Fake orgasms...why the hell would I do that?
I tippity-tapped the Paramour, who happened to be snoozing gently beside me.
'What? What? What's going on?' He said. A man of instant lightening like reflexes.
'Do you think women should fake orgasms?" I demanded, brandishing the paper at him.
He rubbed his eyes and groaned. 'What?'
'Orgasms! Do you think women should fake them just to make men feel happy?'
'Why...what are you talking about?'
'Fay Weldon, that's what!' I started to read aloud. 'She says, "If you are happy and generous-minded, you will fake it and then leap out of bed and pour him champagne, telling him, “You are so clever” or however you express enthusiasm,’ she says. ‘Faking is kind to male partners … Otherwise they too may become anxious and so less able to perform. Do yourself and him a favour, sister: fake it." '
The paramour blinked at me sleepily.
'Sister my arse. Listen to this! "‘Eighty per cent of women only sometimes - or never - experience orgasm. Facts are facts and there we are. Deal with it,’ she writes in What Makes Women Happy?, to be published this month by Fourth Estate." Who, who the hell did she ask? She didn't as me! I bet she didn't ask anyone I know, I bet she didn't ask anyone, what is she basing this 'fact' on? Hum? Hum? That's what I'd like to know.'
'Who cares what she-'
'This kind of thinking gets on my wick, it belittles everyone, men and women alike' I snarked, shaking the paper furiously, 'imagine, must we tippy-toe around everything? What a stupid woman that Fay Weldon is, as if any man just wants a performance based of sympathy and pity. And then when they don't measure up we're to pat them on the head like a labrador, 'Nice try here's a bone, sorry you couldn't get one." Hah! Nonsense, what a stupid person she has become.' I glanced at him, 'You don't do you, want me to fake it, do you? You know pretend now and then? Becasue I dont' really see the point in even doing it if-'
'You know what I would like you to pretend?' He said, closing his eyes.
'Pretend I'm asleep and I have to get up early for work. I want you to fake it really well, convince me.'
I flung the paper down as though scalded and leaped out of bed. I scurried off to the sitting room and snatched down my battered copy of Down Among the Women. Oh Wanda, oh Scarlett, your creater has let you down terribly, I sniffed silently, and, clutching it against my chest, I settled onto the cord sofa- the bigger of the cats and Puddy delighted- and presently I began to read.