Normally Little Miss Menopause oozes about as much wholesomeness as a Hostess Twinkie. But every once in a while she will deteriorate into “Rated R” writing on her blog. A reliable red flag? She’ll usually begin referring to herself in the third person. This is dissociative behavior, but that’s not important right now.
What IS important is that I detest the typical foreplay that gets most normal people horny. I can’t even stand to use the word “horny” because I think of reptiles with warts. Can we please just call it “hot” or “lusty,” people?
This unique problem of mine was probably a main reason for at least one of my divorces. Toward the end of the marriage, he (who shall remain nameless) introduced an “Intimacy Inducing” Smartphone app into our relationship. Desperate measures? You betcha.
The idea was to choose from a huge menu of pre-listed sexual activities, and if both people picked the same things, those particular fantasies went in the couple’s mutual “sexual bucket” to try out in real life. (There really was a beach pail image waiting to be filled!)
After two weeks, when my “To-Do” list remained empty but three hundred disgusting ideas crowded my “To-Don’t” list, the app declared me frigid and referred me to a local sex therapist.
The app also told me the percentage of couples who had tried each particular obnoxious activity, which I guess was supposed to encourage me to “Keep Up With The (Porno)Jones!”
But I quickly realized I needed to be more flexible and open-minded. So listed below are the least repulsive and inoffensive ideas the Smartphone app (and my then husband) wanted us to try. See if you don’t agree with me that these things are NOT sexy.
9 Turn-Ons That Won’t Turn Me On in a Million Years!
- Play Around in a Hot tub Together – The jets were fun but when my then husband (do I have to keep referring to him like that? Yes I do!) wanted to actually “do it” in the bubbles, I kept wondering how many other couples lived in our condominium complex (with this exact Smartphone app) and had been in the very same Jacuzzi recently. Eww. So I composed an “Ode To Chlorine” poem instead.
- Shower Sex — I’ve never understood the appeal here. Get naked under unflattering bathroom florescent lighting to partake in a utilitarian cleansing experience (associated with either gym locker rooms or Norman Bates in Psycho) with my hair plastered to my head while mascara runs down my cheeks and he cracked prison jokes with “don’t bend over to pick up the soap” as the punchline?
- Sex on a Fur Rug in Front of the Fire – As an animal lover, I would forever imagine which cuddly Bambi creature had been killed for our coziness? And fireplaces are for toasting those squishy, white unhealthy blobs. And even though my stomach technically qualified, I would stick with marshmallows, thank you very much. Besides, I sweat profusely when I get “lusty” so I don’t need an open flame to make me perspire even more, thereby necessitating another utilitarian shower together. Blech.
- Add heat or ice to oral sex – Why on earth? This activity was stressful enough as it was! But they want you to alternate turning an ordinary penis into a popsicle and then some kinda fresh outa-the-oven baked goodie that you’ll need an oven mitt to handle? Really, can we all just go back to using the trusty Reddi-Whip can?
- Role Play as Stewardess and Passenger—I’m deathly afraid to fly and pretending to be inducted into the “Mile High” club would have offered me zero thrills per minute. All I would’ve thought about were those air-sickness bags and tiny packages of salted peanuts spilling everywhere.
- Do It In Front Of a Mirror – If I had to view my wide reflection staring back at me during sex, he might as well have been banging me on a doctor’s office scale. I would be obsessing about diets and “a moment on the lips, forever on the hips.” And then fish n’ chips and chicken strips and onion dips and licorice whips and… yes I binge when I’m being scrutinized.
- Incorporate chocolate covered strawberries or caramel sauce into your foreplay – Right! After the above mirror escapade, the only thing I’d be doing with those treats would be adding up how many points they were on Weight Watchers.
- Wrap body Parts in Saran Wrap – Oh sure! Because he needed more proof that he was getting served leftovers again.
- Masturbate in Front of Each Other, Narrate Finger Auction – Huh? Auction? Okay, I guess it would go something like this…. “The next item is a close-up of My Vagina. Done in lovely muted colors and circular brush strokes. I’m now sliding a single finger inside. Do I hear two fingers? Three? Three! Going once, going twice, coming three times!” Oh, never mind. There was a typo in the Smartphone app. It was Finger Action, NOT Auction.
But that gave me an idea! I looked over the other 8 items featured on our sexual bucket list in the hopes that I had misread them as well. But there was no such luck — 100% accurate. There were only two options left — #1. Serious negotiations with my then husband or #2. Make an appointment with that recommended sex therapist.
But I chose option #3, deleting the Intimacy Smartphone app. And also eventually…deleting my then husband.
Note: A modified version of this article originally appeared on BLUNTmoms over a year ago.
And if you’d like to be kept aware of the other places my writing appears, I finally have an Author Facebook Page. I would love (if you’re active on Facebook) for you to click HERE and like it. That way when my personal blog occasionally goes dark, we can still keep in touch. Have a great weekend! Stephanie D. Lewis – – AKA Little Miss Menopause.