Sex scenes in movies and novels are misleading and give us high expectations for nothing. Lovers gaze into each other’s eyes with desire, then kiss passionately as they undress each other slowly, touching tenderly and groping gently. The love-making is wonderful. It goes on swimmingly, uninterrupted, for a rather long time, maybe trying out several sexual positions here and there, and the lovers have an orgasm (or orgasms) at the same time, and it is magical. And then when done, they lie in each other’s arms, legs intertwined, hearts beating as one.
In reality, it is almost like a struggle.
There’s no gazing dreamily into each other’s eyes as you both burn in wild desire. Eye contact is avoided. And when undressing, the zip of your dress will jam and refuse to go down. Your partner will help you with it, pinching you with it in the process, but it will refuse to budge, and when it does, the hook of your bra will get stuck in your weave. And you have to place your clothes neatly on a chair or table or whatever available surface because if you throw them down in a pile like in the movies, they will be crumpled and creased, and will really look bad on you.
The sex will not go on uninterrupted. You will pause to express excruciating discomfort in your pelvic area because your partner is thrusting a tad too aggressively.
“Look, eh, slow down. It is not a 100-metre Olympics championship, my friend. Go easy. My bones are weak. Calcium deficiency.”
You will pause and tightly grip on your partner, wincing in pain because you have a muscle pull in your leg.
“Stop! Wait! Muscle pull! Waaaaahhhhh! I said stop!”
You will pause to scream, “WRONG HOLE! WRONG HOLE!”
You will pause to listen to something.
“Wait. I heard some noises. Is there someone at the door? Oh no, the kids have woken up alrea…NO, SWEETIE, YOUR POTTY IS IN THE TOILET, AND WILL YOU TELL YOUR BROTHER TO STOP PLAYING WITH THE LIGHTS AGAIN? I CAN SEE THEM FLICKING FROM IN HERE.”
And when you try out adventurous sexual positions, you will end up with a fractured skull.
“Blood of Jesus! Chei! My brother, are you trying to kill me? Are you an assassin? Your knee is digging into my oesophagus! I am not about to die from asphyxiation, ah ah. Let’s just stick to missionary.”
The sex won’t take as long as it does in the movies or novels. Two minutes into it and you’re heaving and panting, and you tell your partner, “See, eh, please carry on without me. I am not strong enough to handle this.”
And holding each other is a myth. When you’re done you will argue about Samantha while asking, “Have you seen my underwear?”
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