Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Super Bowl Edition

Today’s the day. The most sacred of games to all sports fans. For some, it’s the alpha and omega of manly competition. For others, it’s just another excuse to drink beer and eat buffalo wings. It’s not exactly sexy, but it’s as big a deal as any holiday where gifts, decorations, and alcohol are involved.

That’s right, it’s Super Bowl Sunday. The Atlanta Falcons and the New England Patriots have fought, clawed, and (in the case of the Patriots) potentially cheated to get to this moment. They endured a rigorous regular season. They made it through the playoffs. Now, this is it. This is the end of the line. It’s the Super Bowl.

It’s a day that reduces many men to the maturity of an 7-year-old watching cartoons on a sugar rush. It’s also a day where some women basically lock their panties, hide the children, and wait out the storm. However, it’s the women bold enough to watch the game alongside the men that help make this day special. To those women, I tip my hat to you.

I’ll certainly be indulging my inner sports fanatic. I’ve got a case of beer, bags of chips, and enough to greasy food to clog my arteries until mid-March. I’m going to have a damn good time.

Before kickoff, though, and before the hangover that’s sure to follow, I’d like to share my Super Bowl edition of Sexy Sunday Thoughts. It may not get you in the mood for football, but it’ll get you in a mood. That much, I’m certain of.

Another term for friends with benefits is mutual orgasm exchange.

I’m at all not against the concept of “friends with benefits.” I’m okay with any and all efforts of any two people to freely and responsibly pursue the toe-curling pleasures of intimacy. That said, I think the label is overly coy.

Let’s not mince words or beat around the bush. Aspiring writers, even those who use colorful metaphors for female genitalia, don’t like that. A friend with benefits is partner in a transaction and the currency is orgasms. That’s a hell of a benefit for a hell of a friend.

Eating too much makes you fat, but having sex counts as exercise so it’s possible to balance things out if you’re willing to be that horny.

There’s an ongoing debate about just how many calories that sex burns. Much like food, it depends on the quality and quantity of the goods involved. Whatever the case, sex does get the heart going and that will burn calories. Those who have a hard time holding back at a buffet table may want to keep that in mind when contemplating how they’ll stay in shape. Let’s face it. A rigorous workout through sex beats going to the gym.

In a perfect world, good breath and good oral sex skills would be closely correlated.

We don’t live in a perfect world, I know. Being an aspiring erotica/romance writer, it’s only natural to contemplate just how amazing such a world would be. For a sexy mind like mine, that world means those generous enough to give oral sex are rewarded beyond the satisfaction of pleasing their partner.

I don’t know what good breath from oral sex might smell like. For men, maybe it’s a mix of rose petals and lavender. For women, maybe it’s a mix of mint, sea salt, and taffy. It’s sad we don’t live in a world where we can find out, but it’s still fun to contemplate.

Money can’t buy happiness directly. But since it can buy prostitutes and prostitutes give orgasms, then it’s logical to say it can buy happiness indirectly.

Prostitution is a controversial issue for men and women alike. It always has been. They don’t just call it the world’s oldest profession because it caters to one of the oldest demands, although that is a big part of it.

Controversy or not, at its core, prostitutes deliver a certain brand of direct happiness to their customers. It’s all for a price and, regardless of how costly it is or what act is involved, that transaction occurs out of a desire for that happiness. For those prostitutes who do their job and do their job well, they are proof that money can truly buy happiness.

Woman have had it rough over the years, but they’ll never know the agonizing strain of having to hide a boner during gym class in high school.

Women, I know you deal with a lot of issues. Some are so serious that you have to hold big marches to raise awareness. I’m not undercutting the importance of these struggles. They are worth fighting for.

That said, a woman will never know the struggle men face in hiding awkward erections. Talk to any man who survived high school. They’ll talk about having to conceal awkward boners as if they were war stories. It’s more harrowing than it sounds.

It’s not that some people just hate dancing. They just know that they dance in a way that makes everyone around them less horny.

I’m not a dancer. I’ve never been big on dancing unless I have a significant amount of alcohol in my system. I get criticism every now and then for my reluctance to dance. I think there are many men and women in the same boat as me who avoid it not because we’re bad at it. It just sends the wrong message to those we’re trying to impress. Bad dancing is right up there with projectile vomit in terms of things that kill the mood.

For a man, true love is never having to apologize to his partner when he cops a feel.

I’m a romantic at heart. That’s not just because I write erotica/romance either. A part of me purrs like a kitten in a yarn factory when I contemplate the beauty of true love. There are all sorts of magical elements to it. Being able to cop a feel is one of the more underrated aspects of love. I think it deserves more recognition. To those of you with lovers, I hope you make this part of your Valentine’s Day celebration.

Softcore porn is like cake with no icing. It’s still pretty damn good, but not as good as we wish it were.

There’s a near infinite variety of porn. Some involve bondage. Some involve elaborate costumes. Some involve clown makeup and will give most people nightmares for the rest of their lives. That variety, like the kinds of chocolate, are a big part of what makes life worth living.

Then, there’s softcore porn. Anyone who has ever stayed up late to watch Cinemax knows what I’m talking about. It has almost everything we want in porn, except the really tasty bits. Much like a cake, we’ll still eat it without the icing. We’ll even enjoy it. It’s just that we really want that icing.

There you have it. Hope that gets everyone in the mood. Enjoy the big game!

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