As all of you know, women need the existence of pure monogamous love coupled with scented candles to become aroused. Our g-spots and clits might as well not exist without words like “girlfriend” “relationship” “connection” and “forever” We’re not animals like you men who—okay…not that’s true. We are. We’re animals too, and sometimes we just need a warm body to finish off. And not only that, but occasionally…we finish first.

Yes, that’s right. Sometimes women can be two pump chumps. It’s true. Someone even wrote me on the subject seeking advice on how to last longer. (Thanks Jillian Hartley from Platteville, Wisconsin!*)

“Mindy, you lying, blasphemous whore. All women, all of the time, take forever!”

No, sorry. Not true. Maybe its just that your girlfriend’s estrogen makes her a considerate, sensitive being who, after finishing first, keeps her game face on when all she really wants to do is pass out/eat leftover nachos in the fridge.

So my advice for women with this problem: just think about what men think about to keep themselves from finishing. I’m positive that will work.

“Okay, Baseball…Baseball…Baseball…. Ball….Balls…Tight pants. … Man-sweat. Big bat…Hard bat… Hard. Balls. Sweat. Tight pants. Batting cage. Me in cage. Me pressed up against cage. Me. Cage. Hard. Bat. Me. Cage. Hard. Ball. Me. Cage. Bat. Ball. Tight pants. And….done. Dammit!”

“Okay, Grandma naked. Grandma naked…cooking. Grandma naked cooking… her homemade chicken noodle soup. Me eating Grandma’s homemade chicken noodle soup. Me cooking homemade chicken noodle soup. Me naked cooking homemade chicken noodle soup. Me. Naked. Food. Me. Food. Naked. Food. And…done. Dammit!”

“Okay, multiplication tables. 8 × 4= 32. 8 × 5=40. 8 × 6=48 8 × 7=56. 8 × 8=64. 64..6…sex. 6…60…60 + 9=69. 69. 69. 69. And….done. Dammit!”

“Okay, old high school teacher. Which teacher should I think of? High school teacher…Which high school teacher? High school teacher… I’m the teacher. Yeah, I’m the teacher. He‘s my student. “Hello Miss Raf, you wanted to see me after class?” Bodies up against blackboard. Chalk in hair. Hard ruler. Slap. Ass. And…done. Dammit!”

Okay, maybe not.

* Hi Jill! See, told you I’d change your name! : )