The female orgasm can be a puzzle for men — after a while, some guys just say screw it and go play Call of Duty. Jordan Carlos, Girl Code regular and writer for Comedy Centrals The Nightly Show, tells how he cracked the code.
Much like with stand-up, in the bedroom, I had beginner’s luck that gave me a false impression of my abilities. In college, I hooked up with a woman who lost her shit at my slightest touch. How could I not think I was truly the gangster of love? Alas, other women didn’t experience complete particle reversal by simply having me blow in their ear. It got worse. Much worse.
“Just finish. I wasn’t going to come anyway…” has to be the most soul-crushing thing I’ve ever had a woman tell me. Not only did I feel horribly inadequate, but I also felt like a knuckle-dragging cretin. I was inside her, for Pete’s sake! Why weren’t the women I bedded immediately spasming in ecstasy? I mean, didn’t I put my sex part in her sex part? Wasn’t I pumping away like I had seen in all those Skinemax movies? Obviously, I had more work to do.
But what did I really know about women? Nada. And I am the son of an ob-gyn! As such, my understanding of sex was clinical/utilitarian. I knew that to make a baby, people had to make the sex together. I didn’t know where the clitoris was or the mythical G-spot for that matter, but I did know what I saw in movies, and the movies told me that to take a lady to Pleasantville, some amount of oral sex was involved. So I entered a period wherein much of my foreplay repertoire consisted of adhering myself to a young lady’s labia majora like a hungry sea barnacle. Results were mixed.
With each partner, I learned what I was doing wrong. Like not using my fingers and going too heavy on the tongue. I think I may have pulled it a time or two. But I’d become accustomed to rejection, so rather than settle into early-onset celibacy, I soldiered on. And like my routine, it got better!
I think the secret to finally understanding what it took to please a lady came when I found the right one. We both had super-awkward bedroom fun until we weren’t scared of each other anymore and started having mind-bending fun. One night, she told me how she liked it, what angles were “no” and what angles made her say, “More, please!” I was happy she did. Ladies, talk to us. You tell a barista how you like your latte. Baristas aren’t mind-readers, and neither is your guy. And for guys, bringing a woman to orgasm makes us feel unstoppable — 19 percent not mere gangsters of love but veritable “Oh, my god-fathers.”