How brilliant is sex as a form of exercise? I’ve always been sceptical of cheesy articles that claim you can burn off your Christmas dinner with a little bit of sexercise. The claim is ridiculous for obvious reasons: not only does every couple have different sexual preferences, but even in a couple your tastes change from week to week depending on your mood. Sure, you might burn 300 calories with one particularly rigorous shag, but if the next night involves a quickie in which you lie back and think of England while your partner (or partners) put in all the work, you’re unlikely to have burnt off so much as a sprout or two.
Still, there are interesting things to be learnt from these studies, and here’s one of them:
In a recent study, using 21 heterosexual couples, the average shag duration was twenty five minutes.
While I am confident that my own sexual experience is in no way indicative of the whole of the heterosexual adult population, the revelation that the average shag lasts for almost an entire episode of Red Dwarf had me gobsmacked.
I mean, twenty-five minutes. I feel utterly ashamed that I’ve been letting my partners down so badly over the years with puny 5-minute quickies or equally disappointing drawn-out sessions that barely get us from one Xfactor ad break to the next. Perhaps it’s my penchant for efficiency, but as far as I’m concerned if something’s worth doing, it’s worth rushing through quickly so as to pack as much pleasure into as short a space of time as possible.
That’s not to say I never have good, long fucks. Occasionally I’ll have sessions that have lasted hours, albeit with occasional breaks for a bit of spanking or some gentle mutual masturbation while we think of a new position. All I’m saying is that on average – average – I suspect most of my shags last about five minutes.
Anyway. Enough of my shock. If you are one of those who can hump solidly and excitedly for a full twenty-five minutes, I salute you, and am in awe of your sexy prowess. If, on the other hand, you are like me, and your average sexual escapade can be done and dusted in the time it takes to microwave a ready meal, here’s a comparison which will hopefully make you feel less inadequate when compared to the ‘average’ twenty-five minuters.
Feel free to add your own comparisons in the comments.
Sexercise – him driving
This includes doggy, leaning up against a wall, bent over the coffee table – all the usual favourites. But essentially anything in which I am taking part but not the one who sets the rhythm. The bowman to his cox, if you will.
Duration: five minutes.
Calories burned: roughly the same as holding a mildly challenging yoga pose while panting like a dog in a sauna.
Sexercise – me driving
This tends to take longer than other types of sex, so gets its own entry. I think it takes longer because I have to occasionally stop or slow down to delay my own orgasm (post-orgasm my legs stop working, and make the whole thing far too difficult), but it’s possible that I am just incredibly bad at it.
Duration: ten minutes.
Calories burned: the equivalent of navigating a medium-sized Tesco metro on a spacehopper.
OK, it’s not exactly a marathon, but I’m sure you burn more calories sucking cock than sitting on the sofa, so it counts a bit. For this example I’m using proactive blowjobs, in which the guy’s sitting/lying down and I am working around him using hands/lips/tongue. I don’t do that thing where you push the cock sideways into your cheeks, though. As far as I’m aware, that move has been copyrighted by porn.
Duration: five-ten minutes.
Calories burned: about as many as you’d burn during a hot-dog swallowing contest, if the total hot-dogs consumed had the same calorific value as a teaspoonful of spaff.
I wish I was great at hand jobs. I wish I could skillfully and dexterously do things to a guy’s cock that he’d never even thought of before, leaving him trembling and panting after a jizz-explosion so good it almost counts as pyrotechnic. I’d like to, but I can’t. As I grit my teeth, desperate to please but fully aware that I’ll only ever be 20% as good as he is at doing this, eventually my hand gets tired and I usually switch back to ‘blow job’ mode.
Duration: three minutes, if I’m doing really well.
Calories burned: the equivalent to shaking medium-viscosity tarmac out of a Heinz ketchup bottle.
The classic, the staple, the laziest way to reach orgasm. Unlike those of you who might have more imagination than I do, I don’t tend to treat myself with lingering bathtime wanks or extended sessions with multiple toys, so provided I haven’t over-indulged earlier in the day, masturbation is phenomenally quick.
Duration: one minute.
Calories burned: same as erasing three lines of pencilled notes in your average moleskine notebook.