She didn’t present it as an issue of feminism to me, but after much soul-searching about why the idea of my wife having sex with other men bothered me I came to a few conclusions: Monogamy meant I controlled her sexual expression, and, not to get all women’s-studies major about it, patriarchal oppression essentially boils down to a man’s fear that a woman with sexual agency is a woman he can’t control. We aren’t afraid of their intellect or their spirit or their ability to bear children. We are afraid that when it comes time for sex, they won’t choose us. This petty fear has led us as a culture to place judgments on the entire spectrum of female sexual expression: If a woman likes sex, she’s a whore and a slut; if she only likes sex with her husband or boyfriend, she’s boring and lame; if she doesn’t like sex at all, she’s frigid and unfeeling. Every option is a trap.
This paragraph is the crone giveaway. A bitter, lonely cat lady wrote this article as a hoax to fellate her scorched ego and lash out at all the men who pass her by or use her up. True, the lowliest of lowly men COULD have written such excrescence, but the way to bet is that an insol spinster with delusions of vengeance and… sexual agency (heh)… fantasized this whole scenario into existence. She hits too many jargony femcunt talking points too squarely on the whiskered nose. Madonna/whore double standard? Check. Alpha fux/beta bux strategy justification? Check. Anti-judgmentalism? Check. Patriarchal oppression? Check. Dismissing as cultural baggage the real, primal, biologically-founded fear men have for cheating wives who might get pregnant by another man and foist their bastard spawn on them as their own? Checkold.