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I can see through you, and I don’t like what I see.
You email me under the guise of caring. Of wanting your wife to experience something new in the bedroom. You love her, your wife — you make sure to state that outright. You tell me her age, and yours, for some inexplicable reason. She’s gorgeous, and you’ve been married for many years. You’ve tried to convince her to try sex toys before, but there’s just one nagging detail: she’s not interested.
You’re a modern, enlightened man. That’s why you read sex toy blogs, and research squirting techniques, and email bloggers for advice. Sometimes you not-so-slyly brag about your “amazing” sex life, estimating that your wife has an orgasm 97% of the time. She’s content, obviously. It’s just you have ideas for making sex better. There’s this dildo all the bloggers are raving about, and surely your wife must experience it too. Never mind if it makes sense with her body or her desires, never mind if you know what any of those desires even are.
You’ve come to me for reassurance. Because I am a sex toy fiend you assume I’ll be on your side, ready to leap to your defense and proclaim the transformative power of sex toys. You expect me to coddle you, to nod in virtual agreement and eagerly dish out advice on how best to frame the conversation with your wife.
Men. It is not about framing.
I read through your email, my eyes catching on the part where you refer to your partner as “the wife,” wincing when you divulge how hot it would be to use toys on her, frowning as you describe the reasons she is wary. Her objections to sex toys are multiple, layered, painfully unexplored — and judging from your email, you’re not willing to do much work to explore them. You’d rather blast on with your own plan. You’re confident she’s missing out, and you’ve cast yourself as savior.