Let’s Talk About Sex

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Enigma Find Love

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Let’s talk about sex. What a palaver it is. It can be such a sensual, life-enriching endeavor but too often is a logistical nightmare. At its best, accompanied by flickering candles and an Al Jarreau L.P., it can cause waves of dreamy bliss, bringing you closer than ever to your loving partner. At its worst however, in the driver seat of a smart car with Gangnam Style pumping out of the radio and the only fragrance being of the Magic Tree lodged between your lover’s ass-crack, it can be nothing short of a natural disaster.

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There was always a massive stigma around sex when I was growing up, few practiced it, or at least admitted to doing so, and sex ed consisted of Mr & Mrs Bunny and not even the faintest whiff of any sensuality or sexual contact. I went through school with little idea of what to do with my anointed rod. Of course, I tried to fathom it out. I knew rigorous shaking would cause eruption, but when it come to the fairer sex, what the hell was I actually meant to do with the thing?

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The thought of sliding it into one of Auntie Norma’s fresh bakewells seemed preposterous and blow-up dolls are so laborious to assemble. Instead, I continued to wrestle my monster, in the vein hope that I came across a manual of sorts. This was before Google, nowadays you’re one click away from the secret to the universe. Back then there were no such luxuries.

Keeper’s First Time

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What an uncomfortable evening this was. It started well enough; I had met a girl in college and we had commenced a courtship. Three weeks of I Love Yous and a lot of kissing in the manner of the French, and we were ready to take things up a notch. Rather than head for a spot of heavy petting and one hand up the top, we skipped second base entirely and decided to plan our ‘coming together’. Great idea at the time, Valentine’s Day was looming and we knew how to make things special. So we organized the event like a charity fundraiser, even down to incense, oils, soothing audio and the old rose in the pillow. This was going to be a night we both remember for the rest of our lives…..no shit!

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We visited the local pharmacy to pick up some jimmy hats for the occasion. The eighties had at least taught me to be safe and we weren’t ready for children at our tender years. So we purchased a packet of condoms from the frowning assistant and made off back to the room of lurve to commence our spiritual union. My folks were out so no interruptions were forecast. Just me, my more experienced partner, a packet of prophylactics and a shiny new penis primed for unwrapping. Yeehaw!

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Much as I’d hoped the earth would move and I would emerge a sexual Trojan, this wasn’t in my tea leaves. I’ve mentioned my co-pilot was somewhat more battle-hardened in the sack, let me make it a little clearer for y’all…she had taken a fair few loads shall we say and I suspect knew Karma Sutra cover-to-cover and inside out. Problem was, she didn’t share any secrets with me, instead I fumbled around like a meth-addict trying to release the rubber sheath from its foil packaging and slide it onto my Johnson. Easy right? No it bloody wasn’t, I was so petrified that my ordinarily perky pecker was in that dreaded in-between state. Too bendy to dress, he refused to play ball. Petulant prick!

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After a few seconds, which felt like an eternity, I decided a time-out was in order and rolled over to unhook her bra. Frying pan into the fire!!! I can unfasten a hammock with reasonable haste but back then, in that moment, it became a Rubix cube. The pressure was all beginning to take its toll, this was a nightmare of epic proportions.

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To compound my misery, my parents came home early, maybe their sixth sense alerted them to my ordeal and they stepped in before things really went awry. As we heard the keys fumbling in the front door, we leaped into Def Con 5. She collected her garments while I desperately attempted to dislodge my hand from her bra-strap and flick the unused contraceptive sheath off the tip of my similarly unused penis.

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I can’t remember the dialogue but would imagine “Drat and double drat” or “I would’ve got away with it too, if it wasn’t for you pesky kids” to be the words muttered under my breath. All that build-up, only for me to run straight into the first hurdle. Never mind, we can just reschedule right? Wrong, I was dropped like a sopping satchel of sodden shit and my virginity remained woefully intact that little bit longer.

Fin

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So we’ve ascertained that sex can go wrong, but it can do so in so many different ways when not suitably trained. We’ve all been there, suffered the indignity of finding the wrong opening to land our cruiser, shooting before the starter’s gun sounds, it’s a minefield littered with banana skins. Of course, over time it does get easier. Like Steve Martin jiving to Disco Inferno it can be hard finding the best to clap to but, once rhythm is found, peace is restored and the Patrick Bateman-esque poses can be introduced. Full-length mirrors become strategically placed, Huey Lewis & The News LPs dusted off and prowess gained.

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But with each new partner comes a new puzzle to solve. Case in point, another early run-out involved a most forceful suitor informing me that she only had sex one way. “I want you to do me hard, then I will roll over and not wanna talk to you for fifteen minutes before I can look at you again” Most guys dream right? Not at all, it left me feeling vulnerable and used. Some of us guys have feelings too y’know!

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Sex is one big pitfall, just so happens it can be a rollicking good ride too. But when Mr & Mrs Bunny are copulating without so much as making contact, we’re not told how sex drives will peak and trough at different times, or that so much will depend on a cycle. Nobody informs us of chaffing. It’s a minefield I tell you.

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The moral of this story? Well, never plan it would be my first slither of advice. Deadbolt your doors or, if so inclined, leave ’em wide open. If your landing stretch seems tighter than forecast, there could be a reason for that. Never EVER cough when in cunnilingus position and remember to spoon afterwards. If you’re prepared to follow these guidelines, then you’re well on your way cadets.

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Read Going Steady

 

Truly, Clearly, Really, Sincerely,

Keeper of the Crimson Quill

Copyright: Crimson Quill: Savage Vault Enterprises 2014

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