Ask Erin

Dear Erin,

All I want from my girlfriend is to look at her after we DO IT. I mean REALLY look at her. But every time I try to sneak a peek, she rolls over and crosses her legs. Am I being weird?

--Boy who Wonders

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Dear Boy Wonder,

No you are not being weird. Men can't get enough of that thing. I don't know why, but there it is. So you're 100 percent normal, but to get to the (ahem) bottom of your situation, we need to take a a couple of steps back.

So, Boy Wonder, are you or are you not delivering a splendorous orgasm unto Batgirl during the proceedings?

Methinks not.

Because if you were, Batgirl would be so full of glorious human sexual fulfillment, the aftermath would have her breathless on her back, not caring one toot if you were examining the secrets of the ol' batcave with a Klieg light. She'd probably even be giggling with that joyous intoxicated satisfaction only a true-life climax can produce. Hell, given enough big O's, she might even leave her cape and mask on, or show you a few inverted yoga poses (keep plenty of towels on hand in the case of that eventuality).

Instructing you on the ins and outs of how to properly maneuver your Batmobile in order to deliver the big O is a bigger tutorial than I can fit into this here blog post, but you might start by studying up in your spare time. Look at some diagrams and get making with the internet. Maybe upgrade to a nice bottle of vino instead of a six of Natty Light on your next date. If she loosens up enough, you might even talk Batgirl into giving you a live tour of her batcave during the opening acts of the evening, if you know what I mean.

Good luck.

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Have a question about sex, housewifery, politics, culture or goat husbandry? Why not ask Erin?

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Dear People without Televisions,

As I sink into my nest of pillows and blankets on the couch every night before Iron Chef, The Office, America's Next Top Model, Community, 30 Rock, etc., I know this vapid fare does not make me a better wife, mother, voter, cook, or sex partner. It only serves to dull my mind as well as my body.

"Hey baby? Grab me another Bud while you're in there."

Thereby I concede: I lose, you win. You are a better person than me, wholly entitled to that smug expression. Your kids are not mentally flattened by the likes of Spongebob and Hannah Montana. Their impressionable young minds are not swirling down the toilets of the Jersey Shore.

Can we be done with this now?

Because if one more television non-owner comes up to me and manages to find a way to inform me of their non-television ownership status within the first 30 seconds of our initial meeting, I'm liable to let loose a serious string of expletives.

It is obnoxious when you say, "Well--heh-heh--having not owned a television for the past 12 years ... " three seconds after I've extended my hand and introduced myself. Did you fail to notice that no one mentioned Satan's box or any of its relevant contents? And no, your jolly self-deprecating tone does not help. At all.

Remember when the first People With Cell Phones felt the need to say, "I'm calling you on my cell," at the beginning of every conversation? That is you, except they have faded, you have not.

Now for the bad news, sugartits. Having a television set is no longer relevant. You can watch mind-sucking slop online 24/7. Courtesy of a high-speed internet connection, the Cartoon Network will gladly deliver unto you Courage the Cowardly Dog starring in "Son of the Chicken from Outer Space" in all of it's glorious mediocrity.

Gee, you're in a tough situation. You either give up involvement in the modern world or try desperately to differentiate yourself within it. Because, whether or not you choose to dip your intellectual ladle into the barrel of online sewage is irrelevant, baby. Your choices are limited.

You could simply banish the evil Internet from your life, thereby joining the ranks of Aunt Gertie and Uncle Fred. Buy a cane while you're at it so you can shake something at the kids while you croak from the screen door, "Hey you kids! Get off the grass!"

Here's my advice: Come over to the dark side, if only for a moment. Click on, log in, drop down.

Behold a darling bevy of 16 and Pregnant mother's-to-be, or the luscious queens of RuPaul's Drag Race. Do what you do best and wax superior when the hellish reality of Hoarders comes spilling from your sleek iMac. Have an innocuous tab at the ready (Salon, HuffPo, or perhaps Epinion's latest commentary on Samsung's DualView digital camera). When the Missus wanders in to see what your chortling over, with one clandestine click, you'll temporarily banish Snookie & Co. until you are alone again with your new little friends.

You have another option. You could revamp your clever unlike bottom feeders like you, I don't have a television speech to sound more like this: "Although I'm completely savvy regarding today's online media, I never, ever use my Cox DOCSIS 3.0 enhanced wireless ultimate high speed connection to watch (ahem) television shows."

Only trouble is, no one will believe you.

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Reconstructing Dan Savage, vol. two

Oh boy.

Sex columnist Dan Savage's Episode 57 podcast, which originally posted November 20, 2007, features a guest expert. Savage and "Science" open the show with a discussion on how to determine whether or not a woman is faking an orgasm. The description tag for the podcast calls it "a useful tutorial on how to scientifically determine whether a woman's orgasm is fake or genuine."


The two Boy Wonders go on to tell their listening audience to check for pupil dilation and sweaty palms and feet at the moment of climax, all of which indicate an innate "fight or flight" response commonly associated with orgasm.

This is your advice, boys? Palms and pupils? You're kidding me, right?

When you're talking the fairer-sex climax, you are obligated to include a mention of orgasmic contractions. Perhaps Savage was being polite and didn't want to trump his guest. Maybe he was having a subtle laugh at Science's expense. But orientation notwithstanding, Savage has mentioned orgasmic contractions before, so it's not as though he doesn't know about them. Whatever the case, neither man brought up the single most definitive characteristic of a real orgasm. And how you can have such a discussion without mentioning the fact that the vagina puts on a regular floor show during the genuine article escapes me.


What really bothers me is that there is a contingent of men that took this sage advice at face value. They're out there prying their lover's eyes open at a crucial moment or blotting their palms with a Kleenex to check for perspiration. Savage and Co., you did a major disservice to all of them as well as their partners. Shame on you! Now let me set things straight.

Gentlemen, the puss is not static during climax. It does fun tricks.

That said, I am not a doctor or statistician, just one woman with copious experience. I realize the orgasmic reaction is as unique as the woman enjoying it. Some vaginae mark climax with a subtle vibration while others exhibit a wildly undulating affair. Mine sings the Star Spangled Banner.

And if you don't believe me and don't have anyone around to demonstrate, there are plenty of NSFW examples available courtesy of the honeys over at Youporn.

This is not a secret. Plenty of people have written about it. But nonetheless, it continues to mystify. So here are a few tips.

I understand that during regular boy/girl coitus, the usual suspect may or may not feel the woman's climax, particularly if it's subtle. The man may wonder how sincere that scream really was. That said, gents, your tongue or fingers will know for sure. Seeing is believing as well.

You know what you have to do.

And for pity's sake, don't be afraid to ask for help or direction. A straight-forward demonstration may be in order as well. Once you are familiar with her unique climactic reactions, you'll never wonder again. And by then, you'll be delivering the goods so regularly, it won't be an issue.

And yeah, if it's a one-night stand and you don't know the woman at all, don't expect to know her orgasm. That advice goes for the ladies out there as well. I hate to be a fuddy-duddy, but long-term relationships produce the best sex for a reason.

To summarize: If she's grunting and moaning and pulling a regular When Harry Met Sally, but her vagina isn't doing anything, you've probably got a goose egg. On the other hand, if all she offers up a tiny "ooh" along with a bead or two of sweat while her puss performs acrobatics, you done good, kid.

And if she's splayed out on the bed with limbs like noodles and a smoky look in her eyes afterwards, that speaks volumes as well. You could call it the wake of pupil dilation, but I like my description better.

Good luck out there.



Confidential to the ladies: Don't fake; teach. Just trust me on this.