Dating these days is not a bed of roses. It's more like a bed in which a man tries to reenact his favorite YouPorn clip on the first date. One woman offers up a few tips on proper sexual etiquette for a generation of Internet-addled guys. For starters, "dirty whore" is not actually a term of endearment.

I was out with a Brit I'll call Robbie, because that was what he went by, poor guy. Not Robert or Rob. Or even Bob. A 31-year-old Robbie. It was our fourth date, and we'd already done some things in dark corners of various Brooklyn bars that get kids kicked out of BYU, but he hadn't, as Jason Segel might say, put his p in my v yet. It was time to take it to a bed. Or at least behind a closed door. So we went back to my apartment and consummated our courtship. There was some fumbling, as there always is at first, especially after a couple of nerve-zapping beers. But we'd managed to get the condom on, the penis in, and a nice back-and-forth rhythm going. We were making sounds like Jodie Foster in Nell. Making faces that signify a stroke. In short: Everything was coming along nicely, pun intended.

Then Robbie started talking. Indelicately. Fun fact: Turns out the Brits have their own term for "dirty slut." The phrase was something like "tidy slapper." As in "You're a tidy slapper, aren't you?" Tidy slappers, I learned, like "big hard cocks." Robbie's precoital BBC accent had morphed into a buttery Cockney. It was like I'd wandered onto the set of an X-rated movie called Cherry Poppins. Before I knew it, he was out of me, over me, and breathlessly inquiring, "Where do you want this?"

Unfortunately he was not the first nondermatologist to offer a fourth-date facial.

I'm in my late twenties. Splashing around in my pool of suitors are a bunch of dudes who have been yanking their flotation noodles to online porn since the dawn of dial-up. Men growing up in previous generations were lucky to have a JCPenney catalog to stain; if they were really lucky, they managed to smuggle a brown-bagged VHS tape up to their bedroom to watch not much boning and too much plot. But my male cohorts came of age (literally) to a million easily accessed videos culminating in money shots to the chest. Or to the face. Now a sixth grader's vocabulary includes the phrase money shot. And a lot of other terms for male ejaculate that sound like verbs from the Nickelodeon channel. (Next up:_ Splooge Attack!_)