"If I say to him, 'I need you to f*ck me like a thug from the projects,' and he doesn’t understand, then we can’t be together. When we have sex, I cum at least four times.”

All of the lesbians stopped and looked at the six-foot-tall, gorgeous black Jamaican man and gasped.

Beyond the political incorrectness and the shock, it was kind of revolutionary: a gay Jamaican man talking about how he wants it.

I was too tipsy to probe more into the situation, so I just kind of sat there thinking...

Four times, every time. My goodness!

How in the hell do thugs in the projects f*ck?

This is what kept running through my head. A couple of days later, and fully recovered from the tequila, I still couldn’t shake that idea.

He’s been with his boy for over four years now. He says that they have a thriving and wonderful sex life. He also says that he has at least four orgasms each time he has sex. Now, I’m not saying that I want to have four orgasms every go of it. I’m pretty sure that that would render me incapable of doing much else.

“Gloria, have you taken out the trash?”

“No, I’ve just had my fourth orgasm today. Let it rot. Let the world rot.”

“Gloria, this is your job. The school said that you didn’t show and your students have been wrapping the security guards in toilet paper.”

“And? Leave me alone. I’ve just had my fourth orgasm. I can’t be bothered. Tell the kids to teach themselves.”

It’s just not a good idea for me to be doing that all of the time.

But back to the shiny and beautiful Jamaican boy, “ If I can’t say to him 'I need you to f*ck me like a thug from the projects,' and he doesn’t understand, then we can’t be together.”

Could I, a lesbian who hasn’t been f*cked in the projects, have anything that I could take away from this conversation? While walking past the projects on my way to work, it came to me.

It’s not about the projects, Glo. It’s not about the projects! Ding, ding, ding! It’s about the communication, silly. That’s the gem. He’s able to tell his partner what he wants. His partner gives him what he wants. He’s being satisfied. That’s a feat, eh?

It seems like with lesbians, at least the ones that I soiree with, we don’t always tell our partners what it is that we want. We often resign ourselves to LBD, or we keep on having mediocre sex. Or we just keep doing the same damn thing. Why don’t we just turn to our girl and say, “I need you to f*ck me like a thug from the projects.” Could it be our, or my, residual Catholic Good Girl thing that is sometimes reluctant to say the things that I really want? Could it be that we think that the things that we want may be way too far out there? Could it be that we are just scared to try new things? It could just be that we don’t want anyone to f*ck us like a thug from the projects. I’m not sure that’s what I want either. I’ll leave the projectile thuggery to the beautiful Jamaican man...

But could you or would you say:

I want you to f*ck me like a housewife from the suburbs!?!

I want you to lay me like a librarian unleashed in a room full of fiction!?!


I want you to do me like a sorority girl after one too many drinks!?!

That’s my project for sure!