Sex Column: Seven Minutes in Heaven

Photo from Voice of Words
Written by: The Jaguar
When most people wake up, the first thing they look at is their alarm clock or their phone for some sign of the time. But when I wake up, I don’t always want to know what time it is. If it where up to me, there would be no clocks. So people could make love all day long and not worry about being late for anything. If clocks ceased to exist, maybe guys would last longer. And guys, if there were no longer clocks, women could no longer utter: “Not tonight, I have an early class.” To me, clocks are a key component in what makes sex so rushed and not fulfilling. Don’t get me wrong, quickies are always wonderful. (Once before my piano recital, I did a quickie and I swear my crescendos went higher than ever.) If I look at the time anyway, chances are it’s after 11:30 a.m.
Instead of the clock, the first thing I see is two opened Trojan Magnums and one flavored condom wrapper on the floor in my room, the guy who put on the condoms downstairs on the couch and my black Victoria’s Secret bra downstairs in my roommates purse. I try to assess the night. Why in the world would a gorgeous, perfectly fit boy be sleeping downstairs? Why does my roommate have my bra in her purse? I shrug it off. Who knows. I walk past the kitchen and trip over glasses of malt beverages, clear a section of the counter from shot glasses and pour a cup of 7UP. Hungover. I then wake up the beautiful man, ask him when he’s leaving. Grab my bra from my roommates’ purse and head back upstairs to clean my room full of condom wrappers, misplaced clothing and spilled drinks.
According to my trusty threaded iPhone text, me and my roommate ending up playing a drinking game that resulted in maximum stripping. After the strip show me and they boy went upstairs for the main attraction that lasted a grand total of seven minutes. Turns out, I booted the man downstairs, due to lack of longevity. I then wrote myself an excuse list for the first time, including the classic line of “I have to wake up early tomorrow, sorry. “
On a scale of one to ten, this night was a three. After all, it did happen on tame Tuesday.
I did, however, throw the excuse list away (I’m not the type of girl to turn down sex) and gave the guy another chance. Like wine, it gets better with time. So what is the moral of this story? (And yes, sex can have morals!)
The next time you have sex, please don’t think about the time, think about the moment. Think about the passionate feelings, the inimitable connection.
I am your new Uhuru columnist specializing in men (and yes, women) sex , relationships, sexual education and sex humor. And if you don’t agree with me, minute man, perhaps you should wake up!