"Sexual intercourse began in nineteen sixty-three," wrote Phillip Larkin,"between the end of the 'Chatterley' ban and the Beatles' first LP." And Sadomasochism began in 2012 with the release of Fifty Shades of Grey, a book as grey and pedestrian as the footpath. Nothing quite demarcates you as a bore like a Fifty Shades reference. Alluding to the novel is now a byword for "I'm a person of limited horizons. I consider myself a liberated person, yet I waited for a popular book to legitimise an aspect of my sexuality. In addition to this, I rarely venture outside the very obvious." The success of this book has brought me to the conclusion that half the population of the English speaking world was birthed fully grown and articulate around the end of 2011 from giant spores, such is their level of apparent ignorance. SMBD has been around far longer than Fifty Shades, and erotica novels have been around for centuries. One imagines that those who have been S&M practitioners for a longtime must have felt aggrieved at the popularisation of less conventional sexual practices. If anything was given birth by the book, it was the dominatrix hipster, bemoaning how she was doling out sexual punishment long before it was widely accepted and appreciated.
With this in mind, I feel it my duty to write a history of sex, explaining how people have been having different varieties of sex for centuries. And who better to write it, than me, from the wealth of information stored at the top of my head? "You?! Know about sex?!", I hear you ask incredulously. "Do I know about sex?", I retort rhetorically, nudging my friend in the rips and repeating the question. Ha! Do I know about sex? This is me we're talking about. I know all about sex. I've even had it. Many times. We're talking naked women in the bed. We're talking interlocking genitalia. We're talking the million dollar blowjob, grade-A pussy, and wild romps that get the neighbours talking. We're talking scandalous, shameless behaviour and an escalating competitiveness with your friends and rivals that results in doing really unenjoyable things just so you can say you did it. We're talking a threesome with two absolute mingers, leaving out that last detail when regaling your friends with your sexploits. We're talking the Devil's threesome and crying in front the mirror the next day, wondering who you are anymore. We're talking too much fibre in your diet, resulting in having to resist going to the bathroom until you're desperate, so you don't take too long and she doesn't know what you're doing in there. When I walk down the street, people recognise me as a man who has sex. If you asked any stranger about me, they'd agree that I most probably have had sex. "That man is so 'sex', he could be a gigolo.", is what they would say. We're talking boobs, man. Leering, groping - the works. We're talking foreplay and stuff. Pah! Do I know about sex…
If you're still not convinced, then I guess there's no persuading you. Perhaps some people like the feeling of their softened brain dribbling out their ears when they read appalling prose and cringe-inducing dialogue. Perhaps some people (mistakingly) believe that being a billionaire makes you interesting. Please do keep alluding to your sex life as though it makes you a more interesting person, and by all means, assume that your sexuality is the secret true of your being. I will have to accept your contributions to the mediocrity and dullness of the world. The sad reality is that society is cruel, and there are some forms of human cruelty that don't have a safe word.
With this in mind, I feel it my duty to write a history of sex, explaining how people have been having different varieties of sex for centuries. And who better to write it, than me, from the wealth of information stored at the top of my head? "You?! Know about sex?!", I hear you ask incredulously. "Do I know about sex?", I retort rhetorically, nudging my friend in the rips and repeating the question. Ha! Do I know about sex? This is me we're talking about. I know all about sex. I've even had it. Many times. We're talking naked women in the bed. We're talking interlocking genitalia. We're talking the million dollar blowjob, grade-A pussy, and wild romps that get the neighbours talking. We're talking scandalous, shameless behaviour and an escalating competitiveness with your friends and rivals that results in doing really unenjoyable things just so you can say you did it. We're talking a threesome with two absolute mingers, leaving out that last detail when regaling your friends with your sexploits. We're talking the Devil's threesome and crying in front the mirror the next day, wondering who you are anymore. We're talking too much fibre in your diet, resulting in having to resist going to the bathroom until you're desperate, so you don't take too long and she doesn't know what you're doing in there. When I walk down the street, people recognise me as a man who has sex. If you asked any stranger about me, they'd agree that I most probably have had sex. "That man is so 'sex', he could be a gigolo.", is what they would say. We're talking boobs, man. Leering, groping - the works. We're talking foreplay and stuff. Pah! Do I know about sex…
If you're still not convinced, then I guess there's no persuading you. Perhaps some people like the feeling of their softened brain dribbling out their ears when they read appalling prose and cringe-inducing dialogue. Perhaps some people (mistakingly) believe that being a billionaire makes you interesting. Please do keep alluding to your sex life as though it makes you a more interesting person, and by all means, assume that your sexuality is the secret true of your being. I will have to accept your contributions to the mediocrity and dullness of the world. The sad reality is that society is cruel, and there are some forms of human cruelty that don't have a safe word.
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| "Ha! For a moment there, I thought I was in 50 Shades of Grey." |
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