Last night, I kneeled between my husband’s legs as he played video games with his friends. “Don’t make a sound,” I told him as I pulled down his sweatpants and made sure he left his microphone unmuted.
The night before that, my husband pressed my naked body up against our living room window—knowing full well the neighbors could steal a glance at any moment.
Here’s the thing: I’m a legit exhibitionist, and the thought of having sex in a bed makes my skin crawl. So until our sex life can return to all its pre-coronavirus glory (you know, sneaking into a deserted hallway outside a party or standing on a hotel balcony), these little pseudo-public trysts will have to do for now. Because I really, truly cannot have sex in bed. Seriously: I haven’t done it in bed in nearly three years.
Ever since college, hooking up in public places was just something I did. It was like my thing. Cars, pools, balconies, in a canoe, on my boss’s desk, in the middle of the road—I’ve done it everywhere and I’m always looking for the next place.
Any place will do…well, except the most common place: in bed.
And while public sex seems–and is (lol)—utterly illegal, unhygienic, and unromantic, the truth is: I just can’t get off in a bed. Which makes this whole COVID-19 trapped-inside-indefinitely thing that much more difficult for my sex life.
It’s hard to explain, but the literal thought of rolling around under the covers makes my skin crawl. It makes me nauseated, which is really saying something because I’ve been brought to an orgasm in some pretty dumpy places.
For me, bed is the place where my husband and I cuddle and read and sleep and maybe drunkenly eat pizza if we’ve gone a little too hard on the White Claws. But for take-me-now, I-can’t-wait-anymore fucking? Yeah, I’d rather not. Actually, at this point, I just…won’t.
At first, I assumed something was wrong with me. As a married 20something who grew up with movies like The Notebook, I felt super weird for being so repulsed by the idea of making love on a fluffy king-size bed with my husband. But I couldn’t get aroused in bed; I couldn’t picture myself having sex in a bed. Even when people have “bed sex” in movies or in porn, I’m low-key disgusted.
But the day I realized I was an exhibitionist, my life changed for the better.
No, I don’t flash strangers and get off by their shock, as the psychological definition suggests. I more fall into the category of people you’d see at sex clubs or nude beaches. You know, the person who is in the center of the dance floor making out or something. An audience turns me on. The risk of getting caught is my ultimate aphrodisiac.
The problem (other than potentially getting thrown into jail for indecent exposure at some point) is that coronavirus is completely robbing me of my sex life as I knew it. Pre–social distancing, the only thing I had to worry about was whether or not someone would catch my husband and me in a compromising position—and honestly, that thrill is more than half the fun.
But now, without crowded bars full of strangers or wedding receptions with first dances I’d miss because I was bent over a sink, I feel…empty. And my shame sets in.
My husband loves me. He’s hot and compassionate and silly and good. So among this pandemic, and all the unknown that we have yet to unravel, why isn’t that enough for me?
I think it’s easy to fall down the guilt and shame spiral if what you are or aren’t into is outside the norm. And for me, it’s even easier when you’re stuck inside for weeks on end with your unsexy duvet cover taunting you and your libido.
But still, as everyone and their clitoris knows, having an active sex life is extremely important for overall well-being—and may be the only thing getting my husband and me through this pandemic. Even if we have to be a lil…well, creative.
So while sex in the time of coronavirus might be different, you better believe a pandemic isn’t going to stop me from getting off. Even inside, my hubs and I have yet to run out of places to bone each other—and no, none of them involve a bed.
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Rachel Varina is a full-time freelance writer covering everything from the best vibrators (the Lelo Sona) to the best TV shows (The Vampire Diaries). She has over 10 years of editorial experience with bylines at Women's Health, Elite Daily, Betches, and more. She lives in Tampa, Florida, but did not feed her husband to tigers. When she's not testing out new sex toys (100+ and counting so far!), she's likely chilling with her dogs or eating buffalo chicken dip. Ideally at the same time. Follow her on Instagram and Twitter.
