Experience,  Opinion

I like my sex like I like my food…

 

I was perusing Twitter this morning and came across this tweet from Jayne Renault.

I love it.

And it got me thinking this morning.

Metaphorically speaking…I like a little spice. And, no surprise, Mr. D likes more heat than I do. I prefer comfort food over exotic cuisine. American and Western European dishes over Asian or Indian or Middle Eastern or….

It doesn’t mean I won’t try those things…or even enjoy them for what they are. I can appreciate something, yet not want to add it as part of my everyday menu.

And when it comes right down to it, I’m not a huge fan of change. I order the same things at the same restaurants. And when I don’t, I’m often disappointed. Occasionally, I get lucky and find something I’ll go back to, but it’s rare. Even trying a new restaurant can set me on edge. I don’t trust what I don’t know.

And I like the things I like to be the same every time. Mostly. A little more of this or a little more of that won’t ruin it for me, but changing something I love too much can disappoint. I expect things to be the way I’ve known them before. I build up anticipation for the known. Like a craving. Throwing in something unexpected can pull me right out of it and I won’t enjoy it as much as I might have, had I had a heads up that the change was coming.

Yeah, I’m not spontaneous.

And I do taste things before adding salt, only adding it to wake up the flavors that already exist in the dish.

Too many flavors can overwhelm me, as well. I like simple.

I will never tire of homemade chicken soup, traditional Thanksgiving dinner, roast/carrots/and potatoes, meatloaf/mashed potatoes/and gravy. I’m that girl…and my ample behind proves it. Bread, cheese, pasta, potatoes, meat, gravy…that’s where it’s at for me.

For example, last night, Mr. D gave me a look I could have read in the dark. My taste buds awoke, knowing the flavors to come and instantly craving them. He rolled toward me, as I rolled toward him. We kissed, tongues circling, lips touching. The way we always do. His hands searched my body, as mine found his, pulling him toward me. My legs spread, expecting his hands…his fingers. And when they found the backside of my clitoris, my body opened and tensed all at the same time. Just like it does almost every time. He sucked and licked and penetrated until I came, and then he mounted me, entered me, and rode me until he came. His cock felt the same. His explosion felt the same. Everything smelled…right. And it felt like home.

Maybe it sounds like a cut to say making love to my husband is like homemade chicken soup. But honestly, it is exactly what I love. No extra salt needed. I know what it will feel like. I know I will like it. I know it will get the job done. I feel safe, and comfortable, and content.

Maybe people do spend too much time trying to spice things up in the bedroom. Maybe we’ve convinced ourselves that it’s necessary. That what we have already isn’t good enough because there are so many other things that might be better out there.

I know some people truly do constantly crave the new. And there is nothing wrong with that. And I get “boredom.” Even I get bored with the same-old, same-old from time to time.

But there is also nothing wrong with being content with what we have.

And when you think about it this way, we can have our cake and eat it, it too. Because there’s no reason we can’t do both: love what we have the way it is, and occasionally try something new.

 


Writing prompt: Use food as a metaphor to describe your sexual preferences.


 

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3 Comments

  • MrsK

    I very much like your analogy; perhaps it isn’t that things are dull at all, simply that we are mixing the wrong flavors:)
    And a good chicken noodle soup is good for more than just the soul ❤

    • Brigit Delaney

      I agree…there are so many good ways to make a dish. Recently we had a chili cook-off at work. 10 different styles, and every one of them was amazing. So…comfort foods are not doomed to being boring.

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