The Penis, and What We Owe It

The penis, a body part revered, adored, and glorified by many cultures.  It has erected a myriad of tributes in its honor from the Washington Monument, to almost every of sculpture from Ancient Greece. Supposedly I even secretly envy penile power, after all how could my carnivorous vagina ever compare to its’ penetrating prowess? To be clear, I have no problem with love sticks and their bing-bongs. They’re nice enough, despite being a little pushy and intrusive at times.  Here is my issue with how the penis hangs. In situations of a sexual nature, why is there an expectation that women somehow owe the penis anything?

Whether a woman and man are together in a bedroom, car, or bathroom stall, there is an imposed cultural assumption that the penis has priority. This presumption leaves the lady as the weiner’s primary ejaculation enabler. While Nora Jones wistfully wonders why she didn’t come, we women feel morally obligated to ensure the wangs we engage with erupt.  I think it’s time ladies need to have the same genuine concern for our purple beans as we do for a man’s blue balls.

I don’t mean to imply there aren’t many men out in the cosmos who already care about whether their lady leaks love juices.  I also don’t think this psychic grip exists in the minds of men alone. Women perpetuate this paradigm by fulfilling our society’s expectation that if a couple goes past second base, the gal’s role is to ensure his penis sneezes.

Are women biologically predisposed to prioritize the needs of others, since otherwise we would be reptilian moms who devoured our young if it they didn’t get away fast enough?  Or are we the victims of social conditioning, expected to be “good girls” who are considerate and agreeable?  Wanting to make out with a guy shouldn’t mean women feel the pressure to pleasure him fully. Nor should your mouth or forearm have to get sore simply so he can go to sleep.

I am not going to blame the rooster and his eggs for wanting to come – of course he does! I am sure it is hard to go around with a hard-on that won’t get un-hard.  Being an external appendage, the wingy-ding grows out into the world with excitement, reminding its owner “Hey! Deal with me or I am going to stretch out your pants!”  Whereas our internal fuzzy-wuzzy is tucked in like a suitcase and has a more subtle approach. The hoo-ha may technically be a “receptive” sexual organ, but that doesn’t equate it with being passive, or less urgent.

The sheer mechanics of male ejaculation being simpler and usually take less time, doesn’t mean women have a moral obligation to make sure the peen pukes. You are not indebted to his desire simply for turning him on.  Besides, it is not some big accomplishment or even compliment if a guy wants to blow his load when he is around you.  I am not sure if you have looked at the Internet lately, but the simplest things sexually stimulate men.

If you do want to bump crotches with a gentleman and entangle pubic hairs, then go for it. Just remember it is okay to leave him with pitched tent. Some dudes may think that’s the behavior of a “tease,” but those guys also listen to Maroon 5.  Let’s relieve ourselves of this inherent orgasm hierarchy. If we thrust this idea into public perception and penetrate the psyches of women and men everywhere, orgasms will finally deserve their long deserved equal opportunity treatment.