What Men Don't Know About the Female Orgasm

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John May woke up early that morning for no apparent reason. He brewed up a pot of coffee on that old Mr. Coffee machine that he held on to ever since his graduate school days. If it ain’t broke, why bother to buy a new one, he thought. The cold wind that ran through the streets of Pittsburg did not provide enough incentive for John to put a pair of sweatpants on. In his underwear, he greeted the morning.

John May was the kind of a guy who enjoyed his morning routine and nothing was more central to that routine than the old cup of cup and reading the morning newspaper. John did not have much interest in the news sections, the financials or even the sports. He was the kind of a man who read between the lines searching for a clue. Of course, one could theoretically argue that John was a bit of a conspiracy theory but that was not the case at all (or maybe it was). John knew the ways of the media. He had an undergraduate degree in journalism and knew all about newsroom routines, gatekeeping and media framing. In between the lines was the way that those in charge communicated with one another. In between the advertorials, editorials and daily columns, in the fine print, that was where the truth was hidden from the reading masses.

On page A5 John came across a clue. The headline could not be more convincing.

52% OF WOMEN NEVER EXPERIENCED AN ORGASM, the headline read.

This was exactly the kind of a thing that made you wonder. And if it did not make you wonder, thought John, well at least it should.

Back in the old days, he ran across old Herb Schiller his journalism professor back at the University of California at San Diego. Schiller told the class that they should never believe anything they read in the newspaper.

“Everything that you read in the newspaper, hear on the radio or watch on television is nothing short of a corporate conspiracy to turn you into a better consumer. Those people want you to equate your happiness with the art of shopping. Had a bad day at work, buy some shoes. Your boyfriend cheated on you, take his credit card and get some shopping therapy. Don’t believe anything that they say.” That was the kind of a lecture that would often be heard in Schiller’s seminars. John May loved every part of it. It made sense when you really thought about it.

The coffee tasted a bit rusty that morning. Maybe Pam was right after all. Maybe it was time to buy a new coffee maker and throw away the old dusty machine that he bought at Target for ten dollars more than three years ago.

But what about the headline, he thought could this really be true? Fifty two percent seemed a bit excessive to John. And what those other forty eight percent, he thought. Was it a function of psychology or was it all the guy’s fault as he heard many of his female friends argue. Thinking back to those five women that he somehow managed to lay so far in his short twenty five year career, he could not remember if 2.6 of those women actually did or did not reach sexual climax.

The first time he did it was sometime back in high school. He was a frightened pimple faced junior and she, an overweight twenty four year old woman who seemed more bored than anything on her overextended semester break. Thinking back of that night, he felt nothing but shame when he recalled just how quickly he came just as soon as he felt that incredible touch of the female flesh for the very first time in his life.

Her name was Lucy and she did not protest. She was more of a resourceful type than a complainer. She simply walked into the shower, cleaned herself up and then forced him to eat her out until should reached satisfaction.

Then there was that girl that he met during freshman orientation back at UCSD . She was a stacked woman with enough meat on her to feed a small village in Bangladesh. John did not remember her name. When he thought about it, he never did know it in the first place. They somehow stumbled into bed after a freshman party back in the dorms. John did not have any condoms on him but she insisted on penetration. Twenty seconds later, her sizeable stomach was painted in the colors of white apprehension. She gave him a dirty look and then proceeded to transfer into the bed of his roommate who pretended to be sleeping. John stared at the dorm ceiling as he listened to his roommate Dave give the girl a proper fuck. Ten minutes passed and then he heard a woman come for the first time. Was she faking it out of spite for his non-proficient performance or did Dave really supply the goods. 48% says that it was spite over Dave.

Then there was Patty, the girl he briefly dated during senior year. Patty came from a small town in Alabama. He could not remember if it was Tuscaloosa or someplace right in the area. Patty was a nice girl. She was always kind to John and was the one who taught him how to manage his erections and hold on to them for just a bit longer. She showed him how at a simple push of the external vein, right at the base of the cock, he could buy himself a few more seconds inside.

When it came to Patty Valentine, John had no doubts. If anyone had an orgasm it was her. How did he know? Well she always made a point to announce. Clinching on to his skin, grinding her teeth and pulling his hair she rotated her hips all around, closed her eyes, scratch her nails until she finally shout out that old slogan of the Alabama football team: GOOOOOOOO TIIIIIEEEEDDDD.

Patty loved the University of Alabama football team. This she made clear every Saturday when she watched SEC football. This she made clear on those rare occasions when he managed to hold on long enough to validate the newspaper’s statistics.

John managed to fall in love with Patty Valentine and things were going pretty well until graduation. They talked about moving in together. They talked about graduate school out in Iowa State were John was admitted into a Master’s degree with a guaranteed research stipend for his first three semesters. Things were moving along on track until Patty flew down to Alabama to visit her family a few weeks after graduation. There she met up with her old high school sweetheart Dale Gary who not only played high school football for the champion Cougars but was also a walk on defensive end for the University of Louisiana Raging Cajun football team.

John was crushed when he heard the news. Patty never bothered to fly back to deliver the news face to face. It all happened so quickly over the phone. John tried to reason with her, to win her sympathy, to appeal to her love, but none was left for him. He had no choice but to move on.

After Patty, John took a break from women. They were creatures of betrayal, he thought. Their only loyalty was to their own interests. They knew nothing of a man’s heart.

It was two years later that Pamela came into his world. Pam was not an attractive woman but at least she was nice. At first she refused anything beyond friendship. Why ruin a good thing with all of those complications? She often told him when he tried to come close and kiss her.

Pam introduced John to her girlfriends as her heterosexual gay friend. John never really connected with any of those types. But on one particular Friday night they were playing drinking games and John had way too much to drink. The only thing that he recalled was waking up naked next to Pam’s most horrendous looking friend, Michelle. Nothing was to ever be spoken of that night, he pledged. The shame was beyond him. Number four would be kept secret for as long as possible. He only hoped that Pam would never find out about the events that took place on that night. Despite his best hopes, Michelle told her all but Pam did not seem to mind.

About a year later, to his surprise, Pam turned into number five. He could not be any happier.

John stared at the newspaper headline and scratched his head. There was so much that he did not know about women. Unfortunately, he did not too many male friends to give him any advice.

Later one, when Pam woke up, she poured herself some Hazelnut creamer into her rusty cup of coffee.

“Don’t believe everything that you read in the newspaper John. That statistic could only be written by a man and obviously, a relatively ignorant one. The real numbers are much lower than you would think. I even doubt that 33% of women ever experienced a multiple orgasm and numbers may actually be lower.

John was never that good when it came down to statistics. Back when he was an undergraduate student, he barely passed the Introduction to Business Statistics course with a below average grade of C-. As for women, newspaper headlines and the rest of the world, John all but understood that he will never truly understand.

“Did you ever have a real orgasm with me?” he asked of Pam.

She in turn simply smiled and said, “Well of course I did sweaty, you gave me many.”

John felt better for a moment until he recalled that university lecture back in his undergraduate days at UCSD where he learned not to trust anything that was printed in the newspaper, heard on the radio or seen on TV but more than anything else he learned never to trust the smile of a more experienced woman.

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