Female Supremacy Articles - Page 16

Screen 19 of 40

This view of heterosexual sex looked far less like a mirror than my woman's view. I realized as I fucked Adam that at some of the most connected-feeling moments of my life, I was having an utterly different experience than the man pushing into me. Regardless of who's initiating, who's on top, or who holds what emotional reins, I realized, surrender is at the center of my sexual experience; invasion at my male partner's.

With the Boss, I was conquering, silent, responsible, the taker. With his legs spread, Adam was agreeable, inviting, ashamed, taken. I felt closer to him that night than any other time, because we changed in front of each other's eyes. Parts of ourselves that had been locked away from it engaged in sex for the first time.

The world looks different since then. I was riding up a steep escalator a few weeks after I took Adam's cherry, idly watching the butts up ahead of me as I usually do -- as a pleasing shape. And suddenly a slide clicked over the round female bottom perched above me: Access. Men aren't just admiring the curve of a butt the way women do; they're negotiating access. It's a hill to be taken.

And men do love access. Clubs, fraternities, committees, old-boy networks -- they've built a world where access is power. They like slit skirts, open-toed shoes, crotchless panties. They like finding a way in. I think the name of the highest-profile condom brand is no accident -- the Trojan Horse was the original tool of access!