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Orgasms for Two

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by Betty Dodson


  What I used to call “sex roles” has now become “gender roles.” Both terms describe the social activities we are expected to perform as women and men. For the most part, these roles are taken for granted, so they’re seldom noticed unless someone crosses over into the opposite role. My friend Veronica Vera, who wrote the book Miss Vera’s Finishing School for Boys Who Want to Be Girls, has one of the best explanations of the differences between society’s stringent boundaries for sex roles and the term “gender” that I’ve come across. Veronica said that in the recent past, the prevalent thinking was a person’s sex organ and sexual identity was one and the same. The idea that a person could change his or her sexual identity was unheard of until 1952, when George Jorgensen underwent surgery and became Christine.

  About the same time, Dr. John Money borrowed the term “gender” from its original use in English and coined the terms “gender roles” and “gender identity” to use for his work at Johns Hopkins, the first American hospital to perform sex change surgery. He became a gender god, turning baby boys with teeny penises into girls and surgically removing big clitorises on baby girls. Along with a thriving community of transvestites (cross-dressers) and transsexuals (people who’ve had sex change operations), we have a politically active group of intersexuals (people with ambiguous genitals) who want to stay the way they are born.

  It’s no surprise that not all men and women are content to be limited by what society calls “normal” masculine or feminine behavior determined by our genitalia. Any person who does not conform to these socially constructed roles is now said to be suffering from “gender dysphoria.” At Miss Vera’s Finishing School, gender dysphoria becomes “gender euphoria.” A man who identifies as male in everyday life gets to take a vacation from masculinity to explore his feminine side, allowing him to become more of a whole person. Many cross-dressers are heterosexual, while others are gay or bisexual. The same is true for women who want to dress as men.

  When I broke away from the traditional female role in the mid-seventies, I spent a period of time with a shaved head and wearing army fatigues and boots. Passing as a little guy was an incredible experience in terms of how differently people behaved toward me. I was waited on faster in restaurants, treated more seriously in general, given more physical space in public, and men no longer hit on me or did the usual wolf whistling. Once I got cruised by a gay man, but even then, he was more direct and honest than the usual heterosexual man hungrily ogling a chick.

  The androgyny that I so loved in the seventies is making a comeback. I’ve been told that some college students are using the terms “heteroflexible” and “homoflexible.” A group of young women who are going to school at NYU told me they were LUGs—lesbians until graduation. I see all of this as very positive. Blurring the differences between the sexes will provide more equal opportunities in other areas. We will all have more social and sexual freedom once we become gender fluid.

  The truth is we are all androgynous, with both masculine and feminine traits, including genes, cells, chromosomes, and hormones. In the womb, men’s sex organs develop from the female sex organs. We can play many roles and enjoy a much broader range of erotic delights beyond the two dimensional “Me Tarzan, you Jane” with what is considered “normal” heterosexual penis/vagina intercourse. The different sex roles women and men play are not “natural,” but socially constructed.

  My first conscious feminist sex role was choosing to be a bachelor, as I claimed the same sexual freedom single men had always enjoyed. Other feminists rejected my idea of sexual liberation and accused me of being “male identified.” As a sexual libertarian, I ignored the matriarchal feminists. Once I realized I could design my sex life with the same creative process I used to paint a picture, many sex roles followed. When asked my sexual preference, I’d often answer, “I’m a work in progress.”

  After menopause, I wanted to try something new and different sexually. A friend of mine belonged to an SM group of lesbian and bisexual women who viewed sex as a conscious exchange of power between two or more adults. Intrigued, I joined the group. We dressed for sex, played with dominance and submission, used erotic bondage, and comingled intense sensations with pleasure. What a revelation for an idealist like myself, who was still struggling with the belief that there could be love between equals.

  In most gay or straight relationships, one partner is dominant and the other subordinate. I just couldn’t see it. Even when couples switch back and forth, the power structure of top and bottom remains to a degree. Actually, it’s quite practical. When two people are both bottoms, nothing much happens sexually because no one makes the first move. If they are both tops, partner sex can become similar to a wrestling match to see who gets pinned first and who has to say “uncle” before they can get around to having orgasms.

  Once a couple consciously chooses to play different roles, it’s very liberating as well as a lot of fun. Eric and I have been sharing a variety of roles since we’ve been living together. When it comes to the different roles based on the nuclear family, we take turns doing them all. He’s a wonderful mother figure, making sure I take care of myself. Every so often he’s my daddy. Eric is an only child, while I grew up with three brothers. Sometimes he’s my son, my little brother, or my older brother. I am the little sister he never had, his mommy, and also his grandmother.

  We agree that I’m the boss when it comes to running the business, but we also agree that this role gets mixed up with “mother” when I’m telling him what to do. So there is still a power struggle going on when we are working together. I understand that his resentments stem from being raised by an authoritarian mom the same as I was. The thankless role of being a mother giving children orders is universal. My style of leadership is often similar to that of a domineering mother who is critical. I’m working on becoming a wise grandmother who praises her grandchild instead of criticizing him constantly. Since I don’t bake cookies, I make it a point to reward Eric by taking him out to his favorite restaurant once a week.

  We take turns being teacher and student. Eric came to me with many sexual skills, and I had a wealth of experience. This combination has enabled us to discover a lot about partner sex together. We constantly experiment with positions and try out different angles for penetration and clitoral stimulation. Since he has so much testosterone and youthful energy, he usually initiates sex and I often bottom for him. I have more social skills and he’s learning about interacting with other people from me.

  As roommates, we have agreed on how we share the work around the apartment without the traditional division of labor. He’s better in the kitchen than I am, but I have the responsibility of seeing to it that the next batch of distilled water is steamed for drinking because he kept forgetting. He thinks I have OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder) with my need to have everything in its place, while I’m convinced he’s got IFD (“I forgot” disorder) when he doesn’t remember to put things back.

  Our intergenerational relationship allows us to be very lighthearted and playful. Hands down, our favorite fantasy role-playing is Owner and Puppy. It’s a whimsical game that amuses and endears us to each other. When he’s my adorable puppy, I am his doting mistress dishing out pure unconditional love and affection. Although I know some people abuse animals, most dog and cat owners know the boundless love that exists between them and their pet. Just as a puppy or kitten opens a normally guarded heart to emotions of tenderness, Eric opens mine when he’s my little doggie. For me, the sweetness of unconditional love and the heat of sexual desire is an extraordinary combination that I never experienced before.

  The psychosexual dynamics of intergenerational sex has rarely been explored with the woman being the older one who has the power. A large part of our compatibility is based upon the difference in our age, clarity about the exchange of power, and turning the imbalance of power into a delightful game. The challenge I face is similar to that of a husband who earns more money than his wife—not to abuse my power. His
challenge is not to manipulate me by being so cute that I always give him his way. Meanwhile, we continue to enjoy playing our Puppy and Owner game privately or with a few close friends. When we are out socially, he is my handsome young assistant.

  One night Eric had an attack of IFD and forgot to call and say he’d be home in the morning. He was playing cards with the boys and when it got late he decided to sleep over. We had an agreement that he would always call if he stayed out all night. Worried sick until he showed up, I was furious and wanted nothing more to do with him. I told him he had to move out and refused to talk to him the entire day.

  That evening, I was sitting in bed watching television when I heard a soft bark. There he was, naked on all fours with a rose in his puppy mouth looking at me with mournful puppy eyes around the corner of the door to my room. Once again my angry heart melted into unconditional love. Overcome with instant forgiveness, I patted the bed for him to jump in. He curled up beside me and laid his head in my lap. As I petted his dark poodle curls, my anger dissolved. In the past I always had trouble forgiving the men in my life, but I can easily forgive my puppy.

  There is no doubt in my mind that all enjoyable partnerships are based on forgiveness, compromise, and acceptance. Psychologists Andrew Christensen and Neil S. Jacobson wrote the book Reconcilable Differences, which made a lot of sense. Their approach is that instead of trying to force each other to change, which is what I always did in the past, partners need to begin accepting each other’s differences and appreciating their individual personalities and behaviors. The authors of acceptance therapy pointed out that when people feel pressure to change, they tend to become defensive and withdraw or they become rebellious. When they feel accepted and understood, they are more likely to change willingly. Acceptance and compassion brings couples closer together.

  Here is a perfect example: At first I disliked Eric’s habit of leaving the toilet seat up after he peed. For weeks I tried different approaches to get him to put the lid down because it looked more aesthetic. My beginning tactic was to charge him a dollar every time he left the seat up, but that meant I had to keep track by writing it down each time. Eventually that became a drag. My next tactic was to stand in the bathroom and wail like a siren until he came in, clamped his hand over my mouth, and put the lid down. That was fun for a while, but then it, too, got boring. Finally one day I realized that putting the lid down myself was a small price to pay for all the pleasure we shared. After I told Eric the toilet seat no longer mattered, he remembered to put it down more frequently.

  One of the biggest power struggles between couples is based upon a desire to possess the one we love. When I was in the traditional female role, monogamy was a given once we had sex and being jealous was natural. Jealousy either reduced me to a sniveling mass of tears or it made me angry and competitive, and I’d think “Okay, two can play this game.” The minute I’d see my boyfriend looking at another woman, I’d flirt with every man who crossed our path. But revenge never made me feel better; in fact, I’d end up feeling so mean-spirited that I didn’t like myself.

  These ongoing suspicious fears that my boyfriend might be sexually attracted to another woman kept me in a state of mental uneasiness as I vigilantly watched his every move when we were socializing. Jealousy caused many violent lovers quarrels with screaming matches, accusations, threats, and tears as I tried to control each lover.

  My struggle to learn how to love someone without demanding monogamy dates back to the sixties, when Grant and I first began to explore sex together. Once I was presented with the choice of remaining possessive and having sex with one man at a time or getting beyond jealousy to enjoy sex with multiple partners, I wisely chose sexual abundance over the illusion of security that monogamy is supposed to provide.

  The first year I did battle with my jealous feelings was an internal war that I eventually won. The fruits of my emotional struggle were claiming my sexual power and personal identity. I became a whole person instead of half of a couple. Unfortunately, society has little use for a sexually and financially independent woman. We threaten the status quo.

  By the time I turned forty, loving another person meant honoring his or her freedom—it wasn’t about taking a hostage who had to be guarded day and night to make sure he or she remained my private sexual property. Instead, my lovers and I treated each other more like friends who respected one other’s personal integrity and independence. While this might sound as if I’m from another planet, think a moment.

  People who love and explore sex are no different from food connoisseurs, dedicated scientists, or other people who devote time to pursuing a particular interest. When I was an artist working long hours painting, I was admired and rewarded. Once I became interested in spending my time pursuing sex, I was labeled “nymphomaniac” or, more recently, “sex addict.”

  Here comes the part that proves I’m from Earth. After all those years dedicated to honoring people’s sexual independence, I was shocked to be thrown back into the raw emotions of jealousy at the beginning of my relationship with Eric. Because of our age difference, I was convinced he’d eventually find a pretty young thing and run off. The thought of losing my recent source of sexual happiness made me so anxious I wanted to get it over with quickly. One moment I was pushing him into the arms of another women only to reel him back in the next. Finally my intelligence kicked in and overpowered my emotions. I stopped trying to control him. Taking away his freedom to choose was a form of abuse, not love.

  This time around, my skirmishes with jealousy were far more challenging for several reasons. In the past, my lovers and I had our own apartments, giving us more freedom to live separate lives. Living under the same roof with another person creates a series of comfortable patterns that lead to many more dependencies. Another thing was my age. It was much easier to practice nonmonogamy when I was a handsome forty-year-old woman with many years ahead of me. As a senior, I am looking at the end of my life while Eric is at the beginning of his.

  My saving grace is the knowledge that the best way for any intergenerational partnership to thrive is for the older person not to possess the younger one sexually. I’ve had a phenomenal sex life during a time when everything was safe and available. Eric is just starting out on his sexual journey, and it’s my firm belief that experience is essential in mastering any art form, including sex. I want him to enjoy a varied sex life with women of all ages. This is not always easy, but then neither is the democratic process. Civil liberties include a person’s right to choose how they practice sex.

  For me, jealousy is first felt as anger, then as a cooling down to hurt, and finally, at the bottom, as insecurity and fear of abandonment that probably go back to Daddy. This is maddening because I know the idea of security is one big fat illusion. My recent bouts with jealousy made it clear that I needed to relax the emotional muscle that goes into a spasm, clamping down with negative feelings based upon insecurity. Instead of treating every feeling as a fact that dictates my reality, as an older, wise woman I could choose how I respond.

  The moment jealousy creeps into my awareness, I acknowledge the feeling, but I do not allow it to dictate my actions or infringe upon my decision-making process. Feeling guilty or jealous is like a bad habit or an addictive drug. The same as I did when I was coming off any drug, I tell myself I choose to stop. It’s similar to withdrawing from cigarettes. Whenever the desire to smoke enters my mind, I say, “I am nicotine free.” Then I go over my list of all the reasons why I no longer smoke. The measure of any commitment is the struggle between yes and no and when to choose one over the other.

  My antijealousy list goes something like this: Jealousy is a destructive emotion. I have a right to choose sexual abundance over possessiveness. Jealousy only hurts me as well as the person I claim to love. Demanding monogamy is the source of jealousy. Sexual possessiveness is not a cure-all for the fear of loss. Many lose partners through accidental death. Jealousy causes people to harm or even kill one another in the na
me of love. The idea of having sex with only one person for an entire lifetime is ludicrous for people who see the practice of sex as an art form.

  Very few couples will ever consider abandoning monogamy and dealing with the emotional chaos that results from feelings of jealousy. However, I’d like to remind women that monogamy was invented to ensure a man’s paternity by sexually controlling our behavior. While all men might agree to be faithful, very few intend to do so or actually succeed. So-called monogamous husbands spend billions of dollars on all forms of sexual entertainment, including mistresses, prostitutes, massage parlors, topless bars, and lap dances. Society meanwhile continues to use wives as the unpaid moral police force responsible for enforcing sexual fidelity.

  A friend of mine had been faithful for sixteen years. Just after he turned forty, his horniness spilled over into a one-night stand at a conference. When his wife found a woman’s business card in his suit, she confronted him, and because he was consumed with guilt, he confessed. For the next two years his wife punished him by withholding sex and constantly reminding him she could never trust him again. Sound familiar? We tend to forget that as women we can dish out our own brand of sexual abuse. Although we claim our anger is a normal response to “sexual betrayal,” we are really wallowing in our righteous indignation. We see other women doing it all the time in movies and television. We’ve been brainwashed to believe jealousy is a sign of “true love.”

  One of the reasons men don’t speak out openly against monogamy is because many want to maintain the current sexual double standard. While these husbands feel they are entitled to fuck around, they’d never accept their wives’ claiming the same freedom. After one monogamous wife of thirty years discovered her husband had been cheating off and on during their marriage, she decided what was good for the goose was good for the gander. Suzanne asked me to coach her through her first extramarital affair. Although she was in her early fifties, she was more like a teenager having sex for the first time. Her only sexual partner had been her husband.

 

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