“It has the consistency of a medium steak.” Dr. Michelle Mars
If we go back to old tantric texts (who doesn’t?), this whole G-spot business was sorted out thousands of years ago. It was called the kunda gland, where kundalini (ecstatic energy) was supposed to reside.
Somewhere along the way we lost track of the G-spot, calling it everything from a myth to an inconvenience (snuck in the title there). If someone had just opened up an old tantric text, we’d still be calling it the kunda gland—but we didn’t. We called it a myth instead and women had to wait until 1980 when researchers Perry and Whipple announced to the world that, indeed, there was a spot in the vagina that was very erogenous.
Actually, Freud acknowledged its presence years before that, but he didn’t call it a G-spot because it wasn’t named after him. It was named after Dr. Grafenberg who not only acknowledged the G-spot, but showed where it was located. This earned him many accolades, including the name G-spot.
Perry and Whipple were the ones who found them consistently in over four hundred women. That’s more than Harry Reems did.
Interestingly, it was Perry and Whipple who named it that, a nice gesture considering all Dr. Grafenberg did was determine the G-spot’s existence. Perry and Whipple were the ones who found G-spots consistently in over four hundred women. That’s more than Harry Reems did in the seventies.
Enough of history, though, since we’re here to talk about the male G-spot, something that doesn’t get talked about nearly as much as the female equivalent. The reason is mainly because of the male G-spot’s location.
A woman’s G-spot is neatly tucked up inside the vagina, whereas the male version is three quarters of a finger length up his ass. That’s about three quarters of a finger length more than most men are comfortable with.
“It’s where homos go,” one man wrote on a social media forum, “or big prison types named Pinky.” If it wasn’t for Pinky, we wouldn’t be so bummed out about our G-spots (or P-spots). Stigmas are stigmas, though, and any attempt to turn the anus into a pleasure center makes us feel like we‘re forming letters to the Village People’s “YMCA.”
Well, many of us still aren’t going to ask, so a lot of articles, especially in magazines like Cosmopolitan are doing the asking for us.
Not that we should ignore the male kunda gland, or we’ll end up calling it a myth, too. Besides, the people you’d think would be worried about the location of the male P-spot, aren’t worried at all. In fact, 80 percent of women in a recent survey admitted they’d perform a prostate massage on their partner if they were asked, and that’s without having the slightest clue where it is or if it stays in one place during Eastern Finals.
Well, most women aren’t going to ask so a lot of articles, especially in magazines like Cosmopolitan, are doing the asking for us. This is based on new findings that some men might find disturbing (or liberating, depending on your point of view).
A study last year discovered that 71 percent of straight men in relationships have tried or admitted they’d like to try a prostate massage (even if they do pronounce it prostrate).
“Hell,” one man stated, “after shooting a sac-draining load, I can still go out and chainsaw a cord of wood.”
Some self-proclaimed hetro males are even coming forward on social media forums, claiming they go absolutely bonkers over prostate massages. Does this make them feel gay? “Hell,” one man stated, “after shooting a sac-draining load, I can still go out and chainsaw a cord of wood.”
“Now that’s the kind of man I like,” CozyKitten responded.
“ Five bucks and my left nut say you’re a dude, a virgin and a troll,” another man wrote.
“I’m still completely hetro,” CozyKitten replied. “You don’t want it, that’s your deal, but you’re missing out on a hell of an orgasm. My boyfriend’s last one went on right through Saturday Night Live.”
Research supports this and not in the facile way most articles claim, saying, it’s giving women “a run for their money.” Women don’t need a run for their money. They’ve been stimulating their G-spots for years with good results, especially with new vibrators and dildos specifically targeting the G-spot.
Women, on the other hand, even have lipsticks that vibrate.
Sales have tripled in the last five years alone, whereas butt plugs and other male-oriented stimulators are what marketers call “slow discovery.” Numbers are growing, but it’s not like men carry this stuff around with them.
Women, on the other hand, even have lipsticks that vibrate.
Asked customs inspectors what they find in luggage, purses and carry-ons these days, and they’ll tell you women pack the works. Men don’t, or they don’t admit they do, and whatever it is that looks suspicious in their man purse is nobody’s business and, damn it, it’s a jack pack, not a purse!
Obviously this is still a touchy subject, one that matches anything Aristophanes wrote about back in ancient Greek times. Greek men didn’t have a problem with homosexuality, but the moment a woman went anywhere near their bung holes, they’d roam the Mediterranean until woman learned to keep their fingers to themselves.
We’re somewhat more liberated today, although slightly uneven when it comes to male and female interests. Women are gung-ho, men fractionalized, possibly because they aren’t ancient Greeks.
So, if women are willing, and men are only half willing, what will it take for men to realize the sexual importance of their P-spots? Would it help knowing prostate massage can thicken erections? Or that erectile dysfunction could be resolved by a butt plug followed by a woman trying to get it out again?
Any form of “hunting” makes us think you’re trying to free a long lost Dinky toy.
All of which brings us back to the issue of prodding. Women adore men hunting for their G-spots. Men would rather you acted like their doctors, finding it in one swift motion. Any form of “hunting” makes us think you’re trying to free a long lost Dinky toy. We’re also sure our doctors do it in one swift motion because they don’t like it any more than we do.
If swiftness is the key, here are some directions that might help women avoid fumbling around where men don’t want them fumbling. As I mentioned off the top, the P-spot is a little less than a finger length up a man’s anus. To start, tie an elastic band three quarters up your finger. This is how far you go unless your man tells you to push further. If he does, take the elastic off your finger (so it doesn’t catch on the Dinky toy).
Make sure you’re using a water-based lubricant—and lots of it. Men are wimps. They’re also pretty sure it’s not like pornos where fingers seem to have no lubrication whatsoever. Pornos use more lubricant than heavy machinery.
Normally, men would rather have Jenna James, but male sphincters don’t slam shut on doctors. They’ll slam shut on Jenna James.
You should also consider finger cots or disposable gloves. Gloves remind us of doctors, whereas bare fingers remind us of, well, Jenna James. Men would rather have Jenna James, but male sphincters don’t slam shut on doctors. They might slam shut on Jenna James.
If your man still feels squeamish, you can always start by rubbing the perineum. This is an area of skin between the anus and the scrotum that looks like it needs ironing. Many women stroke the perineum during oral sex or when they want money for pizza. It’s also great if you totaled his car.
They’ll do it, but hearing prostatic fluid allows sperm to travel faster to your eggs is worse than a doctor saying “I left something up there. Read the note.”
Obviously, this article glosses over many aspects of the male G-spot. That may be a good thing. Men don’t want to talk about it. They’ll do it, but hearing prostatic fluid allows sperm to travel faster is worse than a doctor saying “I left something up there. Read the note.”
Just stick to what matters. He’s got a G-spot that’s a bit of a sleeper. If you hit it, he’ll be a happy camper. If you find the Dinky toy, he’ll be even happier.
Just remember, take your time. Rome wasn’t built in a day. The Romans were worse than the Greeks, by the way.
Concentrate on the job at hand. Take your time, lubricate, and don’t play The Village People. It’s not funny.
Robert Cormack is a writer, novelist and blogger. His first novel “You Can Lead a Horse to Water (But You Can’t Make It Scuba Dive)” is available online and at most major bookstores. You can read Robert’s other articles and short stories at robertcormack.net.