September 21, 2011

Talk Dirty to Me

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There are only two things I’m better at when I’m drunk: dancing and dirty talk. But even with an alcohol blanket, I’m still pretty clumsy. This awkwardness is amplified when I’m completely naked trying to simultaneously pleasure and be pleasured.

My uneasiness starts with the “Put your __________ in/around my _________” instruction. Sometimes I appreciate this directness. I wish my chemistry labs had this level of clarity in their procedure.

Then at some point there is usually a “you’re so hot/sexy/good” comment, to which I usually reply a hesitant “Thank you,” or say nothing at all and keep going about my business.

When I’m feeling especially outgoing I may eek out “slower … faster … harder … etc.” like an adult version of the hot and cold game.

Sometimes a sex buddy will say, “Ohhhh Morgan, yeah Morgan,” and I can only assume that he wants me to say his name back in a similarly passionate manner, as if he were the only person on earth who can make me feel this way, or that his particular style of sexing is so great I have to brand it with his name. The problem I have in this situation is that I’ll sometimes forget his name momentarily. I’m pretty bad with names, especially when I’m under pressure.

And occasionally you’ll encounter someone with such a bizarre nickname that lustfully shouting it completely ruins the mood. So many people have nicknames that are nouns or adjectives, and saying, “Ohhh … Tricky …” just sounds weird. Do you switch to their given name even though you’ve never used it before? Dilemma.

And my favorite question is, “How do you like it baby?” I usually respond with, “Um, what you’re doing is fine I guess,” even though what I’m thinking is, “You sound creepy when you say that. Also, when I close my eyes I forget that you’re a person and think you are a bear the way you’re mauling my clitoris.”

Clearly I can’t offer this bit of criticism, or else he will start crying. Then he’ll break down and erase everything he thought he knew about sex, and I would have to be his sex mentor. I would basically become his T.A. for SEX 1101: We would have weekly discussion sections, and prelims where I would test his ability to make me orgasm.

But I don’t have time for this! I already T.A. a class, take a full course load and have extracurricular activities. So I stay quiet and let him continue scraping the bottom of my honey jar until I can’t take it, then I’ll give him a blow job and hope he falls asleep.

In theory, dirty talk can be a major enhancer of the sexual experience. But unless I’m completely comfortable with someone on multiple levels, my dirty mouth is as closed as Manndibles after 7pm. (Manndibles, you’re killing me with your hours).

Maybe it’s our generation. I honestly hate blaming anything on “our generation,” but we really did grow up with different modes of communication. In middle school I flirted over the Internet more than in real life, and even now text messaging has become such an integral part of our romantic relationships. “We talked for three hours,” now means “We texted for three hours.” We’re more comfortable sending sexts than talking sex.

There is something so sexy about a non-verbal, passionate, we’re-on-the-same-wavelength type of sexual encounter, but maybe it takes a while to get there. If the sex is bad, speak up. Then eventually, when you’re more comfortable with each other, you can ask for your crazy kinky weird fantasies to be fulfilled.

I should take my own advice — or maybe even consult a professional. Luckily, sex columnist extraordinaire  Dan Savage is coming to Cornell in a few weeks. If you also need professional help or just love talking about sex, he is holding a Q&A on Oct. 5. I’ll see you there, Tricky.

Morgan T. is a junior in the College of Human Ecology. She may be reached at morgant@cornellsun.com. After Midnight appears alternate Thursdays this semester.

Original Author: Morgan T.