Sex is a feast for the senses.

Oh, she does like to state the obvious, doesn’t she? Bear with me, it’s going somewhere. That blithely trite observation stems from a (blithe and untrite) conversation I had with a friend (hi, Mike!) last week. In which we had touched upon the importance of humour in sex. Of not taking the activity, or yourself, in deadly earnest.

Ah, the first flush of youth! I’m so glad I’m not in you any more. Remember your first time? Your second? Did you suffer The Questions? You know … Am I doing this right? Is it supposed to be like this? Do I look stupid? Do I look fat? Does sex make my butt look big? Did I just fart? Tell me I didn’t just fart. Oh, God, I just farted. I want to die. Oh. Oh, I think he’s done now. Should I be coming?

(I’m not saying I suffered The Questions. I’ve just heard it’s pretty common…)

And even after you get over any initial anxiety, your insecurity about your inexperience drives you to pretend you’re not — either uncertain or inexperienced. And farting really is a disaster. And if someone should actually laugh after the disaster? Total humiliation. Total.

Thank God you get over that. So my friend and I are talking about the place of humour in sex.

“The best sounds,” he says, “are orgasmic screams … and giggles.”

Who can argue that? Well, we don’t all of us scream, of course. Some of us are more groaners than screamers, but I take his point. The best sex includes physical bliss on an undercurrent of cheerful trust with the occasional outburst of hilarity. There’s the mystical union variety, too, but whoever said spirituality precluded joy doesn’t really ‘get’ the concept. So, screams and giggles. I can accept that.

Except …

“What about groans and sighs?”
“Or even the occasional slosh and slurp?”
“Exactly. Who can pick just one or two?”
“And then there are all the other senses…”

Which got me to thinking about my favourite sights, sounds, smells, tastes, textures… Which vary with my mood, my partner’s mood, how much time we have, what I’ve been reading, how many kids are in the house, how tired I am, my time of the month, what we had for dinner, whether the roof needs reshingling… (Life is just not neatly sectioned, you know?)

Point being, it’s hard to pick a favourite scent or vision or feel or taste.

But if you had to, right now, pick one favourite from each of the five senses, knowing it only has to be valid for the next ten minutes … what would it be?

(And if you’re curious, mine, good only for this particular moment in time, are in the comments.)