January 19, 2004 Health

	photo essay
	Animal Attraction There's more than one way to make hay, as birds, bees and bonobos know
	graphic
	Where Our Sex Drive Comes From Mapping the origins of sex drive on the human body
	remedies
	Love Potions A guide to some of the medical treatments available for what ails our libidos
	self-test
	The Passionate Love Scale Determine just how you feel about that special (or ex-special) someone

The only way to improve your sex life, Friday argued, is by being honest and open. So I figured Cassandra and I would boldly seek advice in a public forum. We called in to Playboy TV's Night Calls Live, whose hosts are former adult-film star Juli Ashton and formerly less-well-endowed Tiffany Granath. About halfway into our call, when Ashton looked into the camera and asked Cassandra and me what kind of sex toys we owned, I realized that people usually use pseudonyms when they call in to sex shows. Not only was I stuttering, but I had sweat pooling on my T shirt, which, if I had had a better attitude toward this project, I probably shouldn't have been wearing. After some questioning, Ashton recommended that I learn some finesse: "That's when you become a great lover instead of a competent lover." I told her I'd be pretty happy with competent. "That's so sad," Ashton, whose top had somehow dropped off, said.

Granath suggested we spice up our marriage with a threesome. I expressed concern that this would cause jealousy and destabilize our relationship. "Do it with someone you don't see every day," Ashton suggested. I explained that it wasn't the third person who might resent me for the rest of my life. Granath, in what I suspect was a ratings ploy, offered herself as a third party, at which time Cassandra proved my point about these situations causing tension and threatened a catfight. Despite all of this, Ashton pushed the menage a trois: "Afterward, you'll fantasize about it. You'll laugh about it," she said reassuringly, to which I responded, "One day we'll tell our children about it." With that thought, my lifelong obsession about being with two women was cured. Thanks, Playboy TV.

It was becoming clear that the way to spice up my marriage wasn't by bringing in more people but by listening to Cassandra, given that my attitude toward sex is about as subtle as my attitude toward writing, only without bothering with that introductory-paragraph part. So I signed up for a seminar at Toys in Babeland, a sex shop run by lesbians in Manhattan. Thirty other men in their 20s and 30s showed up for "Sex Tips for Straight Men." It turned out lesbians know a lot about how to have sex with a woman. They suggested conning your partner into doing things by making a dinner date to talk about your sex life, or, if that is too difficult, earmarking a dirty story with a plot you want to try and leaving it on her bed stand. This all sounded reasonable until I realized that the instructors were holding a giant vagina hand puppet and standing next to a giant sign that said HOW TO PICK YOUR HARNESS!

Basically, I learned that women think of sex as some strange form of relaxation therapy instead of as the rigorous sport it's meant to be. Also, I learned that there's nothing in the world funnier than 30 guys licking their palms to see what it feels like.

To learn more about Cassandra, I had to find out what women say about sex when they're alone. To do that, I sat quietly in the back of a Bronx, N.Y., apartment, shopping for sex toys with 30 young women, many of whom were drunk elementary school teachers. In a 21st century twist on Tupperware parties, women invite their friends to buy X-rated products at home events. Passion Parties is a 10-year-old company with $20 million in sales whose slogan is Where Every Day Is Valentine's Day. Every day also seems to require a package of AA batteries that would make Costco blush. I quickly learned some very unspicing lessons, like that women hate to give oral sex and aren't all that fond of men in general, which is ironic, since they like absolutely anything vaguely shaped like a man's genitals. There was a lot of giggling and passing stuff around. I never got tired of tapping the woman in front of me with a vibrator. Eager to continue tapping, I checked out Passion's competitor, Temptations Parties, where company founder and November 1982 Playmate Marlene Janssen taught a dozen women in a Manhattan apartment how to test vibrators on the tips of their noses. Apparently, if it makes you sneeze, you won't be able to tolerate it. Although that information was surprising, the most shocking revelation was that it takes a group of women 45 minutes before someone starts using a sex toy as a fake microphone.

Through all of this, I learned that our society has a long way to go before it will be able to confront sexuality seriously, and that I have a lot further to go than that. The entire, Redbooky marriage-spicing industry is skewed to make couples feel better about their lame sex lives. Sure, it's hard to tell your spouse what you really want—especially because for many women it seems to be eight hours of bathtub back massage as foreplay—but honesty is better than getting to the point where you have to watch that Advanced Sexual Techniques tape. We'd all be a lot better off if my mom just told people that. Especially me.

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