“Pray tell, why would a gentleman not ask his paramour such an evident question?”
“In view of said gentleman’s opinions, ’twas nary to be expected that he would give consideration to the issue of female corporeal felicity.”
Ouch.
Is that how she sees me? A brute who couldn’t care less if the woman enjoyed his lovemaking?
The sting makes me mean.
“My opinions are rooted in science,” I say. “In nature, it’s the male pleasure that drives reproduction. Rival males fight, and the winner gets to breed, whether the female likes him or not, whether she’s in the mood for sex or not.”
“You’re grossly oversimplifying.”
“Perhaps, but it’s the truth,” I say. “Mother Nature is all about optimization. The males’ pleasure is enough to increase the chances of survival of the flock, herd, or pack. The females’ pleasure is, therefore, redundant.”
She eyes me narrowly. “Yet here we are, human females, with our libidos and our clitorises…”
“Sounds like an anomaly to me.”
“Not so fast! Science has shown that female primates enjoy sex, too. And don’t get me started on the dolphins!”
“I want to hear about the dolphins.”
“They have sex all the time, even when the female is pregnant and there is no chance of reproduction.”
My mouth curves into a small smirk. “Cute, but does that prove the females take pleasure in it?”
“Their vulvas, very similar to ours, become engorged with blood when the female dolphin is sexually stimulated. And their clits are strewn with nerve endings.”
I feel my smirk turn into a smile. “Good for them.”
“And while we’re in the marine environment, the male argonaut octopus has something to say about your claim on the preeminence of male pleasure.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “He does?”
“Oh, yes!”
It occurs to me that she might be bullshitting me. “You’re making this up. How would you know these things?”
“Research, silly! I wrote an article for a feminist webzine a few months ago.”
“About marine sex?”
Her lips curve up. “Among other things.”
“OK, tell me about the male argonaut octopus.”
“His penis is detachable.” She gives me a moment to process that.
I cringe in horror.
Looking very pleased with herself, she goes on, “The male argonaut octopus propels his penis in the direction of the female who catches his eye. The penis swims off to her.”
“What, all by itself? Completely detached?”
“Completely! And when it mates with the female, the act procures the male no pleasure at all.”
I shake my head with compassion. “Poor guy!”
