Beneath my carefully-molded exterior of sarcastic cynicism beats the heart of a poet and sappy sentimentalist, as some of you may already know. Thus, despite being a virgin, I have given a surprising amount of thought about my wedding night.
A friend recently told me that she thought sex was probably rather awkward, especially the first time. While I’ve no doubt this can be true, I think the awkwardness can be abated by the approach you take. If approached with an air of anxiety or urgency, its importance grows to the point where it becomes intimidating. Instead, look at it this way: You have the rest of your lives to perfect and hone your skills…but there’s a brutal honesty in the first time, an intimacy that sexual mastery cannot convey. Naked, not just in body, but in soul; secret hopes, fears, and desires made manifest and visible at last.
So here is a glimpse of my honeymoon fantasy, showcasing a theoretical method I call Cover Up Your Sexual Ignorance With Charisma. I think it’s all right to share with you, since I’ll have come up with something even better when the time arises.
Honeymoons are wonderful times to visit far-off locales, but I think you should spend the first night at home. Why exhaust yourself with hours of travel, if you won’t fully appreciate your destination for at least a couple days? And why pass up such a prime opportunity for planning and scene-setting?
I carry my blushing bride across the threshold, and she sees my (now our) house/apartment/igloo for the first time in weeks. While she has been busy planning the wedding, I have occupied myself with a little amateur redecorating.
The lights are out, and every room is instead lit with artfully arranged taper candles, each a deep wine-red.
And there will, of course be flowers. She will have her own preference, but for the time being, let us imagine roses, as 50 million poets can’t be wrong.
Music plays; sweet orchestral music from the 40s or 50s, with piano and violins beckoning us to dance.
And so we kick off our shoes and socks. In tuxedo, wedding dress, and bare feet, we dance. We begin with a waltz, dancing until we fall at last into the rocking embrace of lovers too entranced for formality or structure. As our dancing changes, the music fades into a soft, smooth jazz, the sound of a saxophone’s mellow smile wrapping around us.
We reminisce about how we first met, and the moments we first realized we loved each other. We whisper secrets we’ve never spoken before, and may never speak again.
I loosen my tie. She lets her hair down, flowing delicately and freely.
We move to the kitchen, where a bottle of champagne chills in a bucket of ice. The cork does not pop, but sighs, not wanting to interrupt the moment. Arms interlocked, we sip champagne and laugh as the bubbles tickle our noses.
Rich Swiss chocolates are also arranged on a small plate. We let the chocolates melt in our mouths…not chewing, just savoring them, making them last as long as possible.
We share a Swiss chocolate kiss.
A trail of rose petals leads us to the bedroom, and then…
Whoops, did I just shut the door in your face? Sorry, looks like this is just going to be a PG honeymoon fantasy.
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Ladies, if you want an interesting sex life, marry someone who creates, and who creates with passion. If the guy you love lives the lifestyle of a viewer, always taking in, and never giving out, it will bleed over into your sex life. He may think his internet experience will qualify him to be a great lover, but in reality, it prepares him only for being pandered to.
Hold out for someone who creates. Writers are clearly the best (don’t try to argue; the words are on my side), but any creator is better than a taker. Artists, musicians, game designers, inventors, filmmakers–we are the unsung Casanovas of our age.