If reading about sex offends you, you may wish to stop reading now.
If reading about public sex offends you, despite being comically disastrous, definitely stop reading now.
If you are still reading, allow me to introduce the Him Tarzan, Her Jane protagonists.
Tarzan: an experienced Country Boy, aka Macho Guy.
Jane: a naive and virginal Big City Girl, aka Yours Truly.
Talk about casting against stereotype. You’d think it should be the other way around—experienced Big City Woman, naive and virginal Country Boy. Not this Tarzan/Jane duo. Tarzan lost his virginity in his early teens. As a good little overprotected teenage Catholic girl, Jane was naive in the extreme when it came to sex and remained a virgin until her wedding night.
Jane’s naiveté knew no bounds. The following incident is a case in point. Jane was chatting with a group of college classmates at lunch. When friend Jean pulled out her makeup bag to freshen her lipstick, she lost her grip on the open bag and it fell to the floor. A thin, flat and round rubbery object rolled out. Jane glanced at it, puzzled, and asked, “How do you put your makeup on with that?” For about three seconds, there was stunned silence, and then the others broke out in raucous laughter. When the laughter finally died, Jean explained to Jane’s bright red face that a diaphragm was a birth control device, not a makeup applicator. The girls never let Jane live it down.
Jane was also naive when it came to public sex. Of course, she knew about some disreputable teens who parked in darkened, out of the way places and fogged up their car windows while doing the nasty in the back seat. Scandalous! Jane wrapped herself in moral superiority and swore she would never do anything so vulgar, inappropriate and obviously illegal.
Never say never. Jane met and wed Tarzan, who had a very different worldview of acceptable places for sexual encounters. Jane soon realized she was expected to be an avid participant or, at the very least, a darn good sport—and she was, as the following vignettes attest.
Sex is God’s joke on human beings. ~Bette Davis
Two for the Road
Shortly following their honeymoon, Tarzan and Jane were driving home late at night after visiting her parents in another state. Tarzan, who behaved like a gentleman during the visit with his in-laws (he kept his hands and his other significant body parts off Jane the entire time), commented that he couldn’t wait to get home so he could jump her bones. Amused, Jane joked that they could stop at a rest area if he was that horny. Tarzan took the suggestion seriously, believing she was as horny as he was. He stopped at the very next rest area, parking a judicious distance from the few cars in the lot, and had his jeans unzipped before the startled Jane had the chance to explain she was just kidding. Getting out of the car and then getting back into the rear seat would signal what they were about to do, so Tarzan decided the front bench seat of their ancient used sedan would have to suffice. The resultant awkward shifting of positions and clumsy acrobatics in the cramped front seat area while semi-undressed made Jane regret both her wisecrack and never having taken gymnastics. On the other hand, Tarzan was oblivious to everything other than sexual gratification. He got it. Jane got to be a good sport and had a good laugh about it.
If you can’t laugh about sex, you shouldn’t be doing it. ~Sue Johanson
Beach Blanket Bingo
At Myrtle Beach, before the kids came along, Tarzan and Jane were attending a business conference. Late one evening, Tarzan suggested a moonlight walk on the beach. Before leaving their hotel room, he leered at Jane in her mini skirt and told her to remove her underwear. Jane asked why. Tarzan couldn’t believe she had to ask. They weren’t just going for a “walk” on the beach. They were going to make a memory on the beach. Jane balked. Go out without wearing undies? Sex on the beach? In public? Nuh-uh. Tarzan wheedled. Tarzan cajoled. Tarzan begged. Jane caved. A stranger got on the down elevator with them. Jane was positive the stranger knew she was panty-less. She kept tugging her mini skirt down, but it refused to get any longer. She exited the elevator red-faced. Remember the beach sex scene in From Here to Eternity? Wet sand. Waves crashing over the lovers. Sexy, right? Sure looked that way. But as Jane discovered, having sex on the beach with damp sand working its way into every bodily crevice while you’re keeping a lookout to make sure no one observes you and your crazy mate behaving like rutting fools is not as erotic or as satisfying as it looks in the movies. None of which bothered Tarzan one little bit. He succeeded in making a beach memory. Jane’s memory was of going back up in the elevator red-faced, coated with sand, avoiding eye contact and then being a good sport by laughing about it with Tarzan in the shower.
“Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place.” ~Billy Crystal
Roman Holiday
Tarzan and Jane spent their tenth anniversary touring Italy. As they were getting ready for bed on their last evening in Rome, Tarzan had a better idea. Making love in bed was too ordinary when in Rome. He stripped and coaxed Jane out of her negligee. The romantic devil led her out onto the balcony. Technically, he pretty much dragged Jane out onto the balcony. She shivered but not only from the cool night air. Her nerves jangled. Public nudity. Public sex. Public nuisance. The Carabinieri would toss them both in prison and throw away the key. They would never see their home, their family, their friends or each other ever again. Tarzan stretched out on the chaise lounge and beckoned her to him, which meant it was her bare bottom that would be on display for everyone in Rome to see. Oh, joy. Jane heard earthy Italian voices below the balcony. Taxi cab drivers she surmised, talking, laughing. Laughing at her, most likely. Jane sighed and acquiesced to Tarzan’s wishes. She calculated that if she talked dirty to him, they’d be done quicker and get back inside their room sooner. Ah, the things a good sport does for love, at home and abroad.
Sex: the pleasure is momentary, the position ridiculous, and the expense damnable. ~Lord Chesterfield
Climb Every Mountain
After that Roman escapade, Tarzan’s “original ideas” no longer fazed Jane. It was another anniversary, this time Tarzan and Jane elected not to travel—well, just not very far from home. They got a sitter for their kids and set out in a Jeep with a bottle of wine, cheese, crackers, grapes, baby oil, and a blanket. There was a full moon that night. Tarzan drove the Jeep off road and up the steepest hill in the foothills of the Shenandoah range. Jane was sure the Jeep would flip, roll back down the hill and orphan their children. Miraculously, they made it intact to the hilltop, which was fairly level and perfect for their planned activities. They spread the blanket, devoured the cheese, crackers and grapes, and washed them down with the wine. Then, with Jane feeling considerably mellow, they brought out the baby oil and got nekked. The first order of business was the couple’s massage. Tarzan and Jane slathered each other with baby oil, stretched out on the blanket and got to work. They were about to embark on the next order of business when they heard the sound of a car motor and spotted headlights advancing up the hill road. Uh-Oh. They scrambled to their feet. Jane reverted from mellow Jane to uptight Jane, frantic they’d be discovered. Tarzan leaned too far over the edge to get a better look at the road, stumbled and slid a few feet down the hillside. Jane thought he would fall all the way down the hill and freaked out. She grabbed for his hand and helped pull him back up, his shins and elbows skinned and his pride wounded. They both dressed in a frantic rush, all the while keeping a lookout for those headlights. To their relief, the headlights turned aside at a fork in the road and disappeared. Whew! They remained undiscovered. Jane figured their romantic evening in the great outdoors was over. She should have known better than to underestimate Tarzan. Like Mr. Spock, Tarzan blocked out his pain and the activities went on as planned. What a guy, and what a good sport, proving Franklin P. Jones correct.
Sex is a two-way treat. ~Franklin P. Jones
Now it’s your turn to fess up. Have you done the horizontal samba in unusual places? Come on, folks, dish! 🙂