“Fuck the shit out of me” has never been a phrase I’m excited to hear during sex. Especially considering the fact that I’m a gay man. Fellas, your shit needs to stay where it belongs during our time together. I’m only interested in scat if it consists of shoo-doo-shoo-bee-ooo’s coming out of Della Reese’s mouth. (Seriously, didn’t anyone see her on That’s So Raven?) When a power bottom ruined a recent sexual rendezvous after he uttered the aftermentioned phrase, I decided that it would be helpful to have a list of “Sexual Don’ts” for new partners to review before we “Do.” Said list follows for your reference.
1. Playing Joe’s “I Wanna Know.” It’s 2012 in case you lost track of time.
2. Sticking your tongue deep inside of your partner’s ear. You are not going to recreate that scene from Dance Flick so stop trying.
3. Wearing socks. Who needs all of that extra friction? This only time this is acceptable (and actually preferred) is if your partner has French tip toenails.
4. Asking your partner if they “like that” and only expecting a positive answer. One day you’ll run across someone who says “no” instead of “oh yeah, baby,” and then what are you going to do? (Hint: You’ll stop what you’re doing.)
5. Expecting to fall asleep in your partner’s arms. You know damn well that gets uncomfortable after about 20 minutes.
6. Deep-throating. Yes it’s impressive to see that you’re capable of swallowing an entire Morning Star sausage link, but it doesn’t feel all that great.
7. Trying to suck milk out of their nipples. For men, it’s not going to happen. For women, just ew.
8. Attempting to take off your partner’s skinny jeans. Unless you’re a pro at peeling potatoes, you’re only going to end up with a bunched up mess.
9. Burning scented candles. I know that Yankee Candle’s Christmas Cookie smells amazing, but it’s a distraction. Scents evoke memories. Christmas cookies equate with grandma. Grandma during sex leads to an unfortunate spunk trumpet problem.
10. Laying down towels. Just wash the damn sheets. Seeing a Martha Stewart or Main Stays label is just as bad as thinking about grandma. Mood killer.
Of course I can’t speak for everyone, so put on the My Name Is Joe album, spread out your nicest Egyptian cotton and go to town.