Things Not To Say During Sex
Unless you want the Mojave Desert in her nether regions
Guys, when it comes to banter and sex, less = more. And is there really ever too much sex - raise your hand if you do think? As I gaze out onto my all-male audience, I don’t see a single hand raised. Not one. My advice could not be more clear: shut the fuck up and focus on business. Do not talk. Women desire the “strong silent types” – that’s why those men are the love interests in every single romance novel. And though you might not read that shit, women do.
Keep in mind that when you’re in the throes of passion, really stupid shit is going to come out of your mouth. You can’t help it. So BEFORE you start unpacking your junk, tell yourself, “Shut up, you idiot,” and let that be your mantra.
Women are not interested in hearing your opinion on anything during sex.
Documented Shit Men Have Said During Sex:
• “My wife really liked it when I did that.”
• “Whoa! That’s a lot of orgasms!”
• “Ready or not, here I cum!”
• “Dude is going downtown. Can I get you anything?”
• “I voted for Trump, how about you?”
• “Can I touch your belly button?”
• “I’m about to put a snake in your boots.”
• “My best trick… making my magic wand disappear.”
• “No, I felt it, for sure!” - he says after you mention you’ve not yet had an orgasm.
• “What’s the matter? You can’t think of anyone else either?”
• “You feel so squishy!”
• “I’m not usually attracted to larger women.”
• “The ballgame starts in 15 minutes.”
• “This has never happened before,” – he said after he couldn’t get it up.
• “This is what worked best for me with my last girlfriend.”
• “Your breasts are so small, but I just need a mouthful.”
• “Just a sec, I’ve got to check my text message.”
• “I love your full, round hips.”
• “That was great! I’ve got to show my wife how to do that.”
• “Holy smokes! You are a sex maniac!”
• “Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.”
Even SHAKESPEARE, a man, said stupid shit:
• “I do desire we may be better strangers”
• “More of your conversation would infect my brain.”
• “This woman’s an easy glove, my lord, she goes off and on at pleasure.”
• “Thou art as fat as butter.”
• “Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat.”
I can understand why some guys blurt this shit out during and before sex. Somewhere in their reptilian brains they imagine this to be flirtatious sex talk. Sadly the lizard isn’t grasping the underlying message: “I love your full, round hips” = “I love your big, fat ass,” - this is the message most women hear. Think of it this way guys… if your gal purred, “I love how your short penis leaves me longing for more,” that would make you take pause (or quickly zip up your trousers) – am I right?
Let’s say you really cannot keep your mouth shut in the bedroom, BUT you’re willing to practice your sexual banter. Sexy talk can be hugely arousing, if done properly. Here are some examples of things you might say that, omg, are going to do the trick:
💋 “How does this feel?” 💋 “Don't stop doing that!” 💋 “I love your ______!” 💋 “You feel so good.” 💋 “Where do you want it?” 💋 “You taste so good!” 💋 “I can't wait to f--- you!"💋
There are even MASTERCLASSES for Dirty Talk. With certified instructors. Imagine including “Sex and Communication” to your skill set on LinkedIn as well as adding MasterClass.com to your list of educational institutions (with an emphasis on “Sex Talk”).
DON JON - a great film in which a clueless young man gets schooled in the ways of women by Julianne Moore. 🔥🔥🔥
Kinky Friedman is pretty funny. But so, according to Andrew Solow, son of the recently departed Nobel economist, Robert Solow, was Milton Friedman. At the very recent memorial for Solow, Andrew recounted a Solow visit to Friedman, then at Stanford, which was quite hilarious.
When he was still around, my father, gone now these last 22 years, would tell a story about how I, at age 2, had jumped into bed with Milton Friedman. My father, also an economist--Solow and his wife had hosted my parents' wedding--had said that Friedman had come to stay at our house in Seattle, following a rape on the University of Washington campus, ostensibly to protect my mother. In the story, my father would recount that after finding a strange man in my parents' bed, I'd beaten a hasty retreat back downstairs, and found my mother on the living room couch where she'd spent the night, and I'd said to her--and this was what my father had thought was so funny--"where's the other guy?!!"
It didn't occur to me to ask my father about this crazy story when he was still around.
So I tried to think of who might know something about this. I had my own doubts about the story. My parents were left wingers, and Friedman, of course, was a right winger. My mother was a tough character, and it was hard for me to imagine her putting up with a right winger.
Most of my parents' economist friends were gone by this time, but Robert Solow was still around. I told him the story, and asked him if he knew anything about it. "THAT'S PREPOSTEROUS!" said Solow, his voice dripping with amusement!
But when, after his death, I'd mentioned the story in a note of condolence, Kate Solow, daughter of Robert, said that her father had been friends with Friedman. But she didn't provide details. After hearing Andy's stories about the Solows' visit to Friedman, the answer to my conundrum was obvious. Friedman, going to Seattle early in his career, a place where he'd likely never been before, and likely didn't know anyone, had almost certainly asked Solow who he should look up in Seattle. And Solow would have given him my parents' info.
So, yes, I really did jump into bed with Milton Friedman. But no, I will never recount that story in the middle of a tryst!
Don't stop doing this!