Do you think there is nothing more boring in the world than class reunions, other people's dreams, winter puffer jackets, weather presenters, and the "Twilight" movie saga? You are mistaken. Sometimes the most tedious activity in the world becomes sex.
Non-Emotional Partner
Men, of course, are terrifyingly suited to the autumn impartiality. The coldness in their eyes, the strictness of their lips, the chiseled profile. But engaging in sex with a bronze-cast monument to an unnamed lover is also not appealing to anyone. A real man, although he doesn’t cry, certainly breathes. Sometimes – intermittently and indifferently, whispering into the ear of his beloved woman.
Predictability
Now he will kiss you on the neck, then "you-smell-amazing," a hug, inhale-exhale, the finale, a ritual cigarette in the kitchen. Somewhere between the third and fourth episode, you start to feel like Bill Murray in "Groundhog Day." You just want to, cursing, spill a cup of freshly brewed tea on your lap, so that at least something this time goes off-script.
Time
After a dozen or so years of living together, an endless number of pleasant things happen. He finally remembers how many spoons of sugar to put in her tea and how many in his coffee. She allows him to play on the Xbox on Saturdays and to keep those damn quails on the balcony. They feel more and more mutual kinship, respect, and mature intimacy.
And the more they have in common, the more boring their sex becomes. Because what is truly seductive are our differences/disagreements/mismatches. Unlikeness – that is the most potent aphrodisiac in the world.
Silence
Everything is fine with us. We are absolutely compatible in bed. Everything that happens between us is magical, cool, and for life. We never have sex without an orgasm. We don’t get jealous, we don’t take offense, we don’t cheat.
Many couples have informally agreed to consider themselves perfect. Afraid even to shake the cult of impeccable happiness that has settled in their relationship with an awkward glance. What happens to sex with such an approach? Right, it quietly dies.
Ordinary human sex cannot tolerate absolute sterility. It must always remain somewhere between "go to hell" and "oh my God, what a man." Between trusting vulgarity of admiration and the squabbles of pointless arguments.
It should not be feared to talk about, joke about, sing about, and even shout about. Because silence is a sign of dependence, not agreement. Good sex only happens between free people.
