So, yesterday I was thinking about sex 😉

Specifically, I was thinking about the sexual gymnastics that some indulge in, I guess in an effort to demonstrate their prowess. And, I was thinking about how many of us ladies truly enjoy all of that.

Let’s address this early: I do not! Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing remotely prudish about me; that would constitute a genetic, astrological and age-related anomaly – I am Trini, Scorpio and firmly entrenched in my sexual prime! Ha-ha. However, at my stage in life, I have learned to appreciate the difference between ‘smiling funny’ and ‘walking funny’. I would much rather do the former.

Ladies, let’s be truthful here, shall we? Do you really, truly enjoy being treated like a pretzel; forced into ridiculous positions that simply seem designed to mask the fact that he’s really not doing the right thing? I mean, how many times have we been bent into positions while he pounds away and ALL you can think about is maintaining this ridiculous pose? Where the fuck is the fun in that?!? How the heck can there be pleasure when you’re concentrating on keeping one ankle locked behind your head, while he demands that you do what with your what?!?!?

Sigh. Men, ask us. Seriously, ask us what we like. I am willing to bet money that what you thought you knew, you don’t; and more importantly, what you thought you were doing, you weren’t. Again, don’t misunderstand; there are times, many times that we girls want, shit, need to get good and nasty! Times when we would like to show you exactly how unladylike we can be and that we too know the meaning of “freak”. Indeed. There are many days when many of us are convinced we were the muse in Beyonce’s ‘Drunk in Love’; or hell, ‘Partition’!

I’m heading into trouble here; but all in an interest of better understanding. But, before I go further, let me state that “these views are not necessarily those of all subscribers” J ; but they are undoubtedly mine! A man who needs to flip his woman all over the bedroom, keep changing positions every two minutes and refuses to pay attention to the sounds of pleasure she emits when he has finally lucked upon a sweet-spot, is displaying nothing more than his inadequacies. Sorry. There truly is no need to employ all those shenanigans if you are confident in your knowledge of her body and competent in pleasing her. Speaking only for myself…what the hell, speaking for a lot of women, we would prefer you to “spend some time” doing that thing that makes us arch our backs and moan from deep down there, and don’t stop until we beg you to; than your thinking “okay, next position”!

Guys, think about this: in sports (the other thing you care about), if you win a game wearing your red jersey, black shorts and Flintstones underwear, you convince yourselves that they are now your “lucky” combination and wear that same trio for your entire season. You may go so far as to not even wash it (or yourselves). The moral of this nasty little ditty is to highlight this one salient point: You do it = You score = You win = You keep on doing it. Sometimes, consider our bodies similarly: you do it = you keep on doing it = you score = everybody wins!!!

Listen, I know that sometimes (maybe most times) you men prefer that ‘other’ act to its sweeter, gentler, more emotional counterpart, making-love; I get it. Frankly, at times, so do I. But here’s a newsflash – that ‘other’ thing does not necessarily have to include my putting my entire body weight (and yours) on my scrawny neck, with my ass…well, you know. Because here’s the reality lover-boy, I guarantee you that ALL I am thinking about is how to avoid snapping said neck or anticipating the embarrassing stiff one (no pun intended) I will be forced to endure for the next few days; neither prospect fun. Nor am I thinking about you and all the ‘work’ you think you’re putting in! However, if you are comfortable with little mental interaction from this coupling, I guess my body is as good as any…

Then, there’s the ridiculousness of, while you’re treating this as a clumsy, non-qualifying Olympic sport, you’re punctuating your moves with the demand, “cum for me!”. What?!? How? And more importantly, why?? Ladies, doesn’t that truly beg the response, “make me”!!!! No, seriously, make me! When in all that static movement did you think you were hitting anything important? And, on the off-chance you did a time or two, chances are when you flipped me to my next position, you flipped off that switch! Yup!! Okay, speaking of switches, let’s discuss electricity. To work, electricity needs continuous current; if the flow of current is interrupted, try as you might, nothing happens. Boy, am I hoping you’ve just gotten an ‘aha” moment.

I’m bringing this home (and I swear I’m still in the same position) – I’ve had all kinds of sex in my lifetime; the kind I enjoy the most, the kind that makes me smile funny, the kind that I wanna brag to my girls about, the kind that keeps me opening my door and my, well, you know, for you, will only be the kind that shows me you’re listening to my body, you’re correctly interpreting my noises, you rely on our ‘music’ to dictate our movements and you refrain from thinking I am a freaking gymnast!

Oh….and I thoroughly enjoy the kind that I do to you 😉