Big Ugly Man Doll

It’s Friday, and that means answer time! For those of you who have commented with questions from previous ManFAQs, thank you. I’m adding yours to the list of questions women have asked about men over the years, and I will answer them all in turn – to continue to demystify the more malodorous gender for those of the gentler.  Actual questions, posed by real women, and answered by a REAL man. What could go wrong?

Question:  The studs in the romance books provide their lovers with a running commentary.  Is one allowed to or supposed to talk during Hey Hey?  Should a girl expect it?

Answer:   The short answer is that one could hope both your mouths would be otherwise occupied.   The long answer, and it is a very long answer (he said with a wink), is that we all know that sex is like baseball, and that ninety percent of Hey Hey is half mental (as are fifty percent of your partners, but that’s a different post).  Sometimes we all need a few words of encouragement, or even a stern talking to.

A Useful Venn Diagram

The trouble is in the execution of this talking.  The difference between the number of romance writers and the number of romance writers who have had sex with other people is staggering.  Just because they can write about some seriously kinky Hey Hey does not mean they’ve ever actually had such Hey Hey, nor that they could if cornered at a cocktail party.  The Marquis de Sade is noted and remembered for his writing – did he really DO all those things?  Not so sure.

Also remember that the stud in the romance books has a big advantage over your partner.  Not being real, he can enjoy the sight of your heaving bosom and tell you all about what he’s thinking while not having any of the performance anxiety usually connected to maintaining his throbbing member.   Remember, he’s in a book.

Your partner, on the other hand, is not in a book.  As far as he’s concerned, he’s in a dream.  He’s probably not thinking about saying much (OK, he’s probably not thinking much), since he used up his store of words for the day while talking you out of your clothes.   Most men only really need to say about 6000 words a day, and he’s pretty much tapped out by now – if you’re getting more than “Mmmmmmmmm,” it’s a bonus.  Also, he’s desperately scared of saying the wrong thing – he invested a lot of time and energy getting to this part of the day, and he REALLY doesn’t want to screw it up and accidentally make you mad by opening his mouth other than to breathe – and possibly not even for that.  Are his eyes bugging out a little?  They are, aren’t they?  He’s not going to open his mouth except to put something interesting in there.

Also, remember that he doesn’t expect to have to tell you what his throbbing member is doing, or where it is.  He’s *really* hoping you can feel it, unless you’re still wearing that hot latex outfit or you’ve been anesthetized – locally, since if you’re under general anesthesia (A) he’s talking to himself and (B) that’s no time for Hey Hey, everything they say about dead girls notwithstanding.  If you have to ask “So, where is it now?” he’s probably going to collapse. 

You, on the other hand, are welcome to cheer him on; provide direction, guidance, or instructions; keep the beat; whatever you like.  If you’re counting on him to recognize how you’re doing by watching your eyebrows, forget it – we can’t take hints well under normal circumstances, much less now.   Tell him what you like and he’ll do it.  Don’t worry that he’s not doing the same – he’s not going to tell you what he likes, because anything you’re doing is great, trust me.  If you think you’re not doing whatever it is you’re doing fast enough, remember that he’s not in a hurry to stop doing this. 

The only other thing to keep in mind is that if you make enough noise, you risk having the neighbors or kids check out the commotion and find you in Hey Hey Flagrante.  Lock the door.  A friend of mine in college, who lived in Stalnaker Hall, was known as the Stalnaker Screamer – and not because she’d seen a mouse, if you know what I mean. 

So, are you allowed to talk?  All you like!  Scream like your mom can’t hear you.  Are you supposed to talk?  If it makes you feel good, if it’s good for you – you bet.  Should he be talking?  Usually your call, but remember that most of the intercourse discourse with which he’s familiar he learned from watching porn; if you want him to use language you don’t usually hear from him, I assure you he knows it – he just doesn’t know what else he should say.  He’s not likely to start comparing Thee to a Summer’s Day. 

Or, maybe he is:

Shall I compare thee unh, yeah, to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely oh god you're beautiful and more uhn temperate.
Rough yeah, harder, winds do shake the darling buds of your breasts,
And summer's lease hath yeah oh yeah like that all too short a date.
Sometime too god you're hot too the eye of heaven shines, ah,
And often is his gold, oh yeah baby complexion dimmed;
And every fair from f-ooh god, sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed, yeah, you know I love that;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade, no, yeah, don't stop
Nor lose possession of that fair thou oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ow'st,
Nor shall death brag about how he banged you,
When in eternal lines to Time thou oh god yes, now, yeah, don't stop, thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, yeah, almost there,
So long lives this, oh god oh god oh god and this oh yeeees, gives life to thee.

Now you know. Please, feel free to comment, and comment, and comment some more.  Moaning is OK too.  Also, forward any questions you’d like answered to BUMD – at – biguglymandoll.com!

Tags: Children // 3 Comments »