When you think of vacation sex you think of raspy breathing, disheveled hair, and thank goodness I don’t have to clean this mess up love making. I’m talking about one step below Bunny Ranch sex, where heavy petting is just the tip of the iceberg, and fantasies come to life.
Mmmhmmm… Vacation sex is what fantasies are made of.
The pressure inside Michael had been holding steady around 4000 psi for a solid month in preparation for all of the sexy time we would experience during our honeymoon. Thinking about the triumphant release he would experience while canoodling in the middle of a wine resort made him giddy like a schoolboy watching his first porn.
That is, until he found out his vacation sex plans were… shall we say… riding the crimson wave instead of a Boeing 737 out to California, immediately shutting down his fantasy of daily sexcapades. He had a stern talk with Mother Nature because he doesn’t fish the Red Sea under any circumstance and didn’t appreciate her poor planning. It was an argument he clearly lost because the shedding of my uterus started promptly on our anniversary.
What Michael didn’t realize is that I picked up a secret weapon to get him to the point of begging for more honeymoon ecstasy in between each of his labored gasps. Let me tell ya, ladies, Fresh and Sexy wipes are where it’s at. I showered way more than normal during my honeymoon but even then, I still wanted to freshen up because I wasn’t about to accept any excuses if they involved a lack of foreplay. None. We were on our honeymoon and I demanded the special touch that would result in the entire floor finding out we were honeymooners, if ya know what I mean!
DID VACATION SEX OCCUR?
Yes! Yes! YES!
I have Fresh and Sexy wipes to thank for my post bliss pass out, well… and Michael, of course. And since the release of pressure was of epic proportions, I allowed Michael an extra moment to retrieve his eyes from the back of his head before tossing an after sex wipe at him and demanding he go clean himself up. You see, I don’t engage in post coitous cuddling… ever! The thought of curling up in the hairy, man sweat covered nook while whispering romantic nothings to each other makes me want to hurl because it is such an inefficient use of time. We have cats to fill the cuddling void, and I have work to do.
And with that I join reality again, where sex is scheduled and I go back to work as soon as the feeling of ecstasy consumes our ravaged bodies. Sigh…
Ps. Did you watch the latest episode of Wine with Beavers? I think you might get a kick out the video if you even remotely enjoyed my vacation sex experience. Maybe. I make no promises, but it’s pretty legit.
