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When I think about Sex with the Ex I have an almost pavlovian response in the form of a Biggie line dancing into my brain.
Some say the X make the sex spec-tacular Make me lick you from yo’ neck to your back, then ya Shivering, tongue delivering Chills up that spine, that ass is mine
I was never quite certain if he was in fact talking about sex with an ex, or sex on Ex(stacy), but alas he’s dead so we’ll never be sure. Anyway, both sound delicious, Mr Notorious.
Perhaps my personal correlation is responsible for evoking a rather salacious perception of sex with the ex. In my mind it’s naughty, potentially damaging and bound to be an emotional landmine waiting to explode, so naturally I’m a fan. I was genuinely shocked to learn that not everyone shares the same lackadaisical attitude towards the activity. I thought it was a rite of passage, the inevitable oopsie and perhaps the opportunity for one last (spicier than usual) roll in the sheets. In fact some of us are vehemently opposed to the activity, calling it a “funeral for the relationship” (my favourite sentiment), or a futile step backwards with someone who ultimately doesn’t deserve to experience your $48 per spray Le Labo that is intimately dabbed on your skin.
Sex with your Ex is kind of like a stop at a dirty roadhouse on the way to your destination. You don’t need to stop, even if you’re slightly peckish, because the nutritious meal you need is at the end of the trip and if you can just exhibit a slice of self control you’ll feel better for not stopping.
Pull up and peruse the menu and you’re faced with a greasy (maybe momentarily delicious), saucy treat that won’t be healthy in the long run, could make you feel queasy and probably will be glazed with some type of regret.
Disclaimer: Whether you’re just cruising the specials or choose to indulge please, please don’t be obtuse. Having sex with your ex is not anywhere close to getting back together. Nor is it likely to initiate the type of conversation and effort that you would need to attempt to rekindle a relationship. Do not confuse physical enjoyment and affection for intention.
(S)ex-tacular: The Menu
Intoxicated slipsies
Bumped in to your ex after 17 Pina Colada’s? Most humans would have sex with their ex after 17 Pina Coladas, hell I would have sex with a tree. I hate to be the bearer of bad (and sober) news but the undeniable connection and chemistry felt with ex is due to said bottomless beverages that you have inhaled. Further warnings apply to any type of cocktail with umbrella garnish, a holiday, a tan, a sandy romp or an alfresco escapade. It’s not intent to mend the relationship with better sex, it’s exhibitionism, adrenaline and momentarily reigniting lust.
But I SAW him/her:
At our very core humans want to connect with others. Humans are also very visual creatures and we join feelings and images to memories naturally. When you accidentally bump into an ex at the pub/gym/supermarket/yoga it’s normal to be yanked back into memories and thoughts of them. It’s not divine intervention if you receive a text or some social media attention from them. You saw someone, you thought about them. You do not need to follow up. You do not need to catch up for coffee/sushi or oral sex. End.
X marks the spot
Has one of you cheated and promptly yelled a string of expletives at the other? Chances are you will be having sex. And it’s sure as shit not to celebrate their acceptance of your apology. They’re not forgiving you. They’re either finally jolted into the realisation of what they had, or they’re trying to mark their territory via a very carnal display of possession. You can file this under angry fucking.
You are my favourite pyjamas sex
Chances are you ended on pretty good terms. Perhaps your relationship came to a natural end, you outgrew each other or both got bored. When you are still on good terms with your ex it makes it even more difficult to detach as they’re still available for comfort. Maybe you still spend your Sunday nights together wrapped up in Netflix and your favourite local Thai takeaway and as easy as it is to carry on that habit, it’s just as easy to roll onto one another and offer intimacy as the most poignant mark of comfort.
Gone girl
Revenge sex is never revenge, at least for the instigator. Desperate attempts to make revenge sex happen usually send a very strong message that you are most definitely NOT over your ex. Even if you want to appear aloof, savage and ridiculously sexy, it’s surface level and after the fact the aftermath will leave you deflated and defeated.
Please don’t go-sex with the ex
This is the juicy one. It’s often fuelled by the heaviness of desire wrapped around unrequited love. Or it comes from a farewell that you’re trying to avoid. One of you is leaving the country, the state, the relationship or the entanglement and you need to say goodbye. Deep down buried under lots of complexities, layers of bs, ego and pretence neither of you want to sever the bond but alas, Shakespeare has made it so. This is the sex with the ex that is poetic, and thats because undoubtedly there’s a twisted type of passion remaining. In fact any love that is truly consummated can never be romantic. Think about that.
Gimme gimme that closure (sex)!
“Closure” as a concept does not exist. It’s just a word that we use to signal that we don’t understand something but want to. With that in mind nobody else can give you “closure”. It’s not a key or a mix tape or a letter or homemade gnocchi. Closure can come as a result of clarity delivered through communication from another human but ultimately any realisation (and acceptance) is yours alone to make. In any case, taking turns touching each other with the lights off will not help you gain clarity or “closure”. In fact it will fuck you right back up and push you further from your God; Closure.
Drip drop, coffee in morning.
Had sex with an ex whilst freshly broken up and still healing? You best believe you better get your ass out of there and HOME. This is not a Miguel song, pillow talk will not turn into coffee in the morning. Your ex is not painting your love in vibrant hues. You need to (politely excuse yourself), get your possessions and go directly home as fast as possible, especially if you have been drinking. You might be lucky and escape any jolts of regret as you text your mates in the Uber home (“haha it was like totally hot”) but you have roughly T-45 minutes until you are questioning every fibre of your being and running a tighter autopsy of the event than NCIE would. For that reason you need to be in a safe and comfortable setting, preferably with assorted comforting textures, teas, Netflix and Valium. Start praying.
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