Picture this: I’m lying naked in bed next to a gorgeous, chiseled Australian man in his early thirties. We’ve just spent the last hour having sex. We hungrily made out, we tentatively touched, we let our mouths run down each other’s bodies. And then we fucked hard and he came. Not once, not twice, but three. beautiful. times.
If coming is someone’s goal, then I’m happy when they do it multiple times. His three climaxes were less a testament to my skills and more about his fortunate physiology. I’ve had lots of sex with many men spanning a range of ages and I’d say getting hard and coming three times in an hour is a fairly short refractory period or a 31-year-old penis.
He may have been spent, but I was still riled up and ready to go. I slipped my hand down to see if I could coax up another hard-on and jokingly (yet hopefully) enquired: “Think you could go again?” We both laughed, knowing that he’d already been pushed to his limits. I respectfully – if inwardly begrudgingly – backed off.
Sex was over. Bring on the pillow talk.
Impressed and surprised by his own multiple erections and orgasms, he asked me:
“What’s the most times you’ve had sex in a night?”
Oh dear… what a loaded, problematic, and utterly pointless question! Pause the scene for a second.
Let’s consider his motives
He is obviously looking to compare his number to mine. This could be about sniffing out my level of sexual experience. It could be about assessing how long I can go for. But more likely than not, this is about how he stacks up to other men.
What are we measuring?
When people compare how hard, how big, how many orgasms, how many times (etc.) it betrays a highly problematic attitude about what makes for good sex.
It’s not a competition. You don’t win a medal for the highest score. You don’t go to the World Series for the most home runs. And even if it existed, no one cares about your entry in the Guinness Book, trust me.
What exactly does it mean if you hold the title for most times in a night? If you come ten times a session? If you’re someone’s third sexual partner or their fifty third? Does this baseless comparison serve as some kind of validation? Are you looking to boost your ego by convincing yourself that you are sexually superior to others? Does this make you more of a man?
All this is without even defining what constitutes “sex” and how to “count” the number of “times” you’ve had it in a night.
Resume scene. Remember, he’s just asked: What’s the most times you’ve had sex in a night?
Upon hearing his question, I cast my mind back and scan through my “holodex”, trying to isolate a noteworthy romp. Got it! In my second year of university, I had a particularly energetic one-time partner with whom I spent a sleepless night fucking fourteen times. That was a fun night – and a sore day after.
The proud 3-times-in-1-hour man lying next to me was aghast: “Fourteen times?!”
Shit, I thought. I’ve wounded his ego.
Still incredulous, he continued, “He came fourteen times?!”
Oh… Hrm… Not exactly.
“Well, he didn’t come fourteen times,” I confirmed.
My post coital pillow talk partner scoffed at my response and tried to undermine the credibility of my claim. Apparently it doesn’t count if the guy doesn’t have a happy ending.
Give me a fucking break.
According to him, not only is sex defined as a man’s penis inside a woman’s vagina, but it only counts as sex if the man comes?!?
Hold on just a second folks.
I cast my mind back to the night in question. Fondly, I recalled that night back in university during which I (blissfully) had a gorgeous cock inside of me during fourteen good, quality, fun, sexy-as-hell sessions. We fucked for hours. On and off and on again. I didn’t get a wink of sleep. For days afterward, I felt it in the depths of my deliciously aching vagina. I’m damn well going to count that as having sex fourteen times!
I held in my rage so that I could string together an articulate and focused rebuttal. I replied: “My vagina doesn’t care if his penis ejaculated. It was having sex fourteen times for me.”
My bedmate had no response.
How to measure “sex”
Let’s turn the tables. Imagine, for one moment, that we measured sex in women’s climaxes versus men’s. (I’m talking strictly hetero situations here.) Imagine if sex wasn’t sex unless a woman came.
I think the universe just imploded.
If this were the case, despite my years of sex with dozens of partners, I’d practically be a virgin.
Sex is about playfulness, exploration, intimacy, and feel-good friction between erogenous parts. And yes, it often involves getting hard, wet, and coming. But given the differences between male and female anatomy, hardness, wetness, and orgasms are not the be-all and end-all to sexual satisfaction. Heterosexual men everywhere would benefit from this bit of intel.
So look, buddy. Even though you got hard enough to fuck and ejaculate three times in an hour, I actually found the sex pretty boring. Those three times were mediocre at best. And if you had gotten hard and ejaculated fourteen times, the only thing you would have achieved is to expose me to eleven additional mediocre fucks.