When Office Sex Become “HO-hum”

For the squeamish of heart, I would skip this post entirely.

I never thought I would live to say this, but office sex has become routine. Mundane. Run of the mill.  HO-hum. Bordering (need I say it?) boring.

You’re probably thinking, “Why doesn’t she just do it in her house? Doesn’t she have a bed?”

For the uninitiated, yes, we do have a bed. Several of them, now that many are empty because of nest evacuation by the little birdies. We also have a hide-a-bed in the basement, but there’s a brigade of centipedes down there, and I don’t spend much more time other than running to the laundry room and back.

We also live in a house that is largely windowed with no window treatments. The upside is that the cat doesn’t have to scratch his way up the drapes to get to a window sill. The downside is that everyone, including God, the meter reader and the retired doctor neighbor down the street can see inside straight to the back yard.

Office sex used to be exhilarating. There was a bit of taboo in having sex almost in public, along with incorporating inspiring moves among the furniture usually not conducive to sex. (Ever do it in a standard office chair? That takes some imagination.) We would hurriedly clean up. Sometimes, we would forget the box of Kleenex and have to run willy-nilly (heh, heh… willy?) down the hall to get something to absorb body fluids. (The poor leather couch!) Then there is the fact that we buy Febreze by the case, just to get rid of the lingering odor of sweat and stuff. We own the building, so we can do whatever we want. The business doesn’t officially open until 9, so we would usually make hot nasty love between 8 and 8:30. Our walls are paper thin, but that psychologist who leases the space below my husband’s conference room is never there at that time of day anyway.

Yesterday, while putting my clothes back on, I thought, “Hmm, this doesn’t feel quite as exciting as it used to.” Perhaps it’s because we’ve overused the space. It used to be kind of thrilling in a weird way when the one employee who has been trying to catch us in the act shows up at 8 a.m. to see what we’re doing. It was quite hair raising when the workmen came at 8 to make repairs on the roof and they weren’t scheduled until 9.

I’m thinking a change of venue might be in order. Hmm… I wonder if we can get into a nearby now-closed sports arena?

I’m opening up the floor to suggestions.

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8 Responses

  1. Have sex in your blog?

    Oh, you do already. Does it enhance?

  2. Mr. Modesty, I don’t really have sex in my blog. I just write about it once in a while. I think it would be too weird to actually do the act while typing, although I do know of some people who do that. I could never get into phone sex (even with the hubby while dating from three states away), and I certainly can’t get into internet sex.

  3. I have a colleague here who obsessively compulsively wipes the keyboards and telephones with little damp cloths. She showed me the icky wiped-up evidence once. Yuk. It put me right off any kind of sex involving phones or computers.

    But I can highly recommend sex in a public library (better choose a section which doesn’t get used too often though – as a Classics scholar I had easy access to whole stacks which hadn’t seen human traffic since about 1890). 🙂

  4. All I know is that I’m never touching anything in your office.

  5. And I’m thinking that you’re going to be elected to sign up for The Bulge Report. Since you’re so adventerous and everything.

  6. truce,

    I work for a public library system. I heard a librarian say once she walked in on a couple in engaged in sex n a small “study” room. She was so startled, she blurted out to the couple, “Do you have a library card?”

    The gentleman replied, “Yes,” and continued his activity.

  7. Woo hoo. Whodathunk it? Sex in a library? There’s one right down the street! Thanks for the tip!

  8. So far my best brag on this involves being in a Honda Civic on the lower sections of the West Side Highway in NYC where there are traffic lights. My friend wanted to indulge my fantasy of sex from stop light to stop light. There were a lot of cars, vans, and trucks surrounding us. Since it was in the West Village, I don’t think we were that unusual. Obviously, we are not married nor have we repeated that. Last year, we had sex in a dark parking lot which was a first for me and quite a thrill.

    The boredom you speak about seems to be from routines and no surprises. This supports my contention that the brain is a sexual organ. I suggest exploring the telephone option and seeing if you can overcome your reluctance. Maybe on different phones in the office. Or one of you on a cell phone in the car. heh.

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