Look, I know you men have it difficult. Women are just about impossible to understand, much less please.

In a post-feminist society, you never know exactly what you should be doing. Women are bloody picky, I know we are. It can be scary, too, when women freak out about what appear to be benign issues. And men who do their best to be respectful, female-positive humans, I salute you, I do.

But please, please just fuck me already. Honestly, I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I like that you want to take things slow. I can totally get behind the idea of emotional connection, but dearjesusinheaven, FUCK ME.

We’ve done dinner and drinks. We’ve gone dancing. We’ve cuddled and watched a movie. I’m wearing a low cut shirt and you’ve been staring at my breasts all night.

Goodgodalmighty, get to it and fuck me.

When we get hot and heavy, please take charge. Please, please fuck me. Trust me, I’m not going to just lie still – I’ll get involved. But don’t make me force your hand into my panties. That makes me feel like a rapist.

We’ve been kissing for a half hour and your hand keeps grazing my ass. That’s nice, but it’s time to move forward. Get on top of me. Don’t make me get on top right out of the gate and start bobbing up and down on your cock like I’m practicing some crazy new aerobic yoga because YOU won’t go down on me. Roll on top and start dry humping like a good boy should.