So I laughed during what can best be described as Foreplay. It started off as a snigger, and then when I thought about it a bit more I broke into uncontrollable giggling. While the boy was left a little puzzled, a little hurt, (he checked his breath just to be sure) he must have also thought I was a proper asylum escapee. After I’d calmed down though and he looked like he was about to leave; I decided to lie and say he had tickled me and suffer a strange look from him rather than even attempt to describe the source of my amusement. It would have been beyond the poor boy anyway.
Foreplay has become so predictable. I didn’t realize it until that very moment when boy said “fuck, my back hurts, do you massage?”. And that was what set off the snigger. See, I just realized that pretty much every ‘encounter’ I’ve had has started off with back rubs. And not just me, pretty much all my female friends have had to deliver orthopedic assistance as a sexual entree.
I’m guessing though that if I was a guy it would be the logical move. It would a) if the girl agreed to the backrub give him a clear signal she was interested b) immediately make tactile all the pheromones on a frenzied flying spree around them c) give him an opportunity to make a comfortable move without the shock of sudden touch and d) enjoy a massage of course!
The problem of course arises when they try it on a 25 year old who has had it happen to her so many times now she sniggers. Whatever happened to romance and witty repartee after which you threw yourselves at each other in various fits of consuming passion? Tut tut.
And back rubs are really unfair to the woman as well. What on earth do we get out of it? Maybe a compliment on massaging skills or two, though knowing what is to come after the massage, men are tactfully always praiseworthy and your never quite sure if you are that good or not.
After the first time, foreplay becomes even more predictable. EVERY girl will tell you that she immediately knows her boyfriend wants to have sex when he holds her hand and rubs his thumb over the skin between her thumb and her pointer finger. It's like genetically transferred morse code.
If foreplay is already this boring when your single and hot, I’m mortified at the prospect of marital foreplay. A married (for 2 years) friend of mine said that now her husband simply squeezes her arm and she knows its time. Like Pavlov’s little dog and bell, like Kasauuti Ghar Ghar ki at 8 pm, like an egg timer…quite literally.