A Little Less Conversation...

Occasionally I fantasize about binding my boyfriend to the bed, moving slowly upwards towards his face, gagging him… to make him shut the fuck up. Dirty chat itself poses no problem to me whatsoever, when it is done well. Unfortunately, this is rarely the case. “I’m gonna put my big fat baby maker inside your hole!”, “I’m gonna fill your ass with my cum, baby. This is how a real man fucks!” or “Daddy’s gonna fill you up, fuck your tight little cunt! He’s gonna make you scream with his big dick!” are just a couple of ways to guarantee you will be getting no sex that night, or possibly ever again. In your life. The latter in particular, given the use of the word ‘Daddy’, in combination with the switch to the third-person narrative.

Regrettably, it is not only in the bedroom where men fail to think before they speak. When a friend of mine got into an argument with her ex-boyfriend, he shouted that one of the main reasons that he was no longer happy in their relationship was because she had never taken his career seriously. He was working full time at Nando’s. (In the lowest possible position, might I add.)

The same friend also once had a drunken argument with a different ex. Afterwards, he headed back to their flat while she chose to stay out. She eventually returned home to find him in an incredibly upset state and, when she questioned what the hell was the matter, he informed her that he’d been so grieved by their argument that he had tried to kill himself… by holding a pillow over his own face for two hours. 

But let’s get back to sex, and ask ourselves, why is it that men assume that spewing an abundance of nonsensical profanities turns us on? What makes it worse is when, sometimes, for added measure, they even attempt to throw a compliment into the mix. ‘Suck me, beautiful’ and ‘Baby, you’re sooo tight’ were two particular favourites of mine.

I must confess however that, when it comes to talking dirty, I too am truly atrocious at it. I get overwhelmed by lexical choice and I develop a stutter to rival that of Gareth Gates (circa 2002). In the end, I admit defeat, and simply smile politely and nod in agreement with whatever lengthy monologue my boyfriend is professing. ‘I’m gonna stick my big hard dick in your dripping cunt’… ‘Ah... yes… me too.’

I think, therefore, that the true problem with dirty chat lies in the linguistics of it. Perhaps, like me, there are many other people who would love to serenade their partner with a mouthful of filth, but get too caught up in the vast amount of word choice. What, for example, do I call my vagina? ‘Cunt’ is too vulgar, ‘pussy’ is unoriginal and ‘vulva’ is just downright horrendous. Men, as always, have it easy. ‘Dick’. How nice and simple and inoffensive.

Maybe, then, the solution to our unintelligible stammering is a good old dirty text message. What’s better, really, than eating your sandwiches on your work break and receiving a message telling you just how hard you’re going to get fucked that evening by your boyfriend’s humongous cock? Plus, this comes with the added bonus of giving you an extended period of time in which to reply. And if you’re really stuck for a response, just Google ‘dirty chat examples’, select one at random and hit send. He’ll like it, trust me.

So men, today’s advice to you? For my sake, please, think before you speak. Worshipping its snugness may sound sexy in your head, but I very much doubt my vagina will be flattered. I don’t spread your legs and commend how wrinkly and pubescent your scrotum is. Take a few deep breaths first, calm yourselves. Know your boundaries. Tell me you want to be inside me, tell me how hard you are for me. Hell, even tell me you want my cum dripping off your face. Just don’t start glorifying my asshole.