Groat in the sac
Culture / September 29, 2010
Come on, baby. It’s my birthday
By Jeff Groat [lifestyle bureau chief]
What a glorious day it is when your birthday comes around each year. You get gifts, you get money, you get 67 facebook messages.
But the thing that I look forward to the very, very most is birthday sex.
I’m another year older and another year wiser and another year poorer at university – but I don’t give a shit, I’m getting birthday sex.
You see, once a year, on a given day, you have the right – the responsibility – of having it your way.
You’re entitled to anything you damn well please (we’re talking sex here) and it’s up to your partner to satisfy.
Like dressing up like big furry animals? Of course you do.
Want to involve some hot fudge and marshmallows? Eat that shit.
Want to do it soccer-style (no hands)? Me too.
Have a thing for Shakespearean dirty-talk? Read A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Seriously, look: “My cherry lips have often kissed thy stones, Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee…”
Birthday sex is a time to let loose. Think of it like going out with your friends on your birthday. You get one night a year where people not only expect you to drink way too much and get a little sloppy, they help you get to that point.
So, on your special day, make the effort to push the boundaries, try something different, something that on any normal day might make things a little awkward or might be taken as completely selfish.