While some people willingly admit it, most people secretly wish they could be known as a great lover. Society often convinces women that they must possess the sensitivity of Sappho, the youthful exuberance of Lolita, the confidence of Mae West, the experience of a high-class call-girl, comprehensive training in the art of the Kama Sutra, and all while remaining somewhat virginal.
Similarly, the male populace often feels like they must have the endurance of a Navy Seal, the comedic timing of Robin Williams, the crowd-pull of the latest flavor-of-the-month rock star, a list of lovers longer than Don Juan, a reputation that equals Casanova, while having an arsenal of kinky sex techniques that would make the Marquis de Sade blush.
Although I was not a virgin when one of my high school teachers decided to unofficially invest a lot of time in my sex-education—which I thought rather odd for a history teacher to do—I was still somewhat surprised at society’s ever-changing and seemingly impossible qualifications to achieve the reputation of a great lover. And I still refuse to believe the absurd claim of Cock Robin of Peckerwood, and how he satisfied a dozen pussies simultaneously: one with each finger plus penis and tongue. After all, the most I ever satisfied simultaneously was four pussies—with tongue, dick, and both hands wielding vibrators—and that only happened once in an adolescent wet dream.
I can truthfully say that I’ve had more than my share of female companionship. But whether that has to do with my stunning good looks (and you can ask the entire class at the Helen Keller Finishing School), my savoir faire sales pitch (I can close a relationship deal faster than any used car salesman selling recycled condoms in prison), or the repetitive use of my honey-flavored dick trick, I couldn’t say. Heck, maybe I simply had a bad case of halitosis and didn’t know it. Oops! There goes another one, So, it’s back to the dating game again.
Honestly, I did have my share of ladies and an abundant sex-life. But after getting physically messed-up during my military hitch—becoming partially disabled—I was obviously concerned about my prospects for a future love-life.
Like most young men I had, at least partially, bought into society’s lies. So, I was worried my sexual stamina might not fully recover as my body healed. Especially when considering that just below my diaphragm to just above my crotch I have enough scars to look like a freeway map of Los Angeles.
Convinced I needed an edge to remain competitive in the social arena I devoured books on sex. But, I added something most young men never consider, books on understanding women. Whether it was from the male perspective, female perspective, medical or psychological perspectives, I didn’t care; I read them all. That is, until I awoke one morning and realized I was thinking like a woman. But I had that exorcised right out of me, and my head didn’t spin around like Linda Blair’s.
In hindsight, I doubt I needed to invest the amount of time and effort that I did in learning about sex and women. However, the effort was clearly rewarded. But now we come to the million-dollar question: Did all the women, experience, and book knowledge make me a “Great Lover?”
Yes, much of it was enjoyable. But an equal amount was meaningless. And while there is a certain amount of male pride that develops when pleasuring women almost seems to come naturally—yep, the natural result of decades of sexual exploration and experience—you quickly come back to reality when you realize the vast majority of it has no bearing on whether you’re a “great lover” in the eyes of your present mate.
Now, I know a lot of you older guys who know the simple recipe for being a great lover are probably screaming, “Don’t give it away, dumbass! Let them find it the hard way like we did. It’ll be hilarious watching them continually fuck-up.”
I say, get over it. We’re suppose to be mentors to the next generation.
So, all you young guys listen up. Especially if you still think fucking only has one speed (jackhammer hard), if you think foreplay is a golf term, if you think sex should not last longer than a commercial break, or if your after-sex ritual is rolling over and going to sleep.
Here it is: the quality of lovemaking between you and your mate strictly relies on the level of love, respect, trust, and amount of communication your relationship is built on. It’s that simple!
The more you love, respect, and trust each other the deeper and more honest and open your communication will be. The better the communication the more intimately you will know her. And when you discover all her intimate desires and fantasies, and learn all her favorite body points, along with what triggers her lusts, fulfilling them on a regular basis will quickly elevate your sexual prowess in her eyes.
In other words, if you don’t want to learn all about your mate in order to fulfill her wants and needs, you will never be a great lover in her eyes.
The choice is up to you.