O Bed; O Enemy of Thine!

Hello there Lovers!

Anyone snag an Irishman last week? Sadly my studies prevented me from trawling the streets for a good shamrock or two, but I live vicariously through all you ladies who got some loving. To be sure to be sure!

In other much more disappointing news Lovers, I have discovered my continued sexual journey is being thwarted by one who is supposed to be my friend!

This is no small issue that can be solved with a simple unfriending on Facebook or a quick smack across the back of the head. No, no, this ‘friend’ aka turncoat is much much closer to me.

I suppose that’s why the betrayal cuts so deep.

It’s my bed!

That’s right, my own bed is working against me, the spring filled bastard!

We started out on such good terms. I still remember the day I brought him home from IKEA.

We had our first fight on the stairs as he simply refused to go up them willingly, but with some gentle cajoling and the help of a much stronger third party, we made it up eventually.

That first night was magical. The mixture of fresh linen, the slight indent on my hand from the alan key and the soft sigh of the mattress as I belly-flopped onto it.

Ah, heaven.

Sure we had our problems, what bed doesn’t? I would forgive his occasional squeakiness and he would tolerate me not washing the sheets for weeks.

And everybody would be happy. Slightly musty smelling, but happy.

It worked. It was nice.

So to find out now that the whole time he has slowly been conspiring against me, well it fills me with a sorrow so deep not even all the dirty sheets in the world could mop up my tears.

So what evil could my place of slumber, sex and several other daytime activities have caused you’re wondering?

Well, that small squeakiness that I so happily forgave has now morphed into a catastrophically loud mood killer.

To date my bed has cost me five, that’s right five, perfectly wonderful orgasms!

You’re probably thinking, “so what Claire? What’s a little squeak when it comes down to sexy time?”

This is no little squeak Lovers. When I lie in my bed at night I attempt to time my rolls with a gust of wind or a thunder clap. I wait until a loud pedestrian meanders down my street or a car with a hole in the exhaust screams past before I attempt to turn over. Because when I do, dear god the noise! It’s as if I’ve stapled a pig’s ass together and sat back to enjoy the ambiance. The squeal, the squeak, the creak!

These days I can’t even let go of a particularly powerful fart without the bed protesting!

A squeaky bed is not sexy Lovers.

Don’t get me wrong, a little creak here and there can set a nice tone and or pace to the process we like to call lurve making, but when the bed is drowning both of you out and taking centre stage it is most off putting!

To the credit of my bedmates, they make every effort to quiet the beast, but to little effect.

Sometimes they’ll grab onto the end of the bed and try to keep it steady as I bounce around on top of them.

Doesn’t work.

Other times they’ll switch up positions faster than a speeding bullet, covering all angles and sides of the bed. Doggy on the side of the bed. Missionary at the base. Cowgirl in the centre. Spider on the other side. Scissors diagonally across.

Doesn’t work.

Lastly they try the whole levitation sex trick, trying desperately to keep both your torso’s completely off the bed, as if that’s the only part of you the bed registers. A constant stream of “lift your butt up babe,” and “hook your legs around me so I can hold you up without falling out all the time” does nothing to improve the mood and of course;

Doesn’t work.

The only thing that does work? Sex on the floor.

Argh the sweet burn of carpet on the knees!

Much to the chagrin of my housemate, whenever he’s out and about I make full use of his fancy and very comfortable couch. Why waste a perfectly good surface that’s just screaming to be screamed on?

Don’t worry Will I always make them use protection on the couch (because we all know the saying don’t we? Sex is cleaner with a packaged wiener!)

So the big question is, how to solve this most grievous of problems? Sadly I don’t see any solutions in the near future. A new bed is out of the question on my student wages. I don’t think you can crowd fund for a better sex life. I’ll just have to content myself with sex on chairs, couches, floors and any other non abrasive surface I can find for now.

If you have any suggestions though Lovers, I am all ears! Have you been in the same predicament as me? Has your bed literally been twat blocking you? How did you get past the baby pig constantly intruding into your most intimate of moments?

Let me know you sexy sexingtons! Until next time!

Claire xx

Pickup line of the week: Are you butt dialing? Cause I swear that ass is calling me!

PS don’t forget to check out the Facebook page! https://www.facebook.com/howmanyfrogs/

 

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