SLIP INTO THE CLOSET
One night during junior year, my boyfriend and I managed to get kicked out of a pizza place, an arcade, and the parking lot behind the public library for what you might call "public indecency." Goaded by hormones that knew no limits, we weren't discouraged. We drove out of town and turned off at the first field we came to, heading straight into the waist-high grass, where we could finally grope each other in peace. Having no idea where or when we'd get our hands on one another was thrilling in itself. It made us spontaneous and brave. We were constantly on the lookout for empty closets, dark corners, and seldom-used stairwells.
Somewhere between then and now, most of us have stopped viewing any place but the bedroom as a viable hookup location, but those little nooks are still there, waiting to be used for all sorts of naughty purposes. All it takes is a quick nudge into the coat-check room and you and your date will be rocketing back to the Junior Ring Dance, circa 1989.
EXPLOIT HER SWEATER
For a woman, wearing a soft sweater without a bra is one of the great simple pleasures of life. The fabric gently gliding over bare breasts is cozy and erotic at the same time, and it made my high-school boyfriends crazy with desire to run their hands over my pink fuzzies.
Cuddly tops, flowing silk skirts, fishnet stockings: They all feel as good to our skin lying underneath as they do to your hands. And don't underestimate the thrill of pure, simple cotton. "Having soft cotton panties between my body and a man's fingers is absolute heaven," says Anna. Our most tender parts can be extremely sensitive, and sometimes indirect contact is even more pleasurable than skin-on-skin. As it was at the make-out party, so it is right now: Women still love to be felt up both above and below the belt. Slowly at first, with caressing fingers, and then with increasing pressure and plenty of that blessed thing called friction.
QUIT WHILE IT'S HOT
I remember the heart-thumping panic I felt when the clock on the dashboard revealed that it was 11:55 PM, which meant I had less than five minutes to untangle myself from my date, reassemble my outfit, and hustle home before curfew. Having to stop cold when my body was at the height of arousal was painful and I'm sure it hurt my boyfriend even more than it hurt me. But, oooh, did it hurt so good. It left us wanting... no, desperate, for more. The carryover horniness was the ultimate aphrodisiac.
And now, delayed gratification certainly still has its perks. Recently, when I decided to go home alone after a hot-and-heavy date that involved X-rated behavior in the back of a cab, I spent the next three days thinking of nothing but him. Instead of walking out of his apartment in a literally anticlimactic state, I dwelled on the memory of our chemistry and the imagination of what might happen next. It all became magnified in my mind until I was convinced that we had something special, something out of this world. And when that wish was fulfilled, guess what: We did.
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Men's Health Philippines - September 2005 Issue
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Can we help loosen these knots?
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