Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby.
January 31, 2011 § 1 Comment
Smitten. Total swoon. Crushing hard. Gaga. Head over heels. The whole nine yards. Okay, enough! It’s time to have the sex. Eventually, one way or another hands are going to wander to where they should not be and bodies will surrender to impulses. It’s only natural, we are all raw human beings. After the climax you ponder… Was it worth the wait? Or… How do I avoid seeing him ever again?
It shouldn’t be anything less that phenomenal. You’ve both done it before (unless someone has a secret) – it’s an instinctual act, there really isn’t much that can malfunction. We’re all adults here. Yet, trying to do it together for the first time is more awkward than watching and extra large person try to buckle themselves in for a domestic flight in late July. Sweaty, furrow-browed, and chafing. There’s nothing pretty or glamorous about it.
I feel judged quietly. Being of the female gender, I stew over the episode until the next time I see him. Seeing him completely naked, him seeing my bare ass… it’s completely game changing. He now knows about that unsightly scar, that questionable mole, the shape of my southern lips and every little dimple more commonly called cellulite. On the flip side, I now know exactly how much body hair I’m dealing with, how much he truly works out, the sweat factor, and everyone’s favorite: the size of the dong.
While I’m being honest, even the prettiest of pricks can be unsatisfying if there is no rhythm. It’s as if the best song in the world was performed by a tone-deaf vocalist. No matter how many times we say it, they still don’t believe it. It’s not the size of the ship but the motion in the ocean. I had to convince an old boyfriend that he was actually growing, “Babe, I swear it’s getting bigger, I can tell.” It took months of unsatisfying sex and faux measuring tape to get him to feel comfortable with his size. Amy Poelher said it best in a SNL guest appearance on Weekend Update, “We can’t waste time arguing over penises. Besides, ladies don’t care how big a penis is. Unless it’s really big or really small.” You got to own it, guys. Own every inch of it and know exactly how to use it. Don’t be lazy with your love muscle. Let’s not forget that sex does take some athleticism.
You’ve been painting yourself as a fair maiden this whole time, but once the legs are spread the whole ladylike mirage goes straight out the window. I don’t even know what comes out of my mouth. I’m a gal who likes it a little rough, so if my ride isn’t up to par I might blurt out some instruction. “Let me tame the bull,” seems to be a favorite segway for a position changer.
Never mind the lady bits hair-do situation, especially if I’ve been caught on an off week. I could be known as “the prickly one” to all his friends from here on out. Which is another thing, yes, we talk about it, and they talk about it. I don’t like to kiss and tell, unless I’m asked twice. Us gals, we call it Brunch and that’s where we swap sack stories (get it? sack stories).
When you go to there with someone new, even if it’s not your first rodeo, it always feels like you’re in the middle of the ring without your rope. The pressure is on. Measuring sexual chemistry is different than adding up sexual tension. If he flops maybe give it another turn on the merry-go-round? Beyond that, it might just not a good fit, and be honest, it’s probably not you. There are stickier situations you’d rather be in, and I hope you’ll find them with someone else. Above all, condoms on hand, back up lube, and safety third.