Testosterone vs. Estrogen

My Darling Man,

I love having sex with you.

When we’re rolling around, breathless and sweaty, I feel like a wild woman hell bent on pleasure and satisfaction – both yours, and mine.

But I’m having a problem that I hope you can help me with.

I want to have more sex with you and I want it more often.

I know some people say that men and women are as far away on the sexual bandwidth as AM and FM radio, but I disagree. I think we are on the same frequency and that a small tuning adjustment can have us making erotic music together as passionately and as eagerly as when we first met.

Here’s what I think is going on.

We run on different fuels. I’m an estrogen-based make and model, which has a slightly different transmission than your testosterone version.

Your man-beast of a muscle car has a lot of horsepower and is optimized for crossing distances quickly like a professional drag racer. It’s strong, loud and proud and I find it tantalizing and thrilling when I’m ready for the race.

My sweetly curved, feminine self is styled to be more of a cruise mobile. I’m designed to cover longer distances so I’m built for a soft, comfortable, cushioned ride.

While we’re both able to get to where we want to go, hot and steamy sex land, my engine needs to be warmed up a bit longer than yours does before it’s ready to be taken for a spin.

This is where I could use your help.

If you were to give me a boost every now and again, by adding some of these specialized accessories into my car-purr-ator I’ll drive like a dream and handle like the best made European car on the market; responsive and able to travel at high speeds with a welcoming interior, made just for you.

Massage me. Touch me. Stroke me in a loving and non-sexual way. Run your strong fingers tenderly along my jawline while looking into my eyes as you head out the door for the day. Just the thought of that is making me tingle inside and that feeling will last all day long for me – remember I’m built for distance.

Notice me. Comment on how valuable I am to you and others. Just like when your boss gives you that pat on the back for a job well done, I too revel in the pride of being acknowledged. It adds to my confidence levels and that gets translated into my naked time with you.

Compliment me about something other than my body.

I appreciate that you’re so into my form but my estrogen-based fuel makes me a bit more emotionally focused than you are most of the time. This means that I thrive and flourish under the well-oiled recognition of my internal assets rather than my external ones.

Tell me how much you adore my laugh.

Mention how much you appreciated the way I took our kids out on Saturday morning so you had a quiet house to catch up on some much-needed sleep after that exhausting business trip.

Words of recognition tune my engine in ways that will get breathlessly whispered in your ear the next time I’m wearing that cowgirl hat.

Take me out.

Make plans for a date.

Spontaneously invite me for lunch on Wednesday afternoon and ask me to meet you at that hot dog cart that always smells so good. We can people watch while trying not to drip ketchup on our clothes and grab a quick coffee afterwards. The truth is even if I can’t meet you the fact that you asked me activates my spark plugs. When you take the time to consider and plan a date for us, regardless of how simple or lavish, my sexual RPM’s increase so quickly that shifting from first to fourth happens at the speed of a kiss, which brings me to my last favour.

Slow Down.

Go easy.

Savour me.

Your high revving engine excites me but sometimes I’m a bit overwhelmed by it too.

Imagine being asked by your best friend to drop by for a quick beer on a Sunday afternoon and walking in to find he’s also invited his son’s baseball coach. No big deal right? Except that this coach is also the client you’ve been trying to arrange a meeting with for the past six months and you’re unshaven and unprepared.

We both know you’ll rock that meeting because you know your stuff inside and out but it’ll probably take you a few minutes to get over the unexpected, steady yourself, and warm up to the scene.

The same goes for sex and me.

When I’m presented with your high-powered, nitrous boosted desire it takes me a few minutes to catch up.

If we could slow down a little in the beginning I’m sure our speedometers would align quicker than we think and that checkered flag would drop to signal yet another lusty evening for two.

Now that I’ve shared the secrets of how my estrogen fuelled sex machine works with you, I look forward to hearing all about yours…

originally published in: The Good Men Project

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