Advice from three of our guy friends. This week they answer the following: “What are guys’ biggest insecurities during sex?“
Straight Committed Guy (Johnny): I think many guys are afraid of their own inexperience early on in their sex lives, or later on too if they donâ€™t get laid as much as theyâ€™d like. This insecurity is exponentially magnified if the manâ€™s lady partner is more experienced than he is, which can trigger the following:
- Comparison-Based Anxiety â€“ â€śHow can I possibly stack up against a slew of guys who had the game to get my girl in bed quicker than I could?â€ť
- Irrational Resentment â€“ â€śWhy couldnâ€™t she anticipate that I, Mr. Special-and-Different-from-the-Rest, would come along and be jealous of her numerous partners?â€ť
- Madonna/Whore Complex â€“ â€śIâ€™M the man, Iâ€™M supposed to be the hornier and more promiscuous one! YOUâ€™RE supposed to be a prim, chaste little lady! What the hell!?â€ť
- And of course, The Size Issue (sorry to bring this up AGAIN) â€“ â€śIs my dick big enough? Bigger than her last partners? What if itâ€™s the smallest sheâ€™s ever seen!?â€ť
In my opinion, these fears based on lack of experience (which at their most powerful can induce impotence) come from the widely held misconception that women see sex as dirty and gross, and that we guys have to be extra careful when broaching the subject, lest we be slapped with some kind of lawsuit. Thanks a lot for kicking THAT off, Clarence Thomas.
Straight Single Guy (Chris): You might guess it’s penis size, but I think you’d be wrong. I can’t speak for everyone, but it seems to me that guys are much more preoccupied with stamina than size. Based on jokes I’ve heard women telling each other, it may also be a legitimate concern. I have no idea how long “long enough” is (duration, not size), but I would guess that longer is always better.
Gay Single Guy (Angelo Nikolopoulos): In junior high, I had what pubescent boys commonly refer to as bitch tits. It goes without saying that when summer reared its cheerful face into my cruel childhood, I was that unfortunate-looking child wading in the swimming pool with an oversized t-shirt on. Apart from the inherent difficulties in treading water in an oversized Billabong shirt, what tormented me more than bathing fully clothedâ€”in stark contrast to my peersâ€™ taut and sparklingly bare bodiesâ€”was finding a way to conspicuously dive in without causing alarm. Finding an exit strategy from the pool was similarly fraught with anxiety, as my sopping t-shirt had the unflattering effect of sticking to all my unsightly wobbly parts. However, once I managed to cannonball in, I was as happy and carefree as an otter.
This is a strange metaphor, I admit, in response to what a guyâ€™s biggest sexual insecurities might be, but Iâ€™m willing to conclude that a straight man is as blissfully engrossed during sex as I was stupidly happy as a chubby thirteen year old floating about in the neighborhood community pool. Though the moments preceding and succeeding sex might be laden with anxiety (i.e., insecurities about penis size, female orgasm), Iâ€™d venture to guess that when a manâ€™s hip-deep into a woman, itâ€™s all tulips and sunshine and such (bitch tits or not).