Male / Female Reflections

Comments on male female similarities and differences, beyond those obvious to any pubescent drooler, abound at my regular personal domain but they tend to bear somewhat importantly on evolution and our biological survival. Here I just intend to gather a few reflections either frankly erotic: or close. That doesn't mean that evolutionary points won't also apply.

I assume that male and female in all species are "equally" sexed; but that the symptoms won't show at all equally. The male's pursuit of getting it off is obvious, direct: almost pathetic; the female's pursuit is more oblique, better camouflaged: easily confused with some associated behavior. For example, a man staring at a female bosom is obviously staring; a woman changing a male infant's diaper is not. Society keeps some sort of records of males (of the wrong class) helping themselves to so much as a glimpse of females (of the right class). There are no statistics of how many baby boys had their genitals rubbed by their mother, their nurse, their wet nurse, their baby sitter ...

Of course differences are hard to measure. The male's sexuality is "90%" located in his genitals (and vastly unevenly distributed there: the glans being 90% more sensitive than the shaft, the testes some other unequal share); the female's sensuality is more distributed over her whole body. Sure her clitoris or her nipples are highly sensitive: but so is her forearm, her triceps, the back of her hand: not just the inside of her thigh. A woman gets fractional orgasms from a spring breeze that a male doesn't even register on a male.

I further observe (and suspect further yet) that ... whoops, lost that thought: I'll return when it re-rears its head.

We see dogs on the street, in the park, in the yard. When not in heat, all "females" might as well be neuter. Virtually all males are grab-assy faggots. The moment a female nears heat however, every male becomes a mad pussy-eater. Fine. Me too. Although it's annoying after a while how one-sided the activity seems to be. You see males scampering after indifferent-seeming female hind ends as the female cycle nears; you do not come upon dogs paired up in male / female 69s every other hour. The female goes about her business while the male tries to eat.

One summer visiting the Catskills, artist Cuca Romley, her daughter, and I stood at the side of a meadow and watched two cows, female of course, gang up on a poor bored bull. The cows kept backing their hind ends against his nose. He'd back away, seeming mildly annoyed, and resume his foraging for grass. Was he very young? Were the "girls" just mocking him? That is, would they have been playing indifferent to a mature bull sniffing their snatch? Were these two cows near their ovulation? don't Know: but I've never seen that behavior in dogs.

Anyway, I've mated my dog more than once and watched carefully on those occasions where the mating was supervised (as distinct from opportunities he found on his own). Angus walked perpetually after the fragrant bitch to lick her. He'd get the merest taste and she'd walk off: indifferent seeming. At no point did she throw herself down, spread her thighs, and wholly (pun) indulge both herself and Angus: in her early days, that is. Around day nine her behavior would change. She'd walk away after three beats, not after one. And every other time, just as she'd walk away, she sneak a quick lick at his maleness. Now: I never saw a bitch dog take the male in her mouth and finish him there. Dogs don't waste cum. But at least the male did finally get a lick or two after offering hundreds himself.

And on day eleven? I've already told elsewhere how both penetration and orgasm were accomplished in a mid-air meeting before any of eight paws touched the ground! No fuckin' around: she was pregnant.

Dogs aren't people. Neither are cows. But we're all mammals. I've watched snakes fuck, and been utterly amazed. Nothing humans do can compare to totally sensuousness distributed over eight or twelve feet times two, lovingly caressing every micrometer of the way. Anyway, there are certainly analogies: close analogies among the mammals. I closely courted a young mother for a day or two a couple of decades ago in a Florida state park when she suggested that we leave our separate campers where they were in Jupiter and drive in one car to the Keys for a couple of days, sharing expenses for a motel. That night, in Islamorada, she put her son to sleep in one bed, tucked him on one side leaving plenty of room for her on the other and went to the shower. I got into the other double bed and doused the lights. When she emerged from the bathroom in a robe she came to "my" bed, not her son's. She whispered oh so quietly, "I'll visit here but sleep there. You may make love to me once, but only once. Then, never again. Don't forget that I'm here with my fiancé's leave. As soon as we're done, I'm loyal to him again." (This fiancé was not the boy's father: neither was her first husband. I'd come to know her pretty well in thirty or so hours. Fortunately for me, I (with my SybaRight Newman blue eyes, reminded her of the boy's actual sire.)

"Agreed," I said.

"Are you naked?" she asked.

"Yes." She drew back my sheet. I scooted over to make room for her. She instantly shed her robe, and, as she lay down next to me—here's my whole point, her right hand unerringly did the fastest, neatest, but somehow most complete, once-over of both my erection and balls! First, (she had radar) the dick, up, around, and down. Then, the balls. Then, she never touched me again: she just received me.

No, not my mouth. That she was clear and firm about. She wanted me to mount her; not eat her, not 69 her. I was similarly quick in kissing her breast. And then we were merely the beast with two backs.

(That fuck lasted a good while, but once I came I wasn't quite sure she'd come as much as she might. She stayed in my bed while I offered her my hand. She'd refused my mouth, but she accepted my fingers. And masturbating her was simply wonderful. What a pussy! What an ass. Though I still ache that I never tasted her. This girl was young. Astonishingly beautiful. And very rich. (She was in Jupiter partly to shop for beachfront property on which to build a house: that's right: next door to J. SybaRight Getty! or the Burt Reynolds.) I've been with beautiful women. I've been with rich woman. I've been with beautiful and rich women. But never before had I seen a woman of any degree of beauty with such a wardrobe for travel. I never saw her wear anything, including years later on a separate visit to Florida, that didn't look like an original from Rodeo Drive. Even her panties looked like they'd been designed by Salvador Dali: hardly more than a tea bag to cover the vulva and nothing at all to cover the ass: yet, there was nothing obscene about them. No, these were not Las Vegas pants.)

I tell the story with different details than I'd previously told elsewhere: to emphasize how fleeting was her female touch of the male genitalia, yet to emphasize that the touch was there. I also emphasize how amazing it was because we had never been together before: how could she have known my coordinates, my locations so perfectly in genuine dark. She didn't know if I was naked, but did know minutely where everything was. She touched all of everything: once: and then onto her back to get fucked.

So: men and woman do the same things: but in grossly different proportions: and at vastly different times: frequencies, etc.

Like a dog, I want to eat: almost all the time; the girl, seems indifferent; but will use her mouth at least once: and when it counts most!

Oh, I've been blown by women as I walk through their front door. She'll have my pants around my knees, my drawers around the tops of my thighs, my balls in her hand, and my dick in her mouth, before the door has finished closing. But that's unusual. I want to dive on the muff before the door is closed "all the time." And even the time I just describe, the blow job was prelude, incomplete, a minute later she had me in the bed, on top of her, fucking away, and not blowing my load the first second, indeed, finally coaxing me, quite the opposite of reigning me back. "Oh, you're so full," she murmured as again her hand found my balls: this time to trigger me over the edge. Ka-boom.