Men and sex

Sometimes comes a day when I seriously question why I love men so much. And I come up empty handed. Today's been one such day. Why in my life, have I even ever considered pairing up with a man when I am so self sufficient? I make my own living, own my own home, I can rewire an electric plug, I can drive and change flat tyres, a screwdriver doesn't scare me. Nor does a hammer, men please take note, you might want to run. So what is it in me that has made me think that having a man is a hell of a good idea? Truth be told, I was brought up in a world without Internet, when batteries were a novelty... yes you know where I'm getting at, and when sex toys were something you tried to push past the nothing to declare, among your dirty socks and underwear and pray you wouldn't be stopped. Because if you did get stopped, you were going to have to pay for it by being humiliated by a couple of men dressed up as Customs Officials who would think it very funny that a girl was tending to her own devices with a battery operated device. Still, Duracell was also a novelty, so there was the frustrating thing of nearing the big Oh Yes and cumming so close and zilch, the damn device would have used up all the battery energy. We could have turned to something else I suppose, but somehow my five a day were always served on a plate, and I took them in with a fork. But it's not supposed to be all about down there. A woman can share a lot of other thing with a man, things like feelings, emotions. And man accept that because emotion spells sex, feelings spells sex, a kiss spells sex, a hug spells sex. Even the most intelligent of men only has enough blood flow to control either his mind or his below the belt, not simultaneously. And that should mean that we can throw all our battery operated devices. Alas, not so. Because the men of my era were also primitive, they thought that Colpo Grosso was porn. I remember them at work carrying parcels wrapped up in newspapers which held what they called blue films, with an accent on the blooooooo and me wondering if they had at least washed their hands before trading them. And yet few were the ones who really knew the way around a woman's body. Too few. Fast forward to 2009. Now I really wonder why the hell I still think that coupling is a good idea. Because now we even have access to waterproof devices. We have sperm banks, for those who think that having babies is a good idea. We can look up in the Yellow Pages if we need handymen. So just what is it? Is it an intrinsic need, a want, or a luxury we reward ourselves with when we're PMS-ing? Or maybe, just maybe, we still want the thrill of being chased, the thrill of being wanted, and the irreplaceable macho hands we use as foreplay? Then again, what about the brains? And are we in 2009, so old fashioned that beneath all our independent glory all we want is just to be taken and shagged? Are we really that primitive?