Q: Sex between my beloved and me doesn’t blow my mind. But we’re comfortable and confident together. Can sex ever get better?
A: No one ever said comfort and confidence are cinematic. The infamous dark side to eroticism is that it very often spikes in the presence of Mr. Wrong. “I had a peak experience once,” a young goddess tells me “With Todd, the galaxy’s television repairman. He sometimes showed up when he promised, but usually he did not. That sex was good beyond belief. I was insanely jealous and always off guard: Would he show? Would he be nice to me? Would he be stoned? I sometimes think those weren’t orgasms I had, but wild panic attacks that shot through my genitals.”
Many women equate great sex with rotten guys (The Latin root of the word “passion” is passio, after all, which means “to suffer.”) But the kind of experiences you can have in long-term relationships with a good man ultimately beats the bad guys, for the simple reason that raging anxiety, uncertainty and fear ultimately morph into a murderous brew that quite literally poisons sex. Not for awhile, mind you, but absolutely surely at some point. Whereas erotic peaks fueled by meaning and happiness, simmering along in emotional and physical safety, tend to build, not self-destruct. They’re more global, physically; finding expression in the openness of your body. They last longer, derived as they are from a series of emotional as well as physical connections, to your past as well as to your lover. Reaching meaningful erotic heights thrive not on danger, but on history, resonance–that is, all of you and all of him. These are erotic peaks from which you cannot fall off. Okay, they may not be as wildly intense (they won’t feel like panic attacks shooting through your genitals, maybe) but you won’t have to check your jewelry drawer to see if it’s all there, either.