Thursday, January 03, 2008

On Breaking the Sock Barrier

Just about everyone says that communication is crucial in a relationship. Heck, it's important in any relating context.

Relating in small groups, in big groups, one on one, professional relations, adversarial relations, cooperative relations, er ... sexual relations.

It seems like a good idea in the bedroom. Although, the most I generally contribute as far as communication is: "Ow, you're on my hair." I am so bashful that I generally don't ask a fella what he likes in bed. The rare times in which I have, generally, the reply is something I find utterly baffling and find that I am unable to do.

Once the response was: "Vegetables. I like vegetables." Somehow, I don't think he meant that he likes to keep a healthy snack on the nightstand. After this revelation I could not bring myself to open his fridge.

Beyond the basics of communicating about the task at hand. *cough* Steamy talk can be a part of the experience as well.

More recently, I was in a situation in which the fella was fairly adept at it on his end. After a very long pause (It was my turn) I said something like, "Oh. Uh ... um ... well I guess I would **** you."

And with that I was done. Yup. That was the best I could come up with. That was as sexy as a dirty gym sock. I was not up to the challenge. (If you're into dirty socks, please, don't share.)

Another time, a different fella said that he likes girls who talk dirty in bed, my reply was, "Oh." And then complete silence.

Now, I am what I am. And what I am is uptight and uncomfortable when it comes to sexy sex talk. Which kind of goes with my suspicion that I am lousy lay.

But when I sit and think about it, I don't know what the big deal is. It's kind of silly really, I mean, I'm a 37 year old woman. There are so many things that I can do, so many things that I have done. What is my block on this in particular?

Perhaps I just don't know how it's done. Perhaps it's just not my thing. Perhaps I don't see the point of talking about the thing you are doing while you do it.

After all, I sit here typing a post. I am not sitting here typing a post about how I am typing a post and how it feels to type and what else I want to be typing about and how I can't wait to type the next thing that I am thinking of typing.

Still, I feel this bears further exploration, some investigation. And so I am considering going with CK to some events in which people talk about sex out loud in public, or read out loud about sex, or try to teach you how to talk or write about sex.

I am convinced that I will die of embarrassment at one of these things. And if I do please don't tell my mother how it happened.

4 comments:

Kat E said...

I'm with you on this one. I just find the whole thing supremely embarrassing.

As for the guy who liked vegetables...there are several ways to interpret that, and all of them are equally frightening.

MomVee said...

I always think of what Catherine Keener says in "Your Friends And Neighbors" in the midst of Ben Stiller's relentless sex patter: "Is there any chance that you could shut the **** up?"

C-Belle said...

Hmmm... I'd like to know what kind of time commitment is required before I start talking about my commenting. There's something on TV I want to watch...

Faith said...

you crack me up, suzy q. you really do.