I’m all for equality when it comes to intercourse, genitally speaking. I believe my partners have just as much a right to get their rocks off as I do, and yes, I am as equally concerned with their satisfaction as I am my own.

As a woman, I’m proud of my vagina and all that she stands for, but that doesn’t mean I value my snatch as the superior sex organ. In fact, I find male genitalia quite fascinating, balls and all, an enigma of sorts that never ceases to surprise and amaze me. For women like me, your junk is a work of art, a labyrinth we are more than willing to solve for however long it may take…if you catch my drift.

But as a hot-blooded young female with a libido that some say rivals the size of the Washington Monument, I’m quite appalled by a trend I see not only in my own sex life, but also in those of almost every woman on campus with enough gumption to talk to me about it—the selfish lover.

If you’re one of those guys who bangs a chick, comes, rolls off of her and then retreats to the bathroom to tidy up, I’m talking about you. So pay attention.

I cannot stress to you enough how incredibly disappointing it is to be mere thrusts away from actual vaginal orgasm, only to have you blow your load before the big shebang.

As you collapse sweaty and panting on top of me, a cramp begins to twitch in my leg. At first, I have hope. I think perhaps you’ll be a gentleman and help me along my own way to nirvana, but I am an optimist. Instead, you peel yourself up and swagger to the bathroom al la John Wayne, and I’m left to wonder, Is this what I came here for?

No. It’s not. I came here for the same reasons you did, and where I succeeded, you, my poor boy, failed—and yes, it is your fault. If you have an orgasm, you sure as hell better see to it that she has one, too (or he, or they, or whoever) because let me tell you something, you’re a complete prick if you don’t, and I don’t mean the good kind of prick. And while we may not be in high school anymore, we are not yet above swapping sex stories, and we probably never will be. I try not to condone kissing and telling, but am I guilty of it? You bet.

Let me make something clear. I’m not saying I want someone to do all the work and be solely liable for my satisfaction, and to be honest with myself, I’m also to blame for not being vocal and assertive enough about my own needs. It takes two to tango. But it’s a matter of common courtesy.

How would you like it if I came first and then called it a night, leaving you to, quite literally, handle the throbbing situation between your legs on your own? Because that’s what I have to do when you decide you’re done, and if I wanted to have sex with myself, I wouldn’t have brought you home.

I am neither pro-monogamy nor otherwise, and the same goes for casual sex. To each his own, and if you want to hook up with someone without any commitment involved, go for it. Just make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into, and I don’t mean the potential for an emotional attachment (while I agree that this is a legit risk, I like to think that we’re all smart enough and have enough self-respect to protect ourselves physically and emotionally).

Realize that, chances are, you aren’t going to have mind-blowing sex, but this doesn’t mean you shouldn’t, at the very least, expect to get off. All orgasms are not created equal, and although it might not be an “earth-shattering, show-stopping, every-other-cliché-adjective” orgasm, it should still be an orgasm, nonetheless.

This isn’t to say that a casual sexual encounter can’t be a memorable one (the good kind)—I’m just saying it’s not as likely as the alternative. But fellas, let me tell you something—if ain’t makin’ making me come, you ain’t ever getting a piece of the treasure trove that is my vagina ever again.

Ladies, if you suffer as I do, don’t make my mistakes. Speak up. Let your partner, regardless their sex, know what you want. Failing all else, get on top and take control. Or, find someone with a broader skillset than that of a 15-year-old boy.