As a woman 32 years of age who has spent as much time single as she’s spent attached, boy oh boy do I have tales from the field. (And by “the field,” I mean the casual sex/dating circuit.) One thing I’ve learned we all do from time to time: make weird, embarrassing, outlandish exclamations during sex. The weirdest thing I’ve ever said relates to an early 2019 spanking incident … but I’ll leave it at that, and instead focus on embarrassing anonymous sources instead of myself.
For your enjoyment (and edification?), here’s a roundup of the strangest things I’ve heard during sex.
1. “Weeee!” I knew a man who said “Weee!” every time he ejaculated. Lest you need assistance in picturing exactly what this would have sounded like, imagine a toddler flying down a slide. Imagine his mommy waiting for him at the bottom, encouraging his fun with a loud and hearty “WEEEE!” That, my friend, is exactly what it sounded like.
2. “Ay mate: why don’t I flip you over and rip you up the shitter?” So, I was dating, briefly, an Australian I’d met at a bar. He was winning and adorable in all the ways you’d want an Australian to be winning and adorable. However, this one night we went drinking, and he got drunker than I’d ever seen him, and then – once unclothed and back at my apartment – he asked the aforementioned question: “Ay mate: Why don’t I flip you over and rip you up the shitter?” Suffice it to say, his use of the verb “rip” did not help his cause. I told him “no” and it ended just days later.
3. “That was fucking. Now let’s make love.” I had an old friend I’d met freshman year of college, and years later, at the age of 26, we finally got around to sleeping together. At a certain point during the event, he was hammering away like a jack-rabbit, then suddenly and without warning, he took pause. He stopped. He looked deep into my eyes, took my face in his hands and said, “That was fucking. Now let’s make love,” and at that point, began a slow and dedicated motion to suggest he was trying to reenter the womb.
4. “Pas de bourrée, pas de bourrée, kiss.” I’d been set up on a date with a friend of a friend who worked as a regional musical theater actor. To break the ice, I’d spent the first half of our date trying to get him to do a dance move for me. “Please!” I’d said. “A high kick! Some jazz hands! Something!” He continuously declined. Until, that is, we got back to my place.
“Hey listen,” he’d said. “I think I’ve come up with what dance move I should do for you.”
And then he went, “Pas de bourrée, pas de bourrée, KISS,” while pas de bourrée-ing toward me. If you’re unfamiliar with the term (pronounced “PA-da bou-RAY”), it’s basically the French version of a triplet: Step back, step side, step front. This anecdote, I’ve filed away under the category of “Careful What You Wish For.”