Who Knows? Goad Knows.

For all his faults, and there are few, Jim Goad knows the ladies:

in my endless locker-room sojourns where the conversations invariably become gritty and depraved, I've never encountered another male who confided to me that he fantasizes about committing rape. Not once.

It's absolutely true.  Rape doesn't excite men, it scares them.  It sounds too much like work to be erotic.  Maybe that's why women, even worldly, educated, intelligent women like Key, think rape scenarios would make good porn:

Rugged-looking character hangs out in the alley admiring the view which is being openly flaunted for him. Tension builds. Eventually, she throws her apartment key into the street before turning her back and disappearing from sight. He tears in, throws her against the wall, shows no mercy, she gasps, she devours, she claws...and in the end SCREAMS...

I would quote more, but I just couldn't stomach it.  In their hearts, women are brutal, vicious, sexual deviants, driven to heights of ecstasy by the smell of fear and the sight of blood.  A woman can't watch two or more attractive, professionally-upholstered people having good ol' consensual butt-sex  in a swimming pool; it can't keep their interest.  They want the violence, the fear. They need it to get their disgusting sexual juices humors flowing. 

Perverts.