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[He Said/She Said is a series designed to help all our wonderfully confused readers figure out what he’s really thinking. So every week we’ll be throwing out a topic for debate…and unlike our fave dude, these guys won’t be sugar coating anything for you. But before you jump into their heads (which seriously will make you feel like you need to shower), check out what we think!]

I’m not sure what crazy ass women were questioned for this, but a recent survey found that women prefer video games to sex.

Yeah, let that marinate for a second.

Now, don’t get me wrong. There was a 6-month period in there where I did nothing but play Guitar Hero. All the time. Every day. One time in a towel immediately upon stepping out of the shower. (Seriously.) I was addicted and loved the pleasure I felt when I finally mastered Heart’s Barracuda on medium.

But it didn’t make my toes curl. Or my neck tingle. Or my eyes to roll back in my head. Or…give me an orgasm.

I mean, really? How can a stupid video game even compare? (Or, better question, what kind of losers were the women surveyed sleeping with?!)

It is true that there are some things in life that are better than sex, but I’m gonna go ahead and say that video games aren’t on that list. Not even Wii Tennis, which we all know is pretty freaking awesome.

“But Lauren, what IS on that list?” Why, thank you for asking. I do love it when people look to me for answers. And lucky for you, I happen to have that list right here. Although, really, these things should be blatantly obvious.

1. An amazing sale. A few months ago, I fell in love with a Laundry dress at Bloomingdales….that happened to cost nearly $400. I walked out of the store, empty handed and head held low, and dreamed about that dress for weeks. A few weeks later, I was telling a friend about it and hopped on over to Google to send her a pic. And what did I find? That same exact dress on sale for 60% OFF…and FREE SHIPPING. I’ve never felt so good…and I didn’t even have to wash the sheets after.

2. Post-bar pizza. True story: I once turned down an invitation for late-night nookie to get some late-night pizza. There is nothing better on this earth. Nothing.

3. The conquest. You see a guy, you want him, he comes home with you. No matter how good the sex is (or how good he looks naked), it’s nothing compared to the feeling of looking over in the morning and knowing that you got exactly what you wanted. (Cue the sh*t-eating grin.) Hell, he could have merely told you he wanted to come home with you and that would have been enough. You know it’s true.

4. Playing hookie. Sure, a lazy Saturday is one of the best things on earth…lying in bed in front of the TV, ordering in greasy Thai food, not doing anything at all. But you know what’s even better? Doing all that when you know you should be in class or at work or in study groups. Happy sigh.

5. Fitting into your old skinny jeans. I just lost 20 pounds (which, by the way, means I get drunk off of one beer….score!) and finally got back into those $200 Sevens I haven’t been able to wear in 3 years. I’m feeling so good right now (mostly because my jeans aren’t cutting off the circulation to my legs anymore…) that I could probably go a full year without booty and be OK with it.

6. Winning. Whether it’s a game (Bananagrams, anyone?), an argument (“I TOLD YOU Urkel’s sexy alter-ego was Stefan!”) or a job offer, not even a 57-hour sex marathon with with Ryan Gosling can top the nearly-orgasmic feeling of accomplishment that comes with a good win.

Hm…so maybe there is some truth to that video game thing, after all.

God, so much bliss. I need a cigarette.

What’s on your ‘better than sex list’?

And what’s on his? Check out what our guy at Coed has to say.

“I don’t know if we should talk about this…”

“And why not? Everybody has sex!”

“Yeah, but everybody should be making love.”

“Come on, how many guys do you know making love?”

–Salt N Pepa, “Let’s Talk About Sex”

In the past six months, I’ve had sex. I’ve been laid. I f*cked. However, it’s been a long time since I’ve made love, and I kind of miss it. Some people might argue that there’s no difference – physically, they are the same. But emotionally, passionately, and mentally, the two deeds are very different.

1. The First Time.

The first time you make love with your partner, it’s usually a very special moment. It’s often planned out in advance, especially in new relationships. There’s often sensual foreplay, and your bodies fit together perfectly.

If it’s your first time with a new partner and you’re just having sex, it may be spontaneous. Your partner may not be your boyfriend, or even your crush, and the decision to go all the way is frequently a hormonal (thanks, booze!) impulse. First time sex can be sloppy and awkward as you try to find the right position, and after everything’s said and done, it feels like there was something missing.

2. Your BAC.

I’ve heard of drunken sex, but I’ve never heard of inebriated love-making. If anyone has experienced the urban legend of wasted love-making, I’d love to hear about it.

3. The Setting.

If you’re about to copulate in a dim room filled with candles, on a bed covered with rose petals, you’re probably going to make love. If you’re going to do it in the backseat of a car, an airplane bathroom, an elevator, or another compact space that may have legal repercussions attached, it’s sex.

Al fresco sex/love-making is a grey area. Sure, sex on the beach or in the woods may sound like a fairy tale scenario, but dirt in sand in uncomfortable places can ruin the romance.

4. The Soundtrack.

Lovemaking songs include “The Fear You Won’t Fall” by Joshua Radin or “Wild Horses” by the Rolling Stones (or any cover version, including Mazzy Star, Jewel, or the Sundays). F*cking songs range from “Crazy Bitch” by Buckcherry to “Every Girl” by Lil’ Wayne. Do you really want to ride someone when the words “You f— so good I’m on top of it” blare from the stereo? Likewise, “Birthday Sex” by Jeremih is a bit tacky.

Sure, there isn’t always music playing when you’re doing it, but if you could have picked a song to illustrate last night’s mood, which would you pick?

5. The Aftermath.

Lovemaking includes mutual orgasms, followed by spooning and cuddling. If you’re in a relationship, your boyfriend’s post-sex behavior could include promptly rolling over and falling asleep, or the phrase “That was great,” despite the fact that you didn’t get off. If you’re single, you’ll take the walk of shame after a long night of sex. In those rare occasions that you’ve made love to someone without commitment, it could turn into breakfast in the morning, a few more rounds, and maybe even a new relationship.

In my opinion (and experience), it’s far more common to have sex than to make love. However, this means that when you do find yourself both emotionally and physically stimulated with a partner you care for very deeply, you appreciate the art of lovemaking so much more than that one-night stand a few months ago with whatshisname.

Any other differences between “sex” and “making love”? Share your thoughts below!

[This story was originally posted by Kathryn S.]

And of course, there are plenty more old faves where this came from.

There are those rare circumstances where you and your partner connect on every level and every romp in the sack is transcendent and magical and effortless. But for most of us, we usually end up with a partner who intuitively understands only some of our needs. The only way to get the most mindblowing sex you can imagine? Talk that ish out.

I know, sometimes talking about sex with the person you’re having it with is downright terrifying. You don’t want to hurt your partner’s feelings, or maybe you tell yourself you’re okay with having sex that’s only 70 percent awesome. Eventually, however, you could start to get resentful of the fact that you only orgasm 30 percent of the time (when you know that you’re capable of orgasming 98 percent of the time), or you’re going to develop a complex about your boobs (because, OMG, WHY WON’T MY BOO TOUCH/LICK/SUCK them? ARE THEY NOT GOOD ENOUGH?). Or you’ve suddenly realized you really want to try spanking, but you assume your partner isn’t into it because they’ve never brought it up.

But really? All of those problems, and a lot of other sexually related ones, can be solved by just talking about it in a mature, respectful way.

If it’s something more significant, like a noticeable decrease in your partner’s sex drive, have a conversation about it outside of the bedroom (where pressure and expectations may hinder openness). Make sure you’re as non-confrontational as possible and have an open, two-way dialogue. Even if you don’t resolve your problem immediately, at least you’re both on the same page. If you find yourself hitting an awkward wall, either keep talking through it or take a break and then come back to it. Sure, the conversation may get awkward or tense, but the best way to get past that is to confront it head on.

Not all circumstances require a super intense convo, though. Sometimes, you can suggest things while you’re hot and heavy. If your partner has a tendency to neglect certain parts of your body, all you have to do is softly move their hand to wherever you want it (okay, so occasionally closed mouths can get fed…) And, you know, it’s amazing how much power one sexy whisper can have. If your partner has a tendency to stop licking/sucking/penetrating before you hit orgasm, a simple, encouraging “no, don’t stop, keep going” may be all you need. When their hard work is rewarded with you reaching the pinnacle of sexy pleasure, they’ll totally get the message (hello, positive reinforcement!)

When it comes to toys and kink, I’ve found that it’s always most comfortable to talk about it in post-coital, cuddly afterglow, when you can ask your partner questions about what they’ve fantasized about/what they’re interested in trying sexually, and you can divulge your interests too.

Maybe none of these suggestions will work because, worst case scenario, you’re not sexually compatible. And that’s when you decide whether you’re okay with settling for less than spectacular nookie or break it off. But there’s also the distinct possibility you and your partner are a lot more similar than you thought, and you can work together to have the most fabulous sex ever. Either way, you’ll be making decisions based on facts instead of assumptions.

At the end of the day, if you want something, you gotta communicate it. I firmly believe that if you’re willing to open your legs to someone, you should definitely be able to open your mouth.

Dear Dude,

I’ve been seeing this guy for about a month, roughly.  He takes me out on actual dates, always wants to hang out, and is fun to talk to. Basically, I’m pretty sure that he’s into me.  The problem is that the few times that we’ve had sex, he hasn’t finished.  We’ll go at it for over an hour and although I’ve enjoyed myself, he won’t orgasm at all!  He always initiates sex and says he enjoys spending time with me, but if he’s sexually attracted to me, then why can’t he finish?  Could it be that I’m really bad in bed?  That he isn’t sexually attracted to me?  It’s an awkward subject to bring up and I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but I don’t know how to handle it.

Sincerely,
-Can’t Get Him Off

Hi Dude,

I’m just going to get to the meat of it. My boyfriend and I were having sex, and I like to be a little vocal when I get there, you know, let him know I appreciate his handy work. Well, this time I got to that place like I have never been there before, and I guess I was more vocal than usual. He stops everything that he is doing, grabs his clothes and leaves. I didn’t even know what to say, I was in shock I guess, so I just laid there, wondering what just happened.

He calls within five minutes of leaving my apartment and tells me how “offended he was by me faking my climax, that he was ten times more offended than if I didn’t even climax at all.”

I tried to tell him that I wasn’t faking, that whatever he did that night was great and not to stop doing that for future reference, but he was convinced.

What can I do to get it through to him? I am like a fish out of water in this situation, so I have no clue how I should react.

Utterly baffled,
Ashlee

Dear Ashlee,

DAMN YOU MEG RYAN!!!!! When Harry Met Sally… let the cat out of the bag and men of multiple generations around the world have not been able to trust the female orgasm ever since.

Can guys tell a fake from the genuine article? Many claim expertise in this niche. Most of them sniff glue. The rest want to grow up to be The Situation. There are some physical clues without question but what about escalation? (“We start carrying semi-automatics, they buy automatics, we start wearing Kevlar, they buy armor piercing rounds…and you’re wearing a mask and jumping off rooftops.” Sorry, geek moment.)

For every new method of discerning authenticity, it seems you ladies develop another way to make us question. Because that’s what it comes down to, ladies of the jury, reasonable doubt. In the end, no man EVER can be more than 99.9999999999999999999999% certain you came. That leaves room for one to freak out, freak out, FREAK OUT, like your boy did, Ashlee.

Look, it’s tougher to conjure tangible proof of an orgasm from your end. Let’s be honest. Not all women squirt (if indeed squirting isn’t a myth, for you nonbelievers out there). 99 out of 100 men do ejaculate. That means we’ve got to take you at your word.

So, it comes down to trust. He apparently didn’t trust himself to be a good enough lover to take you to places that aren’t even human (“I made a woman meow”). He didn’t trust you to be honest with your orgasms or lack thereof. He lapsed in the intimacy department.

Odds are he’s had some issues with women faking it in the past or at least of him thinking they’ve faked it with him. Once again we have a situation where one partner is projecting his issues onto the other. As always, it’s a PITA!

You’ve got a few different approaches, from talking it out to seducing with role play, light bondage, or any kink you can think of. However, all roads lead to Rome. In this case, Rome is f@%*ing. Oh yeah, lots of it. And you do not stop until there is no doubt in his mind that you’ve been climbing the stairway to heaven and the stairway was his penis. That’s the best, most practical, and guaranteed way to work through this.

It may not be PC but what the Hell is so PC about a penis going into a vagina to begin with? Sex isn’t sterile. It’s fun. It’s primal. It’s chaos at it’s most exciting and pleasurable. It’s also a venue for vulnerability. He got vulnerable while you got off. Now, like any scared kitten, you’ve got to lure him back into feeling safe. Call him, meet him, screw him. And if that doesn’t work, then screw him. Get yourself a new boy toy because that one’s broken.

Having what she’s having,

The Dude

[Don't you just love him? Wish you could get more? You can! Check out The Dude's other insights into the male mind right here.]

I have spent 8 years (not continuously) with my mouth between a dude’s legs, and while I finally know that I’m good at it (one fine young man – whose name I do not know – exclaimed, “Wow! That was good!”), I still don’t love all the work is involved. It kills my jaw, my neck, and I’d rather let the guy handle things on his own than risk lock jaw on a sweaty appendage.

And do I get paid back? Not often. Lots of guys I know and have “interacted” with really aren’t into making the trip downtown on a lady. “It’s so hard!” they say. “You don’t know what we’re dealing with down there!”

Um, excuse me? They think they have it hard (pun totes not intended)?

I decided to take this issue on myself with my favorite IMing male to see if we could work through our problems and come to some sort of truce for men and women everywhere. Will this entice more men to venture South? We can only hope.

Likey? Don’t worry, there are plenty more faves where this came from.

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My mother (yes, my mother) once told me that if there aren’t fireworks between the sheets, it’s just not meant to be.  I immediately dismissed this advice, partly because it meant my menopausal mother was having better sex with my overweight father than I was with my supposedly sexually prime bedmate. But mostly, I rejected this theory because I didn’t, and still don’t, think its entirely true.

Sex – the good, the bad, and the ugly – where does it all fit in?

We make such a big deal about sex. It consumes us.  We lie about sex – we say we’re having less when we’re having more, and more when we’re having less. We worry about our relationship if the sex isn’t “above average.” We worry about our health, our sanity, our bodies and our worth if he simply rolls over. We use sex as a barometer for the status of our relationships when there couldn’t possibly be a less reliable, standardized or empirical indicator.

I, for one, do not believe that the caliber or frequency of the sex we’re having – or not having – is necessarily an accurate representation of what lies beneath. Now this is not to say that sex is not an important component of a relationship, because it is.  I fancy a good ole shag just as much as the next gal. What I am saying, though, is that thanks to soft core porn, (aka cable television), Megan Fox, and Cosmopolitan articles with titles like “Give Him the Best Sex of His Life” and “101 Sex Positions to Try Before You Die,” we have been made to believe that not only should we be having sex every night, but great sex every night, and this just isn’t realistic.

These fallacies also spawn a kind of sexual competition among men, women, and couples alike. “Do you guys have a swing? Where have you done it today? Have you tried the Reverse Amazon? What about the Jellyfish? The Bent Spoon?” It’s like losing your virginity automatically (and unwittingly) qualifies you for the sex Olympics and suddenly everybody’s keeping score, or being judged, or being stripped of their medals for performance enhancers. The whole world was turned upside down when Sting revealed that he has epic bouts of tantric sex with his wife on a regular basis, and women everywhere were making statements about “how lucky his wife is.” Now, I’m sorry, but I have no time to be having seven hour sex sessions; I have to eat an Italian sub, pass a bowel, and watch reality TV all before 1 p.m., so this just isn’t going to work. And quite frankly, I have no desire to play hide the canoli for four hundred and twenty minutes. Should I feel bad about that?

We are constantly bombarded with images of beautiful people having beautiful sex. And because of this they are happy…elated…energized! We are repeatedly told by “sexperts” that you need to spice things up in the bedroom to “keep the magic alive.” And when friends get together and talk the dirty (and not in the middle of the day at a local shabby chic diner for hours at a time like Sex and the City would lead you to believe), it’s almost always about a mind blowing orgasm, a rainy day marathon, or an inopportune and especially volatile queef.

But what about the average sex everyone is having? Why don’t we ever hear about that? Is consistent, moderate sex unacceptable?

I just do not believe that people all over the world are having non-stop, tear jerking, flesh gauging sex – and I think that’s OK. In fact, I think that’s natural and normal. Great sex takes work, and personally, I’m not always up for the challenge. I’ll admit it – sometimes it’s nice to just lie there, (and you’re lying if you say you’ve never felt the same). Yes, most of the time sex is an incredibly fulfilling, invigorating and enriching experience, and yes, most of the time I’m a team player. But after a ten hour day, four non-light beers, and two episodes of Intervention, I can guaran-f*cking-tee you I won’t be hanging from chandeliers or slipping into any tutus. AND I’M OKAY WITH THAT.

I recently had a friend come to me in tears, terrified that her relationship was over because “we are only having sex  every other day.” Although my concerns had more to do with the condition of her vagina, I simply responded, “you’re totally fine.” This was not enough for her, however, because she had fallen victim to another “sex myth.”

Time and time again, we have heard that the quality of sex is directly related to how much you care about the person, but that just isn’t the case. I think that perfect strangers can have mind-blowing quickies, I think you can have mediocre love making sessions with your soul mate, I think perfectly happy couples can hit a dry spell, and that two people with nothing in common can come together (pun intended) in bed (or on couch, in backseat, hanging from flagpole, whatever your fancy).

Certainly it makes sense that the emotional connection you have with your partner will affect the sex you share with him (or her) – stronger feelings will produce a deeper sense of intimacy, inspiring more passionate bedroom business, and bringing poignancy and sentiment to an exchange that can otherwise be quite barren. We are also inclined to be more generous and attentive lovers when we respect and appreciate our bedmates. And finally, and perhaps most importantly, the closer we are with our partners, the more comfortable we feel talking about the sex, sharing our likes and dislikes, our haves and have nots, and exploring fantasies, fetishes and fears that would otherwise remain dormant (and unfulfilled). However, I think this theory has some loopholes, and that it often plateaus, and once again, that the sex simply is not always indicative of, or an accurate representation of the tenor and essence of a relationship.

Nothing comes easily in the world that lies within our bedposts, and I’m tired of being told that it does! I’m tired of doing kegel exercises while watching Oprah so I can really nail that Reverse Cowgirl. I’m tired of watching middle-aged women climax repeatedly on courtroom dramas. I’m tired of oysters being marketed as aphrodisiacs – they’re fookin’ delicious, and that’s why I’ll eat 100 of them. And most of all, I’m tired of everyone denying the fact that just maybe, when the moon is full, or when the tide is red, or when the goddam pigs go soaring past your bedroom window, that they too, from time to time, are having just average sex.

[This post was originally written by Lexi C - Brown.]