A Note About Winter Sex

I have some very serious issues I’d like to blog about, but I’m having trouble typing. Why? Because winter is finally setting in on the great city of New York, and I am in the midst of a something’s-wrong-with-the-gas crisis in my building. Although the landlord took the time to tell us that there might be a gas leak and that we were perfectly safe but asked not to use candles or incense until the location of the leak had been detected, he did not mention that he would be turning off the heat until further notice. I have been sitting in my thickest sweats and socks, under a blanket, for most of the day, drinking tea and shivering. I have been wanting to have sex, since my male partner is here and we don’t get the opportunity to rip off our clothes and indulge ourselves very often these days. I was even thinking I’d work in some new sex toys/lube/something so I could give this blog its very first fantastic sex product review this weekend!

But it can’t be more than 55 degrees in my damn apartment. Who wants to have sex when they can’t stop shivering! We tried in-bed sex last night, and it was nice and all, but when you have to keep the covers up or risk contracting hypothermia, you just can’t get into the same positions or calisthenic configurations you’d like to. It ends up being “nice” sex, but never “great” sex. And I’d really like to have some “great” sex. There’s always the option of shower sex, too, which is guaranteed to be nice and warm and slightly more position-change-friendly than in-bed sex, but there’s always the risk of slipping and falling, and maintaining the right sort of lubrication can be difficult. Plus, sooner or later the water always gets too hot and you have to either stop, turn around, change the setting, and try to get back into it after your ass has been scalded, or you have to get out of the shower to finish and then you’re back to square-freezing-one.

I’m pretty annoyed. But it’s made me think more about sex locations, and that’s interesting because, after pondering my options here, I’ve realized I almost never have sex in bed. It happens, obviously, from time to time, but since I got my own apartment I’d say the sex-in-bed to sex-elsewhere ratio is easily a 1:8. I mean, the bed is nice and all, but it’s so uniform. You can bend over the side of it or kneel on it, or come up with any number of positions on it, but why do that when, just on the other side of the bedroom door, there’s a whole world of couches, chairs, ottomans, coffee tables, rugs, wood floors, kitchen tables, countertops, and radiators to be sat upon, bent over, leaned up against, crushed into, and generally copulated upon? Why stick to that one surface when you could venereally violate so many?

I guess I could look at this ridiculously cold weekend as an excuse to have bed-sex, and maybe see it as more of an exotic, rarely-tried experience than a boring one. After all, since I do most of my fucking in the living room/kitchen area, I guess the bed is something new-ish and different-like. But. It’s so expected, so trite. And even though it’s got a comforter and sheets and fleece, it’s still frickin’ freezing in there until you’ve gotten yourself all comfortable, at which point sleeping just seems like so much more logical a choice…

Anyway, this is a long explanation for my complete lack of anything interesting or porn-y to say today, but it’s at least brought on some reflection about my sex tendencies. Hopefully my partner and I will battle valiantly on and try some of those toys regardless of the chill, and I’ll have a product review for you soon. But no promises!

Check back tomorrow; you’ll get a full report of… SOMETHING.

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