There is a prevailing narrative in Western culture wherein women don't actually enjoy or desire sex, and trade sexual favours to men for either material wealth or promises of fidelity. Now, certainly, this does take place in the world, but I've been privileged to know a wide variety of women across all the gender and sexual spectrums, so I'm well aware - on a deliberate, conscious level - that there is such a thing as female sexual desire.

On a subconscious level, though, down in the weirdass dark self-hating misandry-masquerading-as-feminism quadrant of my brain (the place I pull Lily from), there's a little voice that says it isn't so. It's the sardonic, cynical voice that responds to any declaration of female arousal with "what does she want?". It's the voice that says "she hasn't told you to leave yet, but that's only because she's afraid you'll be upset". It's the voice that says "women are attractive and men aren't, keep your anatomy to yourself, no one wants to see it".

I'm not really mentioning this because it's a good thing, or because I've figured out how to get that voice to shut up, I'm just talking about how my brain works. I like to think writing helps.