Sunday, 15 July 2012

69 Positions in a One Night Stand (or "Schtup in the Name of Love").

We live in an age where sexual boundaries are blurred.
Most of us are too young to remember the swinging 60's or the sexually liberated 70's and yet sexual expression is all around us. It's on the TV, in the music we listen to and in every magazine we pick up.

I awoke sexually ( and trust me, that was a long sleep) and started looking around for my mojo during the 1990's, a time when sexual repression was as bad as the Victorian age. The 80's had caused such disco damage that it left a climate of fear about transmittable diseases that made me think If I slept with the wrong person my right arm would fall off.
It was a tough time to start blossoming because the sexual horizon was as parched as any landscape Bob Geldof would have wanted to raise money for. Forget about Band Aid, most of us were in dire need of sex aid(s).
I was so scared to kiss anyone that I seriously considered carrying around a pair of those fake lips that you get in Christmas Crackers. However, with a mouth as big as mine I was in serious danger of swallowing them every time someone even looked like they were going to come up and talk to me.
Now,with the help of injectable fillers, we can all have a pair of lips that look like they came out of a Christmas cracker, and there is no danger of swallowing them at all.
You can inflate your lips and deflate your hips at will. You can make yourself look as sexually viable as you want because showing more nowadays costs a whole lot less.
You can even buy a whole new set of kahunas on credit! Who cares if you can't keep up the payments and they need to be repossessed?
If it all goes tits up?
Well, that's exactly what you asked for.
Lets all look like blow up dolls that have just learned to blow a whole lot harder.

Sexual freedom is on the rise and the fear of disease or of consequences nine months later are not really in our mindset anymore. Once again it's time for free love, sowing your wild oats and throwing your knickers to the wind, and the reason for this is?
Home Testing Kits.
In the comfort of your own home you can now test yourself for Chlamydia, pregnancy, HIV (coming soon) and most other things that you're liable to catch when your inhibitions are down and your bra straps are hanging from the lamp shade.
But is it really something you want to share with a one night stand or a potential new partner?
Imagine if you met someone, took them home and then said "right, now we're going to play Dr's & Nurses and I'm just going to take a few swabs".
I'd be out of the door with my trousers around my ankles at the first sign of a rubber glove.
I've always been terrible with exams so I'd hate to think I'd passed and then find out six months later that I've got to have my tubes tied and wear a "NO ENTRY" sign around my neck, and whatever you do, do not buy a pregnancy test from the pound shop - especially if they are on a "two for one" special offer.
You'll get a negative result and then nine months later wake up with twins.

My feelings about casual sex are largely up and down, much like the underwear of people who have casual sex. The thought of it is exciting but most times I have the dream I can't follow through with the drive. If it's available and the moment is right then I'll take it but mostly my timing is off.
I sometimes look at people on the street and imagine them with no clothes on but when I really start to think of the ins and outs of it, I can't be bothered. There are other times I look at people on the street and imagine them with no clothes on and I find myself pointing and laughing, sometimes I even throw stones at them . . . and that's probably why I'm single.
Casual sex for me means going on a date in a pair of chino's and a cardigan and not washing my hair.
S&M sex means stroppy and mental - you get stroppy and I'll go mental. The last place I'm going to be told what to do is in the bedroom.
Outdoor sex means leaving my back doors open.
Phone sex for me means changing providers every couple of months. You ever had sex with an Orange?
And safe sex?
Well, safe sex just means no sex at all. 
There's nothing safer than saying no, even when all you want to say is YES, YES, YES!!! 

I've come to the conclusion that in 2012 everyone is swapping fluids again and following their libido.
The old, the young, gay, straight and the bisexual. My teenage niece was showing me photographs of her school prom and there was one picture of two girls on a date because "being bisexual is fashionable, everybody at (names school) is doing it".
Really? Is it on the school curriculum? What's the school moto?
"No Muff's too Tough?".
Am I now a fashion accessory too?
"Uncle Dan, I don't want a Mulberry purse for Christmas this year, can I walk around with you on my arm instead?"
 It seems to me that as long as it moves, it's open to having moves made upon it.

Maybe I'm passed my sexual peak? Who knows?
Jane Fonda said recently that at the age of 74 her sex life is the most fulfilling it has ever been and I'm wondering if that's echoing all over the world? Not necessarily what she said, but the actual act, if that's echoing, echoing, echoing?
I believe old people should be having sex, it gives them something to do and a reason to take their teeth out.
I also believe teenagers should be encouraged to go fiddle with themselves, it keeps them from looting and setting fire to things. It's my belief that If we'd have provided the disaffected youth with a copy of "Loaded" and a box of tissues rather than a balaclava and a can of petrol we wouldn't have had the summer riots last year.
I have no problem with wife swapping, swinging, shagging or schtupping.
I don't care if you're dogging, dingeing or mingeing.
Sexual shenanigans are common place, and it seems everybody is at it (except for me).

Just remember, in matters of sex you always get what you pay for . . .
Especially if you're paying for it.

1 comment:

  1. Excellent and useful article! Thanks for taking the time to post this.