Dirty Talk?

If you have read any of my other blog posts you will have learned that when it comes to talking about sex - or hanky-panky - I am no good.

But as I get older, and write more about my experiences with chaps, I must perhaps learn to stop being such a girl and face up to the fact that SEX plays a part in some if not most of these momentous man related incidents. Perhaps I fear those reading this, mainly my mum, knowing more about something that is quite private. But thinking about it me ma has actually come to share a LOT of information with me over the last few years, so let's just call it even.

I want to talk about dirty talk. Do women do it? Do they enjoy it, do they mean it?

Perhaps I have never had it done properly to me. A partner of the past once whispered remarks in my ear so gross that it actually put me off sex with him. I made a cup of tea instead and told him to stop watching so much porn and wash his dirty little mouth out. (Which actually was the closest I got to dirty talk with him.)

Personally, I have never been any good at dirty talk, and perhaps the supressed feminist in me (she's there somewhere but I do try to avert the term) thinks it wouldn't be a thing if it wasn't for the extreme porn industry. As a believer in actions speaking louder than words, I don't see why spontaneous sordid comments when they are already in action.

Don't get me wrong, despite my prudish tendencies I am happy to experiment and more than happy to respect a chaps suggestions to spice things up in the bedroom (Yes, that's what I said, spice things up.)

During a recent sexual episode (I'm terrible I know) I was asked ‘What do you like to be called?’ I cringingly replied with my own name…’Chelsea…Chelsea will do just fine.’ Well what was I mean to say? Pussy Galore?? Or Ivanna Hump? 'Silly bitch?' I don't know, I’m just no good.

In another instance, (yes there’s more) I was asked what it was I wanted them to do to me?. I clearly didn't  understand the question because what we were already doing was clearly what I wanted. '

This just fine, Thankyou.'

I thanked him? As he sniggered, I realised that perhaps was thinking more along the lines of a spanking or a hair pull, or maybe even a bit of a neck choke. Which to be honest, is fine if your a fifty shades of shit fanatic, but I'm no submissive and prefer my hair being ruffled by means of good sex, not someone tugging on it because that's what they saw a girl pretend to enjoy on a free porn website. And I also much prefer my neck being kissed, rather than slightly throttled, making my sex noises sound like a gargling fucking hyena.

And what a unique and uncomfortable situation that was; to previously be having quite a nice time only to suddenly be made to feel the size of the orgasm you weren’t now going to have.

I’ve got a bit better over the years; but only really non-verbally. At least this way it gives me a bit of time to sit down and think about what to say rather than blurt something ridiculous out and completely kill the mood: 'Yeah, that feels real good you sexy little wanker.' 

Nevertheless, it always terrorises me when I click the send button because I know that I’m the kind of person who will send a text to the last person in the world that should ever receive it. And I’d still rather not bother; I end up sounding like an amateur porn star who doesn’t speak much English. I just think why bother with the trouble when you can have the real thing? And then again, thinking about the last suggestive text I sent I don't think I can even label myself an amateur pornstar:

'I can't wait to come round later and give you a ruddy good seeing to xxx.'

One thing I've never quite understood is dirty pictures. Firstly, because lets be honest guys, it is difficult to take a flattering picture of your own aroused selves’ right? And secondly, because I've never once received a picture and quickly had to dash off to the loo to relieve myself over a picture message taken at an awkward angle of a quite angry looking penis.

And of course, there are the dangers of snoopers, hackers and post-break up avengers.  I'd rather not have others see me try to look sexy in a pair of carefully selected frilly knickers pushing my arms together to force quite a pathetic cleavage.

I also become confused when they ask what you're wearing?
Like you always ball around in a silk slip dress, nipple tassels and stockings.

One time I lied and said I was naked ( I wasn't, slipper socks and Primark special fleece pyjamas,) to an ex who'd sent me my first ever dirty picture. In fact I didn’t even believe it was his until I recognised the carpet. He captioned 'Can you do something about this?' suggesting that I should return the favour, I knew it wasn't only me that would have received this request, he'd never left any of his other ex's alone and we all had contacts that made us aware of this.

So I lifted my arm, and took a sneaky snap of a… Heinz baked bean (I went to the trouble of opening a new tin.) He was not amused at all and responded calling me a 'dick.' I preferred the dick comment to the dick pic that's for sure.

So, as you can read, I’m no pro at this sort of thing. I don't mind trying new things but can't seem to take it very seriously. What does everyone else think? Am I being too much of a prude? Should I embrace a generation, fifty shades, of chains and whips ? They do, after all, excite Rihanna (much more than say,sticks and stones.) I don't see the difference really but maybe I'm just old fashioned?  


Rhi's Words said...

I'm a master of dirty talk. I do adore your blog and laugh out loud at your posts! They are so relatable.
Have a peak at my blog?


With love Rhi x

Melissa Reynolds-Lawrence said...

Chelsea, I totally agree with this. I suddenly get all mumbly and British - it's quite awkward. If it's only doing it for one half of the party, why bother with it? x