Whereas we women talk about everything. In sordid detail. All the time.
When Dean and I first started dating, for instance, he was shocked to discover that, since I was friends with two of his ex-girlfriends, I already knew, sight unseen, practically everything about his preferred sexual positions, what he's likely to say in moments of coital extremity, and the size and shape of his genitalia. He was even more appalled to discover that everyone in our little girl gang knew as well. The first time he dropped trou in front of me, I stunned him further (on purpose, I admit it) by saying, "Ohmigod, so that's what she meant!" (Not that this gave him any kind of significant pause, mind you.)
Sex and the City happens every day, Dear Reader. Among women you know.
For instance, I know:
- that Girl A gets paid 10,000 bucks by her boyfriend every time she consents to have anal sex
- that Guy B has pubic hair so lushly extravagant my friend had to tell herself, "Once more, dear friends, into the breach!" before plunging in to perform fellatio
- that Girl C makes her boyfriend tie his t-shirt over his face before they make love
- that Guy D is so big that his girl simultaneously adores it and complains about it
- that Girl E, despite a scandalous reputation for being hot to trot, has never actually had a non-masturbatory orgasm in her life
One of these examples involves me, by the way--and if you're one of my close girl friends, you can ask me in person and I will tell you aaalll about it.
Because we talk. We talk dirty, and we hold nothing back, and yes, I'm afraid we laaaugh. Some of us (like me) think "What the fuck, it's just sex." To others, sex is something sacred and profound... which means, all the more reason to discuss it with your gal pals. So we just don't understand why men don't regularly do the same.
Come on, guys. Are you not amused?