Why does my dirty talk just sound so… clean?

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I’m a fantastic conversationalist. I can talk to pretty much anyone about almost anything. But when it comes to dirty talk in the bedroom, everything just sounds so wrong.

I did a quick poll of the office and there’s a general consensus that dirty talk is actually quite challenging for a lot of people. It doesn’t just roll off the tongue.

I am particularly jealous of people that can turn unsexy words into dirty talk. If, like me, you spent the entire Easter long weekend re-watching the first half of Outlander, then you’ll know what I’m talking about. Every time Jamie says the word “Sassenach” I have a positively uncomfortable physical reaction. It’s a boring word. And a somewhat offensive term for ‘English person’, usually used by people from Scotland. But when Jamie in Outlander says it with that gruff, Scottish accent, I die. I’m done. That’s it. I basically have an orgasm every time he says it. Or it at least paves the way to one. How is it possible that Jamie can make this totally unsexy word have such an impact? Whereas my awkward ramblings about wanting him to put the thing in the place has no effect…

I’ve tried dirty talk a couple of times but I just can’t do it. I think it’s because I don’t have complete confidence in what I’m saying. It may also have something to do with the fact that when the blood that is supposed to be rushing to my brain goes to my nether regions instead, I have zero control over what comes out of my mouth. Or maybe I spend way too much time thinking about my impending dirty talk, so my attempts at sexual prowess just come out sounding boring and way too factual than I intended, to the point where it’s like I’m giving a lecture on anatomy. And we all know how sexy anatomy is…

In the heat of the moment, I sometimes find myself thinking, “I should say something sexy!” And then I think about it for too long and my heart rate gets elevated and my hands get sweaty and I start staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and then all of a sudden I say…

“Did you know that there’s a tiny Australian mammal that has so much sex in a period of a few weeks that it basically disintegrates?!”

At this point, the little minions in my head have all frozen in shock and are face-palming themselves and muttering, “She just can’t be left alone!” Then comes my attempt at entering the recovery zone.

“So like…want to make me disintegrate… baby?”

And then we’re in the end zone and my partner and I and the minions in my head are laughing because, really, WHY am I ever left to my own devices? And then we’re high-fiving because, dirty talk aside, that wasn’t all that bad, you know?

Is dirty talk your thing? Teach me your ways! Comment below…I beg you.

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