As a sex and intimacy coach, I encourage couples to have a weekly sex date. I prescribe three-hour chunks of time carved out for sex. Only sex.
This is sustenance for your relationship.
People often ask what that ought to look like. I say: massage, extended exploration, like 30-45 minutes of oral sex. Fantasy play. Introduce new toys. The key is that those three hours have to be filled up with some kind of sensual interaction.
Me, I’m a marathon fucker. I make no apologies for that. To keep me happy, I require frequent blocks of time dedicated to sex. Like weekends. And weeks.
How do you dedicate six days to sex?
Let me explain.
We’re going to a resort with our own private, jungle villa. We will spend a lot of time in that space.
There’s the “We’re here!” sex. The “This is so amazing that we have this block of time together. I’m so excited to show you how amazing this is!” kind of sex.
There’s “Waking up in the middle of the night, grateful and aroused, in the sultry sea air, and hoisting myself on my lover,” sex.
And the morning sex. “How many ways can I wake you up?” sex. Blow-job, good-morning sex. There’s “I love that your erection between my legs is an alarm clock” sex.
In-between the villa sex, we will go out and eat food. We will need to. For this, and other public excursions, I will wear clothes. But only certain kinds of clothes. Like dresses. I really hate pants and I really resent winter for making pants a necessity.
So there will be dresses. There will not be panties. Even though the world is full of pretty panties, I will wear none of them. My lover will be acutely aware of this, my no-panties rule. Because I will find many ways to remind him. Though I don’t think he will forget.
And there’s yoga. We are keen to do yoga. Because yoga keeps your hip flexors open and relaxed. And that makes keeping my legs open for hours easier. And it stretches your chest and unwinds your blocks—emotional and physical. So yoga is important. Important for the sex.
Also, I bought new, very short, shorts, especially for the occasion. Seriously. I was busy shopping the night before we left because this is so important.
Don’t think I don’t know how I look in cat/cow and down dog. In those shorts? I feel a bit sorry for him, really. He doesn’t stand a chance.
That’s some simmer for you. Foreplay perpetua.
Have I mentioned the public sex yet? I love public sex. And outdoor sex. Beds are okay, but jungles, beaches, boats and up-against-walls are better.
And then there’s the public groping. I will grope his cock and his ass at every opportunity. While I’m standing in front of him, waiting to be seated for dinner, I’ll reach my hand behind him and stroke him, aiming to get him hard before we sit down.
When we eat, we don’t sit across from each other. We sit side-by-side. This is another rule. That way, there can be lots of touching, and leaning into necks to say important, guttural things. There can be soft, murmuring talk that says, “You slay me.” And there can be plenty of wandering, teasing hands.
This is what dinner is all about. And yoga. And everything else in-between the “sex.”
Foreplay perpetua. The constant simmer.
All of our other activities are there to enhance and support the sex. And really, it’s all sex. It’s mindfucking and heartfucking and deep penetration on every level.
That’s how you have six days of sex.