How To Be Good In Bed
Be present. Be calm. If necessary, be wasted.
Go into every sexual experience thinking that you’ve been doing it all wrong and that your new partner is going to teach you something new about lovemaking. Something your past lovers have kept secret from you for some reason or another.
Think about the most disgusting thing you could do to them and then do it. Make out with their armpit. Even if you’re not into armpits, your partner will be so proud of you for doing something so gross that they’ll get aroused. Get specs of their deodorant in your teeth and think to yourself, “This is sex. This is all that it really is: getting someone’s deodorant in your teeth and then having to be all “whatevs” about it because you’re both naked and vulnerable and no one is allowed to stop things.”
Think of a safe word. Like, avian bird flu. Neglect to tell your partner about it.
Have them get on top of you because, well, you’re tired and just sort of want to take a five minute break. As they close in for a kiss, grab their body and give them a surprise hug. Your partner will be shocked by this sudden intimacy and wish you could just go back to tonguing their armpit because that felt less intense somehow. You’ll feel their neck stiffen as you cling to them and you’ll resent them for it. “You’d rather me bathe in your B.O. than hold you tight? Everybody is fucked.” (The best sex always needs a hint of anger and resentment like this. Trust me. 10% of you should always be hating them.)
Your partner gently gets out of your death grip and you sigh dramatically because that means your five minute break is over. Time to start doing stuff again!
Study the way your partner is moving. Is it like a sex panther? Their hips keep swishing around in a way that indicates they’ve been around the block. Yes, it’s clear. You are sleeping with someone who has lots of sex. This all feels very rehearsed. You’re over here doing some indie movie improv bullshit and they’re over there reciting their lines like they’re in a Michael Bay movie. Ugh.
Tell them that you’re going to make them cum because people love a play-by-play of what’s being done to them at the moment. Narrate the entire experience like you’re Morgan Freeman and their body is a documentary about space. “And here I am kissing your stomach while gently caressing your balls. You THINK I’m going to give you head but I’m not. Not yet anyway. I need to to build the suspense.”
Circle the dick for five minutes. It’s laying there like a dog carrying a chew toy, desperate for you to play with it, but for right now you’re having fun ignoring it. Finally go in for the plunge. “And right now, in case you didn’t know, I’m sucking your dick. And I guess I’m kind of enjoying it. IDK. To be honest, I kind of feel like I’m phoning this blowjob in.”
Your partner LOVES this information. It gets him even more excited.
“And right now I’m thinking about when the fuck you’re ever going to cum so I can eat some Drunken Thai Noodles and go to bed.”
YEAH BABE YEAH BABE OMG WHAT THE HELL.
“And, like, I don’t even WANT to be sucking your dick right now but I’m doing it because I’m a good person.”
TELL ME MORE.
“No, I don’t want to. Do you know how hard it is to talk with a dick in your mouth? You are so rude.”
“Your dick feels like a salamander.”
“Avian bird flu.”
Abort the blowjob. Just kill it. Run around the house screaming “AVIAN BIRD FLU” and then sit down on the toilet and close the door. Your partner will be really confused as to why you’ve just blueballed them but they won’t hate you for it. They can only hate you after they’ve cum.
That’s the secret to good sex and keeping someone around. Never finish anything. Because they only leave you once they’ve cum. They can only hurt you once they’ve gotten what they want.
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Will it feel the same when you tell me you love me over the phone? Will the peacefulness of those words still floor me from thousands of miles away?
I was conflicted. It felt like one eye was trying to look away while the other soaked it up. I felt the heat rise in my face. This was wrong. But it didn’t feel wrong.
Any nervous flyer knows the progression of descending panic: bile, sweaty palms, social awkwardness and self-induced sedation.
I know how it feels when the weight of darkness crashes down onto your chest in the middle of the night, and how you wish things would stop spinning because the axis seems tilted now. I know, love, I know.