I was a shy and awkward 22-yr-old when I had my fist real girlfriend. We'd necked a few times and I'd taken her to a Johnny Winter concert, our only real date as such. She was wearing a little neckchain that featured a beaver - I nearly vomited trying to suppress the associations popping into my brain. She just fixed me with this enigmatic ambiguous smile.
Sometime later, we went camping with friends. I really had no idea what to expect, so I took along my pajamas. On the first night, I came back from the beach and found that she had zipped our sleeping bags together.
Ummm... we didn't happen to have a lawyer or a witness or a notary public there, let alone any sort of formal contract. So I caved. Guess I should call the cops now, huh? She never asked for my formal consent.
If I have a point, it's just that this notion that any sexual activity requires clear prior verbal consent from the woman is totally disconnected from reality. And if that's "mansplaining", well tough.