I’m not very good at foreplay. In fact, on the scale of ‘things I am incredibly bad at’ it ranks below even running, remembering birthdays, and ‘not eating the second half of an open tube of Pringles.’
But, as with most sexual things, I’m willing to learn. After recently being berated for the fact that my seduction technique often involves me stripping to my pants in the bedroom and shouting ‘DO YOU WANT SEX?’ so loud that he can hear it from the kitchen, I am working on getting better at it.
Touching, hinting, saying sexy things: you know the drill.
Here’s how my foreplay lessons are going…
The art of foreplay
ME: Do you want to fuck?
HIM: Well, I might do. But when you ask me so directly, it doesn’t exactly make my dick twitch.
ME: Why not?
HIM: Because I’m halfway through a sandwich, and the Walking Dead is on.
ME: OK. I get it. So I should wait until you’ve got a boner?
HIM: No. Just, you know, get me to want it. Touch me.
*I grab his dick*
HIM: Not like that. Stroke my thigh or something.
*I stroke his thigh*
HIM: Not NOW. You’ve ruined it now. Later.
Time passes. Days pass. Weeks. The lesson burrows its way into my mind until eventually, one later evening on that same sofa, I get an idea.
I start stroking his thigh.
He snuggles into me.
I move my hand up his thigh towards his cock, inner monologue working overtime to congratulate me on remembering this thing. In fact, so busy am I congratulating myself on it, that I forget why I was doing it and halfway through I wander off to the kitchen to make hot chocolate.
When I come back in, with two mugs of steaming and delicious hot chocolate, I snuggle back into him.
Time passes. Half an hour. An hour. It’s nearly bedtime and the last dribbles of chocolate have gone cold.
With a sudden lightning-bolt of realisation, I remember the task I’d set myself over two hours ago, and the way his dick – now flaccid and sleepy – had twitched in response to my softly stroking hand.
I let out a gasp and sit bolt upright on the sofa. He leaps out of his skin, and turns to me with a face that looks worried I’ve left the gas on.
ME: WE SHOULD HAVE SEX!