Sex When You’re A 30-Something Man Vs. Sex When You’re A 30-Something Woman

Recently I was reminiscing with a buddy of mine about past sexual encounters. Unfortunately, out of our group of friends, I’m known as the one who had many, each with a better story than the one before. These all took place in college and in my twenties (I’m 31 now, so my “reflective” period might be a little premature), but what I’m beginning to realize – and what my friends don’t know – is that I’m far from that guy anymore. Even when I’m reminiscing “solo” it’s not wild or crazy, it’s more “oh yeah, that girl would totally be someone I could see myself in a long term relationship with,” not “oh yeah that girl would totally be someone who gives good…” You get my point.

I know what you’re thinking; obviously, I must be married. Right? Or in a serious and committed relationship. But no, I’m not. Anyone married can excuse him or herself, because I’m talking about the “singles.” All of this sow your oats business is usually labeled on married guys, but what about the forever bachelor who evolves?

The point of this is that I realized something: As I was becoming more of an intense, Frank Ocean-playing, chill-on-the-dirty-talk kind of guy, woman were becoming more of the slap-my-ass, treat-me-like-a-bad-girl, did-she-really-just-say-that type. More plainly: while men are more sexually adventurous and give less of a shit when they are younger, ladies are less sexually adventurous and do give a shit when they are younger, and those roles and predilictions reverse as both sexes mature(late twenties and thirties).

I think I’m on to something. In my younger years and through my twenties, I just went for it. Women were sometimes more reserved, and wouldn’t really let out their wild side until we’d been dating for a while, by which time I’d already moved on to the next girl. But as I got older, by the time ladies were ready to let their guard down and come out to really play, I was ready to let my guard down and really open up.

When sex is meaningless, at least for me and most of the guys I know, you’ll pretty much try anything, because who cares if it’s a deal-breaker. Worst-case scenario: you end up with a funny story. When women have meaningless sex, and remember I’m talking here about college-age and 20-somethings, they are more reserved because to them this is still a very personal thing. Sex to guys is crazy positions, dirty talk, in an elevator, cumming on breasts. While sex to ladies is OMG-I’m-letting-this-guy-inside-me-this-must-be-forever-should-I-even-be-doing-this-am-I-doing-it-right-OMG-what-have-I-done.

Before you freak out, yes, I’m generalizing, I understand there are different strokes for different folks and we all perceive things and experience things differently.

But at some point things change for the bachelor and the bachelorette. And by bachelor I mean me, and by bachelorette I mean you. (Unless that makes you mad or offends you, in which case I don’t know who I mean.) My idea of casual sex has turned into something tame, something I might be more apt to call lovemaking. I didn’t want to undervalue intercourse with meaningless words and acts of quick satisfaction. But ladies have become the complete opposite. By now they are in total control of their sexuality, ready and willing to go after whatever it is that makes them tingle. They want to have crazy stories to tell at brunch the next day, while I just want to cuddle and talk.

If you think about this, it makes total sense. A 25-year-old guy is still immature; he’ll do it for the story, get off, and think nothing of it. A 25-year-old women, on the other hand, is thinking marriage, relationship, and future. But then you hit 30 and everything flips. And you would think this would be every guys dream – finally a gal who’s ready to get crazy in the sack! – but the highly sexualized, just-learned-a-new-yoga-pose, 30-something lady will make you sore and wear you out. It’s not that they’ve given up hope on marriage and finding “the one” – it’s simply that they are now independent and have figured out what makes their toes curl up. They put up with us in college – our total clitoral ignorance, our lazy, handjob-begging selves – and now it’s their turn to have the fun. They are in control, and they will make you realize all the dirty, crazy, wild sex you still reminisce about with your buddy was really just child’s play.

Now I want to look into the eyes of the person I’m with. I want to kiss her hard and hold her tight and – yes, this is how I say it – I want to make love. But I’m starting to fear that this might not happen until I find “the one,” someone who will maybe bring back my wild side and still want to cuddle with me after.