The real question here is: Why would any man do this? Don’t we spend most of our busy hours—and all of our bored ones—plotting to get women into bed with us, just to have the opportunity to orgasm? How could I be so ungrateful? So careless with my good fortune?
Point taken. But the problem with that attitude is that it doesn’t account for system malfunctions. Totally natural system malfunctions. Picture this: Woman beneath me. We’ve had sex a handful of times before. The thrill of new sex has maybe given way to the part where I’ve found a comfortable, familiar rhythm and started to scan the spines on her bookshelf. It’s very late. I’m very drunk. Numb. Psyching myself out here now. Plus, I need sleep. In fact, I must sleep. As I rapidly approach 40, if you offered me the choice between the hottest sex of my life or the greatest nap of all time, well, I would have a lot of trouble making that choice. So I decide: This must end.
Perfect sex is pretty much a myth. And men shouldn’t be ashamed of that. When a pitcher has a bad night, it doesn’t mean he’s a bad pitcher. Shit happens. How often does a pitcher even throw a complete game? The manager just comes out, takes the ball, pats you on the ass, and gets some- one else to ﬁnish the job. “Now completing the sex act with your girlfriend, number 42, Mariano Rivera!”