Friday, August 17, 2012

the summer sexperiment.

1 formulate a question. is it possible to enjoy cosmo's summer sex tips with another human being without wanting to stab my motherfucking eyes out?

i was scrolling through cosmo's website friday while trying to come up with some sexy jokety jokes for this freelance piece i'm working on when i came across an article entitled, "how to have steamy summer sex." after squirming uncomfortably for a second at the thought of my oozing meatbag of a pre-corpse entangled in some sweat-soaked sheets i thought, "i'm trying these. COMEDY."

2 research.
i texted my handsome and manly lab partner: "hey, do you want to bang it out this weekend? i'm writing a comedy bit about how gross sex is in the summer and i have some tips i need to try. you can probably also put it in my butt." we made plans immediately for sunday. for me, this qualifies as adequate research. deciding that maybe that wasn't quite comprehensive enough, skimming the article, i called jeff and asked him whether or not he incorporated any seasonal sex tips to bring his "lust life to a boil."

"bitch, i am a GROWN FUCKING MAN. are you really calling me at work to ask me about this simple fucking bullshit? slow day at the zoo?!" one time, when i had been in the hospital for a week and a half and had an NG tube threaded up my nose and down the back of my throat and was hooked to an oxygen machine because i kept losing consciousness from the dilauded, jeff burst into my room in a panic, slamming into the wheelchair the PCT had left next to the door for my daily CT scan. if i hadn't been in an opiate-induced coma i might've been scared into a goddamned heart attack. he threw two garment bags at the foot of the hospital bed and grabbed the controller to prop me up. i motioned for the pitcher of ice chips. "later," he said, moving the table out of my desperate reach. "i have a date tonight, and i need you to tell me which suit to wear."

THIS MOTHERFUCKER RIGHT HERE. i reached for the remote with the call button and he snatched it away. "yeah right," he sneered. "no one can save you." jeff found my glasses and put them on my face, which is the worst feeling ever. spectacles askew, i tried vainly to remove the oxygen mask from my face as visions of my cobbled foot and reams of drugstore typing paper flashed through my mind. TAKE ME NOW, JESUS. between outfit changes the doctor came in to do his afternoon rounds. "nice suit, brother!" he exclaimed as jeff emerged from the bathroom for a second time, and they had a ten minute discussion about custom made men's suiting while i tried to shut the oxygen machine off and kill myself. was this really my life? was i really going to die while listening to two smug assholes swooning over a double-breasted lapel?! a single tear rolled from my right eye, only to get caught in the elastic of the mask. "help me," i whispered to no one in particular.

i was just about to remind him of all of the valuable time of mine that had been wasted when his voice cut through my reverie like a knife. "are you really just breathing on the other end of this line?! GET OFF MY PHONE!" he shouted. i hung up.

3 hypothesis.
attempting to incorporate these cosmopolitan's hot hints into a romantic interlude is going to leave me chafed and sweaty as fuck, plus i will probably hate them and only halfheartedly try.

4 sexyfunexperiment time!
HOT HINT 1: dress for the weather. t
o light up your guy’s libido, treat him to his very own wet tee shirt fantasy. put on a tissue-thin white tee or tank top and “accidentally” get wet (say, by getting sprayed by the garden hose) so that it clings alluringly to your body. wearing a damp top will not only cool you off, it’ll also drive him loco.

i wore a sheer tunic, probably the same one your mom wears when she has period bloat, and i spilled grape juice on it about thirty seconds into dinner. i glanced over to see if my guy's libido had lit up yet. NO DICE. twenty minutes later i awkwardly busted open one of those soy sauce packets that comes with takeout sushi and that shit squirted right on my tits. i rubbed it in, trying to create a sticky, salty wet fantasy treat. then i dropped some chicken chop suey on my pants. i posed alluringly, peeking to see if he'd been driven loco. "did you eat all the goddamned fortune cookies, sam?!" he demanded. I TOTALLY FUCKING HAD. i licked my shirt in defeat.

HOT HINT 2: turn off the AC. perspiration can have an invigorating effect on your sex life. sweating augments your own natural scent. “when you’re in love or even just in lust with somebody, there’s nothing more enticing than their smell, and the heat really amps it up,” says sexologist lisa douglass, coauthor of the sex you want.

"SEXOLOGIST?" for real, hooker?!

to tap into sweat’s seductive powers, let your bedroom’s temp get tropical, then send your man into a foreplay frenzy by massaging his body with your own.

after dinner and a dvd we went up to his laboratory. the door was closed and i heard no evidence of the groaning window unit, and i closed my eyes and pictured rubbing his palm tree with my coconuts. OPENING THAT DOOR WAS LIKE WALKING INTO SOMEONE ELSE'S YAWN. am i really supposed to have sex inside a dog's mouth?! i didn't even take my tunic/bib off. i walked around the bed and turned that air conditioner as high as it would fucking go, then stood in front of it with my arms raised. i wonder if foreplay frenzy is possible in a dirty chinese restaurant?

with that in mind, push your breasts hard up against your guy, rubbing them across his chest and then sliding down his body with your nipples grazing his torso. to intensify your touch, deliver some frisky nips to his neck, abdomen, and buns.

i pressed my breasts up hard against my guy, and he was like "your nipples are touching my ankles, dude. don't trip me." SIGH. i don't know how to "deliver a frisky nip," so i licked his balls instead and almost fainted under the motherfucking blanket. seriously, there was, like, sweat pooling in the small of my back. GAH, WHY IS SUMMER SO OPPRESSIVELY HOT? I TOTALLY HATE EVERYTHING. ps, the word buns is moist.

HOT HINT 4: blast your hot spots. the term cold shower may be a modern euphemism for “sex ain’t happening,” but icy spritzing on a small scale can actually prolong your pleasure. keep a spray bottle filled with ice water next to the bed, and give each other a strategic spritz to extend the encounter whenever things seem to be getting too hot. to trigger a more intense pleasure response, aim for the nerve-packed, thin-skinned areas on each other’s body, such as the nipples, the back of the neck, the inner thighs, the tailbone, or the backs of your knees.

i always try to keep a big bottle of water next to the bed because bitches be getting leg cramps in the night. but i forgot to bring the spray bottle i use to terrorize helen keller, and improvising this sort of thing is nearly impossible without a trip to the hardware store and shit. i could've put my bottle in the freezer and dripped ice water on his nipples, but how do you do that without dying of embarrassment first?!

HOT HINT 5: enjoy an arctic thrill. the perfect summer sex toy: a minty skin-tingling lube. “the unusual chilling sensation when your body is extra warm makes you hyperaware of your pleasure points, so the minute they’re touched, you feel an ultra-lusty rush,” says sex educator sari locker, author of the complete idiot’s guide to amazing sex. “the cooling sensation becomes more pronounced with each thrust, and it feels incredible on erogenous zones. it’s literally like your nerves are standing on end!”

the thought of cooling lube is scary to me. how do they make it cold? are those cancerous chemicals burning through my ladymeats? WHY IS SCIENCE SO FUCKING TERRIFYING?!

o indulge, pour a nickel-size amount into your palm. “then slowly spread the liquid over his penis, starting at the tip and working your way gradually down his shaft,” says locker. have him return the favor by smoothing some of the lube onto your privates.

i brought my own lube, this fancy kind made for ladies that is expensive as a motherfucker and doesn't cause gnarly yeast infections in your womanholes, and i handed the sex scientist the ziploc bag i'd packed it in. he held it upright under the light and watched the contents settle near the bottom. "not your first time using this one, hmm?" he asked suspiciously.


HOT HINT 6: feed the flames.
or some extremely tasty and tropics inspired sex, straddle him and move seductively as you feed each other popsicles or ripe summer fruit. “tasting that sticky sweetness while sexual pleasure charges through your bodies will really heighten your bliss,” says locker. “be sure to let your lips and bodies get all messy too, so you can ‘clean’ each other off with little licks and nibbles.”

looking down at his fresh white sheets i had two thoughts: 1 "popsicles and mango juice would fuck this bed UP," and 2 "man, i hate chinese food. i hope i don't shart during the night."

next, fire him up with an icy ambush. “start by sucking on a piece of ice and letting little droplets trickle onto his body,” says resnick. once your mouth is chilled, trace your tongue around his lips and then move in for a hard, wet ice-chip kiss. because his body is burning up and your mouth is refreshingly cold, your smooches will send shock waves through his system. “then switch and have him hold an ice chip in his teeth and use it to softly trace the curves of your body.” don’t worry, it won’t take long to melt…and neither will you.

i once let a dude put an ice cube inside my vagina and watch it melt, and that was totally fucking dumb. also, he started to bang me afterward and ran around screaming like a little girl because it hurt the tip of his penis. i thought about trying to hold some ice cubes between my painfully sore goddamned teeth which are now so sensitive to cold that i can't even have a conversation in an air-conditioned room without collapsing in a heap with my hand pressed to my fucking jaw. skipping this.

HOT HINT 7: hit the floor. if your summer sex session gets too steamy to bear (read: you’re panting like a couple of marathoners), take it to ground level and point a couple of fans toward you. “as the cool breeze plays over your sweat-soaked bodies and gently moves the little hairs on your skin, you’ll feel reinvigorated,” says locker. “the breeze will create a rush of new sensations that will add to the pleasure you’re feeling.” bonus: the novelty of switching your locale from in the sack to on the floor will also pump up your excitement level.

this reminds me that i waxed my pubes again, which is the only way i know how to say "thanks for not being totally fucking dumb" non-verbally. goddamn, this shit is itchy five days later. like, you-owe-me-a-steak itchy. this is why i play my sex game in the bush league, sister. i need a fucking benedryl. *scratches inconspicuously at crotch under desk* all week i've been asking people to ask me whether or not the carpet matches the drapes so i can giggle like a little girl and squeal, "no, i installed hardwood floors!" what a moron. also, i don't have sex on the floor. it takes me thirty-seven minutes to get up from a goddamned chair. bitch, i'm old.

HOT HINT 8: savor that post-O flush. when you finally collapse back onto the bed in a bliss coma…stay right where you are. don’t make a move for the AC. so lie back with your guy, close your eyes, and bask in the aftereffects of sultry summertime sex. just think: later on, you can have more of the same.

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING," i said as my lab partner started packing up his petrie dishes and bunsen burners before i'd finished recording my data. "YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO COLLAPSE IN A BLISS COMA BEFORE I GET MY SULTRY AFTEREFFECTS." then we did the "i'm not done but you are" negotiation dance:

me: "just stick two fingers in."
him: (asleep)
me: "it'll take five minutes, max. just bite me right here."
him: (asleep)
me: "wake up and put your tongue over there. please?"
him: (asleep)
me: "okay, i really only need two minutes of kissing. roll over."
him: (asleep)
me: "want to watch me stick my whole fist up my ass?"
him: (asleep)
me: coaxed him out of some hand action. BLISS COMA ACHIEVED.

5 analysis. i compared our results. him: satisfied of course because i'm awesome, me: sweaty. and my hypothesis was supported, even though i refused to try the majority of the suggested tips and we mostly just had sex the way we always do which is great and doesn't need any help from women who use words like "tantalizing" as if they are real.

6 conclusion. I AM ALWAYS FUCKING RIGHT. and right about fucking. duh.