Sex is great. It’s wonderful and exciting and delicious and steamy…just incredible. More than anything however sex is best enjoyed in a bed where you can break out all of your best tricks and techniques.
I know that the film and porn industries have colluded to make us all feel deficient in our sex lives because we aren’t fucking up against a wall in a dark alley or steaming up the mirrors of a swanky hotel elevator. The truth is that while sex doesn’t have to be vanilla, it is best enjoyed and performed in the most vanilla of places: THE BED!
Why you ask? Well I’ll tell you why and I’m certain (not cocky) that I’ll convince you too.
The thing about carpets is that it only feel good between your toes after a long day of struggling in stilettos. Carpet leaves awful rug burn on knees, backs and elbows. Most people think the floor is an acceptable alternative to a bed because its flat, but the truth is that if given a choice between stand up sex anywhere and carpet sex, I’d choose standing any day of the week.
I’ve had more rug burn, fish bowl pebbles, pennies and other debris embedded in my skin & hair to last several lifetimes, all leading me to the conclusion that I’d rather get fucked in a dark alley than standard issue, industrial grade carpet.
Unless of course you have a wealthy fuck buddy who has plush carpeting that feels like Egyptian cotton. Then it’s perfectly acceptable…but don’t fall for sex in front of the fireplace. It’s hot, the wood crackling will throw you off and firelight when not provided by candles leaves weird shadows reminiscent of Candyman or some other mediocre horror flick.
Getting caught having sex isn’t great; the idea of getting caught having sex is what turns on most people…so they say. The truth is that getting caught can put a real damp on sex. Stopping when you hear the sound of heels on concrete or tile floors, distant voices and the dreaded re-start are all great ways to sexually frustrate anyone, me in particular.
Once I get going and the breathing gets heavy I am in no mood at all to stop. Not for cops, not for the elderly, not for children or hotel workers…NO ONE! When you have sex in bed, even if it’s the bed of someone else, at least you can just get on with the act of coming. If you get caught, so what, you’re in a bed and in the words of Nancy Sinatra ‘beds are made for fuckin’’. Okay maybe she was talking about boots and walkin’, but you get my drift.
Sex sans bed usually means down and dirty go straight for the penetration, which under some circumstances is just fine, more than fine in fact. But the truth is that I know very few women who can come quickly—as in 5 minutes or less. This usually means that an out of bed quickie is only good for one of us and that ‘us’ is most certainly not YOU.
Me, I love foreplay. I savor the feel of hands, lips, tongue and fingertips exploring my body for lost treasures. The electric sensation that runs through me with a kiss placed in the crook of my neck is one that makes my senses swirl. And I think we already know how I feel about oral…I LOVE it. Which is what makes out of bed sex so…undesirable. Don’t get me wrong I’ve taken part in my fair share of bathroom, coatroom, someone else’s room and car sex, among others. But I find that nothing does me right more than a good old fashioned vanilla…bed.
The bed lets you get optimal positioning and more importantly multiple positions to make sure all parties involved are sufficiently satisfied by the time the grunting and convulsing begins.
Maybe in my younger days I found a certain thrill to being held up against a cold hard wall and pounded by a hard young man or woman. But today I want to savor sex and enjoy every minute of it. I don’t want to stop my passion lest a passerby get more than they bargained for and I don’t want to rush through sex. As a young American woman it took me awhile to really learn to enjoy sex (ok not that long, I was 19 when I had my first honest to goodness orgasm) and now that I know how to wrench every second of enjoyment from just about any sexual encounter, that’s exactly what I intend to do.
Sex in a wine cellar sounds romantic and sexy and very Victorian. But the truth is that wine cellars are cold and damp and dark and most of all they are cement cellars. While adept at keeping a ‘77 Bordeaux at a crisp 68.4 degrees, a wine cellar is not conducive to a sustainable erection or knee health.
Let’s put it this way; in the movies or romance novels they seem to make sex out of bed the hottest goddamned thing since porn. Then you try it and of course feel utterly inadequate because you didn’t enjoy it as much as the heroine. But of course even if I were fucking Brad Pitt in a wine cellar the only thing positive I’d have to say is “I fucked Brad Pitt”. And if you knew me better—or you have eyes–you’d know how great I thought that idea was, but the fact is that it would be mediocre sex. In a wine cellar. With Brad Pitt.
When it comes to great sex I’ll take a vanilla bed with all the kinky toppings instead of pseudo-thrilling sex someplace where the sex can’t be properly and thoroughly enjoyed.