My husband thinks foreplay consists of suddenly shoving his hands down my underwear. I’ve had his IQ tested and he surprisingly doesn’t fall into the mentally impaired range, so I’m beginning to suspect this is a genetic defect that resides on the Y chromosome. Is there any way he’ll learn the fine balance between foreplay that’s either too short or so long that I fall asleep?
Dear Frigid Midge,
Ah, foreplay. As in “the opening act,” “the warm-up,” “the ‘Jesus, Harold, let’s get this show on the road so I can get back to Grey’s Anatomy before Izzy dies.'” Unfortunately, it’s a dilemma that’s come between lovers for centuries. In fact, according to reliable sources, even fair Juliet used to get angry with her swain Romeo for suddenly shoving his paws down her reinforced chastity belt and grunting, “Thoust ready for the big one, baby?” (Note: Reliable sources = Wikipedia.)
My first suggestion is to try what’s always worked for me: Put on some lingerie that doesn’t highlight your “problem” areas, light a few candles, get some Marvin Gaye going, then, when the stage is set and you’re primed for a night of animal lovin’, simply close your eyes and pretend that your husband is a youngish, slightly more talented Brad Pitt without the seven kids in tow.
Another thing you can try, however, is Dr. Laura Berman’s “Foreplay Map.” Just print it out, write your name on one sheet and your partner’s on the other and think about what gets you in the mood. On your sheet, label body parts in the order you like to be touched. On the other sheet, label areas in the order you like to touch your partner. Have your partner do the same and compare the results. Then, simply lock the door and spend a few hours seeing what you’ve learned until you both get a passing grade.
So, good luck, Midge. Remember, when it comes to a night of love, it’s all about communication. And sometimes, three shots of whiskey when nobody’s looking.