Calico Rudasil is a feature columnist for Sssh.com, the award-winning porn site for women & couples. With over 18 years’ experience under her belt, writing about and for the adult entertainment industry, Calico qualifies as something of a Web Porn Dinosaur; similar to a tyrannosaurus, only with far more attractive arms and a less pronounced overbite.
When I was a young woman, experimenting with new and different sexual positions was much easier than it is for me to do now. One of the primary reasons for this is that my body’s flexibility and core strength just aren’t what they used to be – a pair of facts which probably owes as much to my lifelong sweet-tooth as it does my age.
This doesn’t mean I’m entirely closed to the possibility of trying new positions, just that I need to be cautious in choosing those I attempt.
It’s Not Called “Crème Brulee” Because I Have To Crack Open His Skin, Right?
This week, I spotted a headline which made me think my somewhat hesitant but still extant willingness to try new positions and my love for sweets had come together in serendipitous fashion. “Love morning sex? The creme brulee position promises the perfect start to your day.”
I do love morning sex and whenever I see it on a menu, it’s a serious struggle for me to not order crème brulee for dessert – so this sounded like a winner at first glance.
But then it struck me: When I eat crème brulee, before I can feast on the pudding, there’s this hard, crusty outer layer to crack through. I don’t mind doing that in the context of eating dessert, but if there’s an analogous requirement involved in the crème brulee sexual position, this could have frightening implications for me and/or my partner, depending on the details involved.
Is my husband’s leathery skin the crust here? Please don’t try to tell me it’s my skin – I’m a committed student of the CeraVe school of skin care!
Clearly, more reading is required here.
Uh-Oh, Think I Found A Disqualifying Phrase: “Hard Work”
The more I read about the crème brulee position, the less new it sounds – other than its moniker, which may not be new to others, but is certainly new to me.
As described in the article, to get into the position, “you both need to remain lying down, with the woman’s arms raised above her head, and her legs bent in the knees and moved apart.”
OK, that’s simple enough.
“Then the man hooks one bent leg over her thigh, keeping the other straight.”
Got it. I’ll admit, I’m a little concerned about the implications of this step with respect to my husband’s bum knee – but “no pain no gain,” right?
“Placing his hands on the woman’s hip, the man then penetrates from behind and the sensual move is said to be very deep but without requiring much effort.”
Not much effort; I like the sound of that, too!
“Women can lie back as the man does all the hard work in this very passionate position that leaves his hands free to roam your body.”
Hmm. While I’m sure he wouldn’t mind having his hands free to “roam my body,” I think I’ll leave out the part about my husband being the one who will do “all the hard work” when we achieve this position. This bit of omission usually does the trick when we’re preparing meals, too. He’s way less likely to say yes to having chef’s salad for dinner if I first tell him he’s doing all the cutting and peeling.
“Don’t Sugarcoat It,” Indeed
My one reservation about naming sexual positions after desserts is that in the process of doing so, we’re bound to make certain positions sound appealing, when in truth, trying to get into them is likely going to result in the scheduling of physical therapy sessions for at least one member of a couple.
When it comes to difficult-to-hold positions, for example, I prefer names which imply the sort of difficulty I’m bound to encounter. Take “the zombie,” for example – there’s no way I’m trying a position called that, especially right after binging my way through an entire season of The Walking Dead.On the other hand, I’m just fine with using dessert names for sexual positions, provided the name accurately communicates the relevant complexity or discomfort of the position in question. Just don’t ask me to get into the palmier position, and it’s all good.
Calico Rudasil is a Sssh.com (@ssshforwomen) columnist and Sssh will be on Peeperz for fun times again in the near future, meanwhile why not check us out: