Call Me Maybe. But Give me an Hour and a Half.

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The other night as I was getting ready for a late night rendezvous, it dawned on me how frustrating it is being a female.

For men, a late night rendezvous maybe involves a shower, spraying a bit of deodorant,  grabbing some condoms and that’s it.

For a female, it’s so much more complicated.

First, the shower, then washing the hair, shaving the legs and any other bits that may need it. (Because lets face it, if you’re up for a late night booty call, it’s probably been a while since your lady bits have had any love or attention).

After the shower, is the tedious task of blow drying the hair, to make it appear as though you naturally have beautifully silky smooth hair.  Then after toning and moisturising the face, there is the long process of applying moisturiser to the rest of the body.

Once we have sprayed ourselves with deodorant and an array of perfumes, we then have to move on to strategically applying make up.  Depending on what kind of rendezvous this is, it can vary, but most of the time at 11.30pm at night, its the kind of make up that gives the impression that you haven’t put any effort in and that your eyelashes really are as black and long as they appear and your skin as flawless as porcelain.

Ok so if that isn’t enough, we then have to figure out what lingerie – once again, many considerations to be had here… and although the granny undies with bunnies on them are cute and comfy, if there is one thing women have learnt it is, BEAUTY IS NOT COMFORTABLE… therefore the silky kind of panties get a special thought along with any skimpy g string and whether you decide to wear a bra or not really depends what goes on over the top.  Normal clothes? A satin night gown? nothing? See if it was up to me and I didn’t care so much about my appearance before sex, I would totally go with my oversize Peter Alexander nightie… but… apparently cuddly little animals and pink and yellow just aren’t sexy enough to appeal to my inner vixen.

By the time this whole process is through you’ve spent the better part of 2 hours for what is probably going to be a maximum of half an hour of pleasure, if that.

Although I’m not saying it’s not worth it, hey the big O is worth whatever it takes…

Then I have the concern of the morning after… if I’m going to put in this much effort for a night of pleasure, why would I go and waste  it all in the morning… as discussed already, I snore… I’m pretty sure I dribble on myself.. and I look like a drugged up prostitute in the morning at my BEST.

So the question is  – who are we doing this for?  I like to think myself, because there is no way I would ever go to that much effort for a guy.  Hell ask any of my exes… after I’ve got him, the tracky dacks come out, the hair is always in a messy bun and if I can avoid brushing my teeth for an extra 5 minutes in the morning, I WILL damnit!

When it comes to casual sex though, I like to feel sexy, I like to look sexy and I like a guy to be begging me for my touch.  Whether I look like Kate Upton or Susan Boyle… I’m not sure.. but I feel sexy and that’s what matters (I think).

But there are some days, I just feel so deflated… I don’t want to have to go to this much effort just so I feel worthy of having sex with another human being.  I almost want a home delivery service of oral pleasure and sex. One that requires very little input by me and requires no conversation.  One where I can just lay in bed, eat a bowl of ice cream during the foreplay then orgasm, go to sleep and wake up fresh and in my comfiest underwear and jarmies.

Maybe this is a business venture someone should invest in?

Home delivered sex and ice cream.


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