Major Faux Pas In The Boudouir

We’ve all heard that calling out the wrong person’s name during Sexy Time is a major faux pas in the boudoir, and we’ve probably even made stupid jokes about it more than once, but that’s not the only boudoir faux pas there is, Toy with Mes.  There are lots of them!

First up, we have The Gas.  The Mister and I are actually pretty lucky in this department because neither of us have any flatulence problems, but some folks are not quite so blessed and so farting during Sexy Time is a real problem for them, and–dare I say–not sexy.  On a related note, I don’t think I have to mention that no matter how tempting it might be, it is totally unacceptable to Dutch Oven your partner.  Never do that.  Never. You will find yourself jerking off in the basement like a troll in no time.

Some people take extreme measures to avoid this awkward and unsexy problem.  Take my friend Amy, for example.  She tells a famous story we’ve all come to know as “The Clench Story.”  When she was in college she had a super crush on the guy who lived across the hall.  One day, things became a little more than neighborly between them and she found herself making Sexy Time with him, but unfortunately, this all went down at the same time as her lunch from Taco Bell decided to make announcements. Horrified that she might fire one off and gross out her new friend, she rolled him over, jumped on top of him and proceeded to clench as hard as she could to stifle her Taco Bell.  She rode him extra hard to make him finish faster and clear the way for her escape.  Once successful, she jumped off of him and ran away, shouting “sorry!  There’s something I really need to do!” over her shoulder and retreated to the safety of her apartment.

When she saw him the next day, he said it was the best sex he ever had and asked her how she gets to be so tight.  I guess there are some bennies to having one on deck during the deed?

I love this next faux pas because it can really put a lady on the ceiling, and not in a good way, you guys.  The only thing I’ve ever heard it called is “switching gears” and it happens when your lovah thinks he’s putting it in one hole, when really, it’s in the other hole. If my husband is like most other guys, then it’s always an “accident,” but I’m gonna call bullshit on that one.  I, for one, am not fooled by this feeble bid for bum play.  You have to work up to that sort of thing, ya know?  You can’t just go putting your dick in the pudding whenever you feel like it, people.  I warm up before yoga too.  It’s the same thing.

This next thing is a little something we like to call “The Uterus Poker” around here, and it too can have a girl on the ceiling in a bad way.  The Uterus Poker occurs when the Mister penetrates the Missus a little too deeply and winds up trying to break on through to the other side of her cervix.  This happens to us from time to time and it’s never really fun for me.  It kind of leaves me wondering what woman really wants a guy with a monsterously long piece because really?  It’s not for me and my cervix, that’s for sure.

One thing that always made me a sad kitten in my dating years was when my “boyfriend” would unceremoniously land his plane, roll over with his back to me, and fall asleep.  Nothing makes a girl feel more used up than that bullshit, let me tell you.  My husband never does that and that is partly why he is my husband.  I don’t want to feel like a two dollar whore, even if I’ve just behaved like one.

For the love of all that is decent in this world, take your fucking socks off, okay?

And this one should be obvious, but some people need to be told that nobody likes a big, giant, hairy bush, so please beat back the jungle.  Okay, well, some people DO like a giant hairy bush, but if you happen to be sleeping with somebody who doesn’t, a little clip and trim is in order.  This is for both girls and boys.  If you fellas want us to dribble your balls, we have to be able to find them in the bushes, dig? I like a clean playing field for no other reason than to keep those coarse curly fuckers out of the back of my throat. Gah!

Plus, for the guys, a nice tight trim can make Junior look even more proud and impressive. Never a bad thing!

And for the love of God, No debriefing after the mission! I don’t want to discuss the minute details of the play-by-play. I DEFINITELY don’t want to high-five for a job well done, and for fuck’s sake DON’T THANK ME.

No voluntary interruptions. By this I mean answering the phone, or the cell phone, or texting, or whatever. We’re not going for a six hour kama sutra experience here–you’ll be done in a few minutes. The rest of the world can wait.

Please don’t make a big deal out of a lack of hard-on. There’s no better way to make sure it’s banished for good than to make a thing out of it. The best course of action here is to be cool and go do something else for a while. If you act like it’s nothing, maybe the little soldier will come to attention a little later on. Even penises have lazy days, you know.

This is all I have so far and now I’m gonna leave it up to you Toy with Mes to fill in what I’ve left out. I can’t wait to see what you guys come up with!

GO!

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About the Author

Crissy,a lifelong Rhode Islander, is 35 and has two little girls. Aside from doing a little bit of writing here and there, she doesn’t use a shred of her MA in English. She writes a blog where she is Queen of *&%$#@* Everything and reigns over her readers, whom she calls Queefs, with a loving but firm hand. In both 2008 and 2009 Crissy won the Blogger’s Choice Award for Hottest Mommy Blogger. In 2010, Crissy was chosen as one of Blogher's voices of the year.