Taking sex out of the bedroom

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a home. Thus it is with my Thomas at least. Having decided that a place of his own somewhere within the Dublin city limits was possible, he asked me to help him decorate his future gaff.
The female of the species has a highly developed sixth sense. However, you don’t need Derren Brown’s powers of intuition to work out this conundrum. When a man asks for your assistance in helping him choose soft furnishings it can only mean one thing. For some strange reason, the boy had decided that having yours truly about the house might well be a very good idea.
Thomas is nothing if not brave to risk the chaos that living with me invariably entails. I have many talents, but homemaking is not one of them. My bedroom looks like something Tracey Emin might have designed. Various packets of condoms clutter up the dresser, vibrators crowd out the lingerie drawer and evidence of last week’s sexual escapades lingers on the sheets. Being very busy actually living life, I haven’t got a lot of time for the dusting, cleaning and accessorising that having a lifestyle entails.
Despite these obvious shortcomings, Thomas was not to be dissuaded. Being a sensible, level-headed bloke, he pointed out that while he was good at cleaning, he couldn’t give himself a blowjob or cuddle himself at night. His unconcern about my hazardous housekeeping, the fact that he buys me flowers and gives better cunnilingus than any man on either side of the Liffey, made for a compelling argument. If he wanted a woman’s touch at home, I was willing to provide it.
Agreeing to make this change in our domestic arrangements has had an unforeseen effect on our weekends. Only last Saturday we were out for serious socialising, late night carousing and shagging till dawn. This Saturday, we were considering the merits of various apartments before traipsing off to the Mecca of modern living to have a look at furniture. Sex, rugs and rock ‘n roll.
Unlike most women, I am not a great shopper. In fact I’m not even a good one. If I had the budget of a small nation and could persuade them to close the doors and let me browse in peace, I’d be fine. But fighting for elbow room and queuing for the changing rooms puts me in bad form. Therefore, I was surprised by my reaction to the sleek shop we graced with our presence.
Perhaps it was all the soft textures – the velvet and silk cushions and bed throws – that got me excited. Running my hands along yet another gorgeous, if somewhat overpriced divan, got my mind thinking about the various sexual scenarios that could be played out on the sumptuous fabric. By the time we actually got to the furniture, I was horny as hell.
When choosing a couch, most people have certain considerations that they keep in mind. When Thomas asked me what I’d like, I had only one requirement – it had to be big and comfortable enough to have sex on. Luckily enough, this was what he’d been thinking as well. Apparently the average person spends 12 years of their life on the sofa. If this is indeed the case, it has to be practical and suit what you plan to use it for. After all, I am not that fond of TV.
In many ways, shopping for furniture with Thomas was like buying props for a porn movie. We considered suitability for shagging on all the furniture we looked at. How many positions could it comfortably contain, how would the fabric feel underneath naked skin and could it be angled in different ways? Strangely enough, not many pieces met our stringent requirements. What do other couples do in the lounge? Play Scrabble?
The furniture you have can definitely have a real effect on your sex life. In 2004, a company called Loving Angles won an Erotic Award for their innovative couch. Its modular design can be put together in many ways to allow for different angles of penetration. It looks just like regular furniture – so as long you don’t brag to your friends, no-one will even guess what it’s really for.
Since most sex takes place in bed, a decent mattress can make all the difference. Too soft can make really deep thrusting difficult as you are both bouncing in opposite directions. During my poverty-stricken student days, I had a bed with such squeaky springs that the girl in the room next to mine complained that noise kept her awake at night. Definitely a passion-killer! A mattress or couch that sits in a wooden frame is another no-no. Any position that involves sitting right on the edge can be more pain than pleasure, with the wood digging into your tender flesh. You have been warned…
Personally, I like having sex all over the house, not just in the bedroom. Counters, tables, and floors all have erotic possibilities. True, most of them are not going to be as comfortable as a bed, but comfort is less important to me than the spontaneity of having sex on the stairs because you couldn’t keep your hands off one another long enough to make it up to the bedroom. Who needs matching bath towels and his and her designer basins if your whole house is an erotic playground?
Now that’s what I call domestic bliss.