Krystal Baugher tells us how gorgeous men, fart noises, laughter in bed and a hypersexual society are related, and why we shouldn’t take sex too seriously.
I met this guy.
He was tall, dark and intensely handsome. This man was the stereotype of hotness.
We quickly hit it off. Our kisses were magical. They were passionate and led us to the bedroom. Clothes were removed slowly and then all at once. And, oh his arms! His arms were built like two stacked buildings and made me want to go on an urban exploration. Things got intense.
There we were, getting hot and steamy and sweaty, when somehow with all the slickness and wetness our skin rubbed just right to create the loudest fart sound of all time. We both pretended we didn’t hear it. This was sex, it was supposed to be sexy!
Then it happened again.
I couldn’t hold in my laughter. I cracked up. He did not. Then the entire mood of the night changed.
Sure, sex is supposed to be sultry and sensual but the truth is, farts are funny. No matter where or when, the sound of a fart is always hilarious.
Here’s another truth, sex is funny. If one sits around and thinks about what is really going on (body parts rubbing against body parts, grunts, moans, liquids of all kinds getting everywhere) how can we not chuckle about this act that we all so enjoy so much?
His lack of laughing and his solemn demeanor about the situation, totally turned me off.
But I can’t blame him entirely. We’re kind of an uptight culture. More than that, we’re a confusing culture. On one end if we’re told anything in our youth about sexuality it’s that we should just abstain. At the same time we’re bombarded with people “banging”, asses “twerking”, and we are surrounded by a media that encourages bouncing boobs and butts in every program and commercial.
So the idea is that we’re supposed to give off a sexy image but not have the sex? How bewildering is that? No wonder some of us can’t laugh at accidental fart sounds.
Along with the mixed messages about sexuality, there is also this concept of “success” that many of us are taught to strive for. If we follow a particular script and do everything right we will be happy and finally feel complete. This makes us competitive. This makes us incapable of expressing vulnerability because winning comes first, and without that vulnerability we actually end up incapable of deeper connections and never getting to that happy/complete feeling.
Not taking sex so seriously is actually about letting go and getting closer to vulnerable. When two bodies strip naked in front of each other and rub up against each other, it can be immensely powerful. It can also be just as distant and mechanical.
We all have our hang-ups. We worry about what we look like, what we sound like, if the other person actually likes us that much, and if so, why do they like us. Many of us question if we truly have any idea what we’re doing when we’re doing it or if the other person might be weirded-out by certain desired requests.
For the most part when having sex with another person you’re doing it with each other because there is at least some sort of “like-ability” there. Understanding that we all have hang-ups assists in letting down one’s guard and opening up to be more vulnerable. This can allow us to have a deeper connection and experience more pleasure from the entire naked situation.
Sure, that guy I met was a total hunk. But he was all mechanics. If I wanted a machine I would have just stayed home with my good friend Lelo. What I wanted was more than that and the only way to get it is by exposing more than just our naked bodies. We have to expose what’s inside too. We have to let go off the seriousness and embrace the funny, weird and rawness of each other.
[image via Zoe on flickr]