This heatwave has now got so bad that even I am starting to miss cuddles. I’m normally far too into the banging to care about the post-fuck snuggles but… it’s getting to me, you know? The lack of human contact caused by the fact that I can’t successfully touch another human without either sticking to them or bursting into flames. So here are a few alternatives to cuddling in a heatwave.
Cuddling in a heatwave: location, location, location
Before you even contemplate your alternatives to cuddling, first you must choose your location. For obvious reasons, the sofa is right out. If you try to cuddle on a leather sofa during a heatwave, your pores will immediately begin the kind of rapid sweat production that should only really happen during adolescence, and even then only if you’re waiting outside the headteacher’s office. Should cuddler and cuddlee manage to stay on the leather sofa for more than 2 minutes without falling off, you’ll both soon forget which of you is which, as your sweaty limbs entangle like a pair of cuttlefish trying to fuck in a bucket.
And though I am normally a fan of fabric sofas, the indulgent comfort that is so fun to snuggle on in winter is absolute torture during a heatwave. Cuddling in the heat is a ridiculous prospect to start off with: cuddling on a piece of furniture specifically designed to be ‘warm’ is just showing off. Why not run a marathon while you’re at it? While wrapped in a sleeping bag and drinking chili sauce?
Perhaps bed, then? Good fucking luck! Your bed is also covered in soft, comfy fabrics designed to keep the warmth close to your skin. And when the thermostat’s tipped 33 degrees, the only thing I want this close to my skin is a life-sized ice sculpture of Dwayne ‘the Rock’ Johnson. Don’t judge: he soothes me.
Cuddling in a heatwave is even harder than fucking
Whenever I tweet or blog about fucking during this heatwave, I get a mixed reaction. Some people are impressed with my dedication to sweaty humping, others think I have made Very Poor Life Decisions and I should retreat to the nearest paddling pool to cool off and think about what I’ve done.
But sex during a heatwave is much easier for me than anything involving affection. It’s time-limited, so you know that at some point one or both of you will either spaff themselves or declare the humping ‘over.’ And if we’re honest with our pervy selves, there are sex activities you can do that are either cooler-by-design or just involve little to no actual embracing: a doggy-style shag, mirror wanking, underwater blow job in a swimming pool, that kind of thing. Can you manage the same thing with a cuddle? Fuck no.
So what do you do? You need to experiment with new ways of showing affection in a heatwave. Ways that do not involve cuddles, sofas or beds. Here are a few of my faves.
1. The ‘fuck this’ moan-and-grope
One of the most difficult transitions to deal with during a heatwave is the homecoming. You’ve been out all day (or all night – it literally makes no difference when you come home because everything is oven-temperature death, 24 hours a day) and you’re used to being greeted with a kiss and a cuddle, to remind you of the love you missed while you were out getting tanked in a Wetherspoons.
Enter the house, remove your top and bra, then lie on the floor next to your partner in front of a fan. Whine “Hooooooootttttt” a few times, while sweating, until he shuts you up by laying one single, sweaty hand on one of your tits.
2. The ‘do not touch me with your literal hands, you loveable yet temporarily repulsive heat source’
Lie on the floor again. I’ll be honest, all of these are going to start with ‘lie on the floor.’ Bonus points if you have a kitchen or bathroom with deliciously cool tiles or a polished concrete floor. Double bonus points if you can tell me whether someone’s yet invented the opposite of ‘underfloor heating.’
So you lie on the floor, and wave your hands vaguely towards the ice-cold bottle of water your partner’s just taken from the fridge. Lift your top up lazily, as if the very effort involved in doing so is worthy of a medal in itself. Moan “hoooooottttt” repeatedly until they pick up the bottle of water and use it to trace breathtakingly refreshing circles with the base of the icy bottle around each of your eager nipples.
3. The dick… fumble
I’m sorry, my love, but every single inch of you is hot. So if I’m honest, although I really love dick, I probably don’t want to touch a whole one.
Instead what I’ll do is sit on the floor (Yes, the floor. I live here now), pull off my socks, point to your crotch, and when you unpeel the sticky outer layers of your trousers and pants, I’ll nudge your cock with the ball of my foot and just… sort of… massage it for a while. Feeling the transition of soft-to-hard, and imagine what I’d do with it if I could be bothered to move closer. It’s not really a cuddle so much as a fumble, but it does the job: allowing a brief moment of physical intimacy while leaving both hands free to hold ice cold cans of Coke.
4. Literal words. Just words. Words are the only thing I can give you from here on the floor where it’s colder
I will look into your eyes with deep meaning, but mostly just because your eyes are blue and blue reminds me of cold, cold water and raspberry-flavoured ice pops. When I stare at you I will see the beads of sweat collecting on your forehead and remember just how much I used to love licking those off. But that was Before. In the Past. When rain was more than a distant memory and I wanted you close to me.
Now the closest I want to be to you still leaves me on the other side of the room. So instead of cuddling in a heatwave, like heroic but misguided fools, let’s sit and stare at each other, blowing kisses to show we still care. Let’s conjure daydreams about sprinklers and thunderstorms, and tell stories about ice-cream sundaes and snowball fights from our youth.
And then let’s not hold hands.