The Marilyn Complex by Sugar Kane
She’s in your wet dreams. The Marilyn. The nymphomaniac, the vixen, the vamp, the sex goddess. The one who shows up to your door naked and in Louboutin heels at two in the morning saying, “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.”
Marilyn Monroe, playing the vixen
She’s wild and untamed, spontaneous and exciting. She’s gorgeous and hungry, she whispers, “I want to fuck,” in your ear while you sit next to her in a business meeting. And instead of “let’s go get some lunch,” your lunch is Marilyn.
You want her all the time, every second. She floods your mind. She’s an addiction. And even though she’s empowered by her amorous nature, she wants to submit to you, all the time. “Take me! Fuck me! Devour me! Yes! Yes!” she screams as you fuck for hours in the bathroom stall, in the elevator, under the stairwell. Wherever. Marilyn is always game.
And you are smitten. Because Marilyn is not only the most amazing sex you’ve ever had, but she’s also fun and exciting, intellectual and driven. She would hop on a plane coupled by her lover without a second thought, and stimulate his mind with astute conversation or compliment his masculinity the entire way. She parties and dances, she loves adventures in the jungle, but can be the star at a cocktail party. She’s every man’s dream, right?
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Long ago, my friend Edie had a lascivious fling with a man; let’s call him Mr. Y. They were insane, just like Edie liked it. She was his devoted submissive and he, her despotic master. It was steamy and reckless. They cavorted in the jungle, seeking carnal pleasures. Edie enjoyed his kink and Mr. Y enjoyed beating her ass with a bamboo stick. They fucked like gods and Edie, like any good little sex servant, took it upon herself to maintain a fantasy world unlike any Mr. Y had ever known.
Suddenly, one day it ended.
“I’m over it,” she said.
“What? Why?” I was in shock.
“Well, he can’t give me the attention I need. I need his attention! I need to be owned, I need the passion. I don’t want sloppy seconds!”
Later, we found out Mr. Y was seeing a homely woman whose goal in life was to be a wife and mother. “I wanted to marry someone I could see having my children,” he said.
“Men are so willing to respect anything that bores them,” said Marilyn.
Edie is a Marilyn. And while Mr. Y was enthralled by her sex, her beauty and her lecherous prose, in the end, he was convinced that he had to tie the knot with a Jackie O.
Jackie O: the woman who is the mother of your children. The woman who has dinner ready, goes to church every Sunday and has sex with you every Friday night after the kids are in bed. Jackie O is a smart woman, a success and a good mother. She keeps the house in order, her career (if she refrains from housewifery) in check, and always compliments her husband on a job well-done. She is pretty and classy. She is fun, yet reserved.
Marilyns like Edie and I—we know those Jackie types and the men that marry them. When we run across the guys who fall in love with a Marilyn, or even have the balls to marry one, we have to wonder about them. Do they even know what they are getting into? Can they handle it?
The average young brute on the street would scoff at anyone questioning his ability to please a Marilyn. “Baby, I could satisfy you all night long! You have no idea how I work it, baby girl! Woo! Damn, what I would love to do with those sexy thighs and ass. I would have you screaming, girl!”
And even if a man doesn’t say it, he thinks it. Because most men expect a Jackie O and are bewildered when the bedroom door opens for the millionth time that night and Marilyn says, “I want more.”
While Marilyn is insatiably horny, sexually liberated and kinky, she also has that brainy side and drive for success. Mixing the two can be dangerous; this is where we get our Pamela Andersons, our Jenna Jamesons, our Catherine Millets—women who have combined their love of sex with a career, creating a female who is powerful because of her sexuality as well as her financial and intellectual clout.
To a man, this may be intimidating. If any one of these three women (Monroe, Anderson, Jameson, Millet) came knocking at your door, naked and in heels at 2 AM, would you be able to handle it? Really, would you? And if you could, for how long? Days, months, years? A Marilyn gets bored easily. If she’s not your entire world, and you are not constantly motivated to match her kink, she starts to go astray.
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I was the first woman Aidan had ever really fucked. He had had sex before, of course, but he never felt like he “could really be free with a woman sexually,” as he put it one night, post-coitus.
At the beginning of our relationship, Aidan had some issues. We’d be rolling around in the sheets, me in raunchy lingerie, him coming from a sexually repressed “let’s just cut a hole in the sheet and get it over with” ex-girlfriend, and yet there was nothing. I’d reach my greedy fingers into his jeans only to find, well, very little.
At first I blamed myself. Then I felt sorry for him. Then I got mad. “Oh for God’s sakes, look at me! I’m HOT! What the fuck?! Do you even know how much I spent on this fucking bustier and garter belt? Why is it so goddamn hard to be fucked?”
He couldn’t handle it, the pressure of this over-sexed woman. The Marilyn he so badly wanted was also his worst fear. Apprehensive, he was afraid he would never be the JFK she wanted.
And even when it came to this Marilyn’s intellect—her passion for writing—Aidan was lost. He didn’t know what to do with a woman who never hesitated to post salacious information for the world to see. He didn’t know what to do with a woman who wrote porn, looked at porn and was willing to watch porn right along with him. He didn’t know what to do when she asked him to meet her in the boys’ bathroom for a dick suck, or when she told him she always had a fantasy of being kidnapped and tied up. And more than anything else, he couldn’t understand why a Marilyn would dump a man after the attention meant for her was given to an ex-girlfriend, whose new mission in life seemed to be the exploitation of whatever she knew of this Marilyn’s sexuality, to shame her before the important people in her life.
Aidan suffered from the Marilyn Complex. As much as this man dreamed of Marilyn, told himself that she was what he wanted, in the end he couldn’t handle her. So let’s be authentic with ourselves, darling, and admit that all Aidan could really handle was a Jackie O.
So what happens to the men who marry a Marilyn and the men who marry a Jackie?
The men who marry Jackie O feel either sexually repressed or have affairs with a Marilyn. “Husbands are chiefly good lovers when they are betraying their wives,” Marilyn said.
And the men who marry a Marilyn, well, they are usually completely jaded. That hot steamy sex he promised her for life eventually turns into vanilla sex with a wham-bam nut, and it’s over, baby. Goodnight!
Frustrated and resentful, Marilyn goes out on a hunt for amorous pursuits, for she must be the center of attention for someone. She refuses to partake in a mediocre sex life. Even if she is disappointed by the affairs, she is still subconsciously satisfied in knowing she is being a bad girl, wild and crazy, fervently searching for a life that is unsettled and unpredictable. That’s what fuels a Marilyn, married or not.
And for some reason men still can’t get enough of a Marilyn. If a man is smart, he will partake in her chaos in small increments. If he’s a greedy fool, he’ll marry one.
Regardless, the Marilyn Complex haunts the male mind, sometimes to the point of insanity. While men say they want the fantasy for life, it’s not really true. If you were to live a porno day in and out, wouldn’t you get a little tired? As a Marilyn, I say, “No!” but for several men, they would rather have a five-minute fuck and hit the hay. Jackie would be okay with this, since it’s only Wednesday and Friday is your day for a little spark, right?
A Jackie is safe, dependable and will always be there, while a Marilyn is nomadic, easily distracted and dangerous.
So boys, what do you think? Do you want more? I thought so.
