Back in my rookie days of sleeping around, I often struggled with how to handle the post-game festivities. Was it time to cuddle? Talk? Sleep? Leave? It all depended on the woman, and what sort of mood I created. If I got her to the edge of orgasm, then sprayed her back like I was watering roses, chances are she wanted nothing more than to chop me in the throat.
Well, I found (through trial and ex-girlfriend) that humor was the best sex-press conference. As she lies there hoping my condom didn’t slip off and wedge itself somewhere near her spleen, I’d lob something cute and witty.
“Wow. I think I need fluids. Could you pass me a Gatorade?”
All right. Cuteness is subjective.
I make an effort, at least. I don’t deliver the usual, such as:
- “That was great.”
- “You’re amazing.”
- “Can we do this again soon?”
- “I really like you. Do you like me too?”
- “Shall I fetch a towel?”
I also know better than to let any of the following witticisms escape my salty lips:
- “What’s that smell?”
- “Do you take AMEX?”
- “Be a sweetie, and pass me the remote.”
- “Well, that didn’t suck.”
- “You’re a much better lay than your sister.”
I’ve heard there are men who like to recap the entire activity. This makes me cringe. I know communication is an important part of any long-term relationship, but aren’t there non-verbal ways? If you grab an ice-pack, and slap in on your sore princess, while letting out a blissful sigh, I get it. If you turn on your Flashlight app while I’m going down on you, point well-taken. If you elbow me in the temple while spooning, I’ll aim a little lower.
But, if you need post-coital discussion, stick to neutral subjects. No politics, religion, or sports. You can discuss any of the following, safely:
- The breakfast menu.
- What the fuck is going on in Game of Thrones this season?
- Does Uber come to this neighborhood?
- Should weed be legalized in California?
- The oddest place you’ve ever done it.
Another idea would be a quick game of Checkers. If there’s a TV close by, you can flip on the evening news (not Dancing with the ’tards). A better choice would be anything on Comedy Central. Don’t read a newspaper. No playing Candy Crush. You should also resist the urge to clip toenails or pluck eyebrows. How about moisturizing? Squirt a dollop of Ponds into his palm, and have him get that mid-back spot you can’t reach. Now, there’s a fine solution.
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