The Sexual Double Standard

Erotica author Fiona McGier joins us today. Her topic is one close to my heart. Well, actually, another part of my anatomy. (g) However, like her, I am a one-man woman, but I believe that women should have the choice without the stigma. Go, Fiona!

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Okay, so I'm about fed up with hearing men defend the recent infidelity peccadilloes of celebrity men as being due to that old canard of: Men need to spread their seed. Monogamy is not natural for them! Oh yeah? And it's natural for women? What are we--just fallow fields sitting around waiting patiently to get noticed by some man with his plow at the ready? Sheesh!

I'm about to put forth an opinion that might not be shared by many women, but in actuality it has more of a basis in nature than some male's tired old defense. Women are actually the ones who benefit the least from monogamy. That's right! Men who marry are taken care of, have better health, get to ensure their children grow up as they want them to, etc. When the wife dies first, unless the widower gets married soon after that, he usually follows soon after her, because his entire support network is now gone--the only one he ever shared his inner self with was his wife.

On the other hand, for women the main benefit of being married is that they can get laid regularly without being slut-shamed by both men and other women! Back when I was in high school during the 70s, I figured that by the time I was raising my own kids, the sexual revolution would have ended and no longer would anyone find it noteworthy if a woman was in charge of her own sexuality. I figured that those who wanted lots of partners would be left alone by those who don't. Boy, was I wrong!

Here are some words from that famous feminist (he really was!) Mark Twain, in his post-humously published Letters from the Earth:

During 23 days in every month (in the absence of pregnancy) from the time a woman (matures) until she dies of old age, she is ready for action, and competent...every day, competent every night. Also, she wants that --yearns for it, longs for it, hankers after it.

But man is only briefly competent...from the age of 16 or 17 thenceforward for 35 years. After 50 his performance is of poor quality...whereas his great-grandmother is as good as new. (Note: male performance-enhancing drugs had not been invented yet in his day.)

Men set the rules for women without consulting the woman, although she has a thousand times more at stake in the matter than he has. His procreative competency is limited...hers is good for 3,000 a year for...as many years as she may live...yet instead of fairly and honorably leaving the making of the law (of monogamy) to the person who has an overwhelming interest at stake in it, this immeasurable hog, who has nothing at stake in it worth considering, makes it himself!

You have heretofore found out, by my teachings, that man is a fool: you are now aware that woman is a damned fool.

So while I understand that not every woman wants sex all of the time, thinks about it constantly, and reads or writes about it when she is not actively involved with doing it, I also say that since we women possess the only organ in the body that has no other function than to give us sexual pleasure, that we are the ones who should be out playing the field, since we are not only ready most of the time, but capable of enjoying ourselves immensely almost every day of our lives! And since we usually outlive men, we are the ones who should be pursuing younger partners who have the energy to keep up with us!

And also we women need to stand up and defend our right to own our own sexuality. Some of us will want to have sex with many partners, either individually or in groups, and no one has a right to sit in judgment or call us names for that! Some of us will choose not to, and there should be no name-calling for that either. Everyone has an appetite for sex, just like an appetite for food. Some are satiated more easily than others. But I'm sick and tired of women being maligned and insulted for doing what nature has designed us to do, which is enjoy having sex, while men are given a wink and a pass to do what comes naturally. Really? I've had male friends ask me if I would rather be a man, so that no one would judge me. I told them I'd never give up multiple orgasms!

Note: I've been happily-married for 27 years to the man I met 30 years ago. We have 4 adult children, but have worked hard to keep the romance alive in our marriage. I never wanted to marry, never wanted to have kids. He sure changed my mind!

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Two For Tuesday, from Whiskey Creek Press/Torrid, is coming soon.

Blurb:

Dr. Marcus Jones is world-famous for inventing a procedure to make cardiac surgery quicker and safer. He has achieved much in the ten years since he graduated from medical school, including accumulating more wealth than he had ever dreamed of growing up in the projects in Chicago. The one area in his life that he has not been successful at is his personal life. His lawyer-wife is divorcing him, but then he was never head-over-heels in love with her. He has only felt that way about one woman...the one he dated back in college...the one who "got away". But he didn't get to be rich and famous by not pursuing his dreams. When he finds her name on the internet he contacts her, determined to see if he can rekindle what they once had together back when he could only spare one night a week away from his studies, and his world revolved around Tuesdays.

Set-up for excerpt: As a medical student on a full scholarship, Marcus only allows himself one night every two weeks off from his studies, since his classwork is so demanding. One night in a bar he performs the Heimlich maneuver on a woman who is choking. Her friends hustle her out the door soon after that. Two weeks later he goes to the same bar for his customary one beer. A very sexy woman saunters up to him and sits next to him, explaining that she is the one whose life he saved.

Excerpt:

"I wanted to think of something I could do to really thank you for saving my life and all. If I could cook, I'd make you dinner, but I'm not really very good in the kitchen. If I could bake, I'd make you cookies, but ditto there. I don't know you well enough to write you a poem, and anyway that's really cheesy, considering you saved my life and all. But there is something I'm really good at."

She paused, really looking at him now, studying him, as if he were a bug under a microscope.

"You're kind of a quiet guy, aren't you?"

He nodded, still unable to make words come out, while his dick throbbed angrily against the zipper of his jeans, as if accusing him of neglect. The smell of her perfume and her skin was intoxicating him, and he was afraid that if she leaned any closer, he would not be able to stop himself from throwing her across the table and tearing her clothes off. He tried not to stare at her erect nipples that threatened to tear holes in her tee shirt, but he was still blushing from what he was imagining, so it was difficult to look her in the eye.

"But you are kind of cute, in an under-fed, nerdy kind of way. Tell you what...what I'm really good at, is screwing. In fact I'm trying to get the college to let me minor in it!"

She smiled at him while his jaw dropped open.

"So, if you're up for it, after we finish our beers we can stroll back to my place, where I conveniently have more beer in the fridge. Then I can really thank you for saving my life! How's that?"

Marcus had not thought it to be possible for his dick to get even harder than it was, but it twitched and throbbed as he imagined burying himself between her thighs. He briefly wondered if he had died and gone to Heaven, but he couldn't remember any kind of accident that might have precipitated him being presented with what he wanted the most. Here was one of the best-looking women he had ever seen up close: long, wavy brown hair with red streaks, light skin with freckles all over...hmm, I wonder just how much of her body has freckles? Thin, but not too thin to have nice tits, nice hips...and the heat radiating off of her was burning him even though they were barely touching. And she wasn't expecting him to buy her dinner, or even to buy her a drink. She was offering to have sex with him, seemingly with no strings attached. In fact her hazel eyes were laughing across the table at him, as if she was daring him to refuse her.

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For more information on Fiona and her writing, visit her website.