TT’s Nicole (no, she’s not real. Yes, she’s a mix of all of your trusty TT writers) ditches the kama sutra and goes back to basics
Sex. There’s so much that it’s meant to be in your twenties. You’re meant to be doing it often, and well, and with monstrously endowed partners who’ll reciprocate your own efforts with hours of multiple orgasm-inducing fun.
The fact is, sex in your twenties is subject to the same idiotic embellishment as anything else. But we go along with it, strengthening the lies in our pseudo-honest wine-fuelled girly chats. Take positions, for example. There’s an implication that if you’re a sexually active young woman, you’ll naturally give a Russian acrobat a run for her money with the ways you’ll twist your body to chase that orgasmic high. If you’re doing it missionary, you’re boring, prematurely middle-aged and unimaginative. Missionary is for dull, probably religious couples who are too scared to be unconventional.
Missionary is great.
Ok, look – I’m just sick of sex being used as representative of other things. As long as what you’re doing is enjoyable for you both, who cares what form it takes? Having missionary-style sex is no more an indication of how interesting you are than your choice in cheese. It’s entirely inconsequential. Cheddar, for example, may be the missionary of the cheese world, but it’s still brilliant.
The worst thing, worse than competing with your mates in the unusual places (location and, well, bodily) you’ve had sex, is the idea that if you enjoy sex, you definitely go on top. It’s what independent, non-prudish women do. It’s in a Beyonce song for god’s sake, that you should ride him like a pony (I think).
But god, it’s a lot of bloody effort. Clamber on, wiggle around, heave your chest up and down like Lola flipping Ferrari. Inadvertantly crush your lover because you’ve eaten too much for dinner. Feel the burning onset of yet another case of cystitis.
Ok, maybe that’s just me. But sex is so clearly different for everybody that these sweeping generalisations don’t help our neuroticism when it comes to a bit of jiggery-pokery. This over-sharing has led to a culture of unhealthy sex competition where nobody wins. Maybe if we took the pressure off a bit, we could concentrate on finding out what we actually enjoy – and those multiple orgasms, too.
