One of the great things about being in a relationship with a person who shares with you the same level of comfort, security, and passion is that it opens up an avenue for experimental sex. Such is the case with us (by us, I mean the lover and I). Always, I find myself thinking and feeling that I’ve hit the jackpot, in terms of how adventurous and uninhibited I can get (and with someone I have strong feelings of everything lovely and beautiful for, no less). That is, in the event that I wake up one morning and decide that I wanna get kinky in bed.

You see, save for that one time I dug my nails into the flesh of his back and scratched downwards, I’m quite the boring one in bed. Theoretically, I like rough sex; I like the idea of biting and hair-pulling and wrestling and the occasional gentle slams against a wall as you hurriedly undress your partner. But once I find myself in the bedroom with the prospect of sex hanging heavy in the air, all porn-worthy ideas are discarded and end up in a heap on the floor, much like our underthings and those obstructive pair of jeans I’ve been dying to rip off his body the second after I kissed him hello. When in the moment, all I want is to make love to him. I guess it’s safe to say that my idea of hot, mind-blowing sex is that of married, good old vanilla sex.

Fantasies, especially those of the sexual kind, aren’t beyond me/us, though. Lover and I have had several conversations about this and amusingly enough, even our so-called wildest fantasies fall short of the debauchery category. I’ve been told I get frisky in the presence of mirrors. But start mentioning “whips and chains” and “spanking” and “golden showers” and “spider glue traps” and you’ll see us squirming or giggling to hide our discomfort. It’s not that we’re a couple of prudes or that we’re being children about it; it’s just not our proverbial cup of (sexual) tea.

 I’m far from uptight in the bedroom so I guess I just like keeping things…sweet. My attempts at or ideas of naughty probably won’t make even the most junior of sexual outlaws nod in approval, which in a way disappoints me because I see it as a lack of imagination and creativity on my part. There was this one time, though, when I asked lover if he’d ever tried role-playing. Negative, but did I want to? “Yes! Let’s pretend to be poor people!” is what I said. I think. Poor people or farmers or maybe domestic helpers, I don’t recall.

I was obviously kidding, as the idea of role-play in the bedroom is silly to me. But all this doesn’t mean I’m completely ruling out taking a (sexual) walk on the wild side (with the exception of threesomes. Unless the other girl is Veronica Mars WHO IS A FICTIONAL CHARACTER, everybody go w00t w00t). We all do get a little playful sometimes and I think it’s the greatest thing having a person you can totally be comfortable getting naughty with.