Bitch on the Blog

May 9, 2013

Once upon a time

With this post I am on such thin ground I can feel the ice breaking under my feather weight.

Today I found the assertion that “Erotic lovers view marriage as an extended honeymoon, and sex as the ultimate aesthetic experience”. Be that as it may. I most certainly would never describe sex as the ultimate AESTHETIC experience. It’s gore. If not blood most certainly sweat. Enter condoms – that most evil of inventions since Lord Byron used dried oxens’ bladders to keep population under control; condoms re-instated AFTER a brief and most marvellous interval in the sixties and seventies. The contraceptive pill. Happy days. All we were concerned about was NOT getting pregnant. Yes. Those were the days. Now sex is sex with surgical gloves on. How I do my washing up. Barrier method: Marigold – yellow – guaranteed to keep a skin between hot water and my fair hands. I hate condoms. With a vengeance. Seriously. Has anyone ever considered the exhilarating surge when sperm, unhindered, hits the end of a woman’s tunnel and what it does? No. Thought not.

Where were we? Aesthetics. To me rubber is as un-aesthetic as it can get. Enough to drive you back into the nunnery and dream of better times.

U

PS Don’t forget to wash your hands next time you touch anyone (by accident)

PPS I wonder how sperm feels being tripped up at the first hurdle

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11 Comments »

  1. The diversity of your posts never ceases to amaze me. I never pondered how sperm feel. Come to think of it (no pun intended), I never gave a thought to how my eggs (when they were making their trek down the tubes) felt either. I wonder if this could be the start of a sequel for the Vagina Monologues? The Sperm and Egg Dialogs?

    I’m happy to say that I don’t have to deal with the (and I agree with you whole heartedly and heatedly) vile (but better-safe-than-sorry) condom. Phil and I come to each other “clean” and we are exclusively committed to each other. No worries about STDs or children (except the ones we already have who are grown up).

    Way too much information… 😉

    Comment by Lorna's Voice — May 9, 2013 @ 19:01 | Reply

    • No, no, Lorna, not “way too much information”. To reciprocate your favour: You can be as clean as a whistle and committed. The first time I hit “the sack” (oh my god) when I miscarried about two years after the Angel had been reeled in. Doctor’s verdict: Give it a rest for a few months. Sex yes. However: NO PILL. CONDOM instead. I don’t know who was more aghast: The egg or the sperm. As it happened the market had just cottoned onto the ‘femidom’. I tell you, Lorna, if you want to take ardour out of my steam use that weapon of massive defense and insert a femidom. Still, beggars don’t want to be losers. Hideous. You share yourself with someone for years only to find yourself divided by latex. It was better than the male version. Oh, how FOS and I looked at each other. Of a practical mind I tried to console him with “Think of it as a banana getting dressed”. No man wants to think of his penis as a banana in need of, as Cynthia puts it, a ‘raincoat’.

      Fact is, and what I was trying to convey: There was a time when sex was sex. I remember the Angel coming home (he must have been about 12 or so) having had sex ‘education’ at school (don’t make me laugh). “Mama”, he wailed, “sex sounds like a disease”. Well, I soon dispelled that notion. But, there is no doubt about it: Our generation had it so good. That brief window in history when the pill allowed us to throw all caution to the wind, be spontaneous. Enter the 80s and mass hysteria. Not that I wish to belittle how scared people became. I don’t believe in God but have to hand it to him: Nice one. A latter day Sodom and Gomorrah. How to nail you to the cross. You know what’s so laughable: STD clinics are still full to the brim. Natural causes as it were.

      Lorna, if we do the sperm/egg dialogues (splendid idea) which role would you prefer? There is only ONE egg. Millions of sperm. Per shot. But then, maybe, sperm doesn’t have an opinion. Lemmings over the cliff. Poor sods. I am not in sales – though by rights should be if I weren’t so shy: It’s the numbers’ game sperm plays, isn’t it? Says the woman who hates waste.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — May 10, 2013 @ 01:49 | Reply

  2. If you don’t want to feel the rain, wear a raincoat– if you get my drift.

    Comment by bikehikebabe66 — May 9, 2013 @ 21:18 | Reply

  3. Actually the phrase is “It’s like taking a shower wearing a raincoat.”

    Comment by bikehikebabe66 — May 10, 2013 @ 00:18 | Reply

    • Yes, Cynthia. Sigh. Wearing a raincoat whilst taking a shower does somewhat defeat the objective. Clean you ain’t. But at least the raincoat is dripping.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — May 10, 2013 @ 01:54 | Reply

  4. I also hate condoms – nasty inconvenient sensation-blocking horrors. Fortunately J is post-menopause and neither of us have ever “strayed” so we have no need of the evil things. And I’m sure you haven’t overlooked the condom-less alternatives like the clitoris and the frenulum.

    Comment by Nick — May 10, 2013 @ 06:56 | Reply

    • Indeed, Nick. However, my lament wasn’t about how to climax. That’s so easy it’s laughable.

      My post was about the sterile world we now live in where penetration (with an as yet unknown quantity) equals fear. Can you think back (particularly as a man) to your first fumblings – and on top of that you have to remember the blasted condom? Not as a contraceptive but as protection of your health. Our generation had it easy: Guys relied on you to take the pill. End of story. There was an innocence in sex which I feel has been stolen from today’s youngsters in the wake of the Aids hysteria. And that is largely what we are talking about. Aids. Other than that: An assortment of sexually transmitted diseases has always been about. And still is. Because some even a condom can’t prevent.

      Fact is: Life is a messy business. Always has been. Anyone for a spot of syphilis pre-antibiotics? So our fear of ‘whatever’ has frightened us back into being not promiscuous. Really? Pull the other one. Who are all these people who avail themselves of the services of prostitutes? Surely not all bachelors with a hunchback who aren’t able to pull unless they pay.

      Which reminds me, by way of anecdote my mother told me back in the late Sixties. Place: Sweden. Remember, Swedish people – on the whole – are white, blond and blue eyed. Swedish woman gives birth. To a chocolate baby. Mayhem ensues. Swedish husband of Swedish woman points finger. At her – his wife, mother of babe in arms. What eventually emerged: The swine had had sex with a prostitute (nine months earlier) who had had sex with a black guy (minutes before); the swine went home not having had his fill made his wife happy too, unknown to him transferring another man’s ‘black’ sperm. Result? Fait acompli. I have no idea whether this story is true though dare say, my mother being such an innocent, it probably is. Why do I call him a swine? Then and now? Because whether you stray or not, particularly when you have strayed: WASH! As a matter of courtesy.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — May 10, 2013 @ 08:14 | Reply

      • Oh yes, I get your point about the sterile world of penetration-fear. In my younger days too I assumed the woman was on the pill, and by the time the AIDS scare had started I was well settled with Jenny. The few times I’ve tried using a condom were embarrassing in the extreme. Talk about a fiddly and ardour-dampening procedure. My point though was that there are other sexual possibilities that don’t require a condom and avoid all that shenanigans. But penetration is still seen by many as the only “real” form of sex.

        Comment by Nick — May 10, 2013 @ 14:39 | Reply

        • Yes, Nick. You have just taught me the one rule I often forget. To paraphrase Magnus Magnussum: “I wish I hadn’t stared but let’s finish anyway.” Blast. Never mind. Man up, woman, I tell myself.

          I wouldn’t say that penetration is the only REAL form of sex. Unless you are Bill Clinton. And I do agree with him: A stain on your dress most certainly does not constitute having had sex “with that woman”. Swallow instead. Main thing in life is to know how to bend rules so they fit the screenplay. No bull. I mean it. And think of sweet Boris Becker. There he was and now his daughter and its world knows she was conceived in a broom cupboard. My own conception making a much better story. Still, both my parents are still alive and I don’t want them to sue me for damages. So I shall keep shtumm for the time being.

          Sorry, about the above detour. Yes, so ahem: I am afraid, Nick, I am one of those women to whom “penetration is the only real form of sex”. The most desirable. The most satisfying. The main course as it were. Everything else canapes, bouches most amusing, I am sure. All of you, men and women, who don’t agree: We each have our own threshold of desire. Mine is high, yet pretty simple. Back to the caves, guys. Which reminds me: If there is one type of guy who is a complete turnoff it’s the one who thinks pressing the right ‘buttons’ is all that’s required. Don’t read how to manuals. Just get on with it.

          U

          Comment by bitchontheblog — May 10, 2013 @ 16:34 | Reply

  5. Rubber slathered along the flesh is about as appealing as a swimming cap. I’ve been married to same man for nearly thirty years and I think he would condom if he cheated so I’m rolling the dice. Tubes tied – no pills. Guess I’m just living the life – huh??

    Comment by reneejohnsonwrites — May 11, 2013 @ 22:20 | Reply


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