallacy to believe that men want docile women, but nothing could be further from the truth. Here is where the myth that men love bitches is born, in that the woman who challenges you also presents you with the opportunity to assert yourself. Conversely, the mystique of the bad boy; there is something innately seductive about the person who manages to ignore your obvious charms. We want to overcome, and be overcome by, that which resists us.
Unfortunately, too many people of both genders end up in unhealthy situations: addicted to drama, mistakenly buying into the misconception that strife equals excitement. It is possible to create healthy cycles of tension based on heightened and prolonged states of arousal. Ladies, by all means be loving, be kind, be compassionate; you’re the softer side of us. But never underestimate the power of discreet, utter inappropriateness. Combine your high sex drive with low inhibitions, and be his fantasy; become his porn. Forever emblazoned in memory is the girlfriend who once, with the sweetness of an angel, asked me if we could forego a night of lovemaking, and asked instead if I could “just fuck her, really hard.”
Let a man be a man
Once long ago, men were warriors. We hunted, we provided; in a world where humans lacked claws, fangs, or even fur, through sheer force of will we became the dominant species on the planet. Thousands of years of animal instincts remain, despite an absolute dearth of appropriate opportunities to engage them.
Our survival still depends on the ability to channel aggression, but we’ve been pacified, emasculated. We’re asked to be kinder, gentler: in modern society all manner of outright aggression is frowned upon. Add to this long overdue opportunities for gender equality in education and subsequently, occupation. Today’s women are stronger, smarter, and more gainfully employed than any generation in history. Frequently women out-earn their parters; men are no longer needed as providers.
Speaking in behalf of Alpha Males everywhere, we’re okay with this, honestly. A true Alpha in no way feels threatened by a woman who is his equal or better; in fact it’s quite the opposite. Few things are more arousing than being desired by somebody who doesn’t need you. Power remains the greatest aphrodisiac, and nothing is sexier than a woman who is secure enough in her sensuality, to acquiesce. Today’s powerful woman has the opportunity to privately reclaim the femininity she sheds of necessity in public life, behind closed doors. The boudoir thus becomes the final bastion for bestial behavior.
Let’s be perfectly clear about this: in no way am I endorsing the subjugation of any woman on any level, anywhere, ever. Any man who forces himself upon a woman without her consent has forfeit his right to live. Therein lies the crux: the person with the power to grant or rescind permission is, ultimately, in control. Ladies, you always have final authority sexually; no man can enter the oval orifice without your approval. We require your accord, stated or tacit, to be savages.
There’s power in surrender. The woman who can toss her hair back, cast a knowing look over her shoulder, and whisper “take me” is in for the kind of ravaging suitable from a modern man reclaiming his forsaken right to masculinity.
If we all put that amount of energy into becoming better lovers, would there be any time or reason left for war?
© j summers 2011