Have you ever paused to think about your choice of cosmetics?
Or the possibility that the very thing that makes you look so dashing could be the same one locking your pink elephants out?
For example, some bleaching products, for reasons I cannot fathom, make users’ skin feel constantly clammy and cold to the touch. Not a sexy combination, if you ask men. While you may glow like a new lamp from a distance, things can be different upon contact.
Or, like I recently discovered during a sweaty workout, many cosmetics are very bitter to the taste and as a result can make kissing you or even the basic foreplay, next to impossible.
Last week’s column quoted a sex educator and research that suggested many women get their orgasms during foreplay, a part of making love that should involve all the five senses of the body.
Don’t eliminate taste by turning up with skin tasting worse than chloroquine!
Some leave-on cleansers like the one I used on that sweaty day would indeed give chloroquine a run for its money. I had to leave the gym class and go wash my face, before I threw up.
Make sure when you do your standard cleanse before bedtime you go for foam cleansers you can actually wash off. That way you turn up with skin smelling fresh and tasting like you.
Some wives always retire after a long day with a face pack or mask (imagine avocado with eggs) slathered all over their faces, mbu to wake up with a glowing youthful skin.
Good, good. But what is the point of good skin that your spouse rarely enjoys when he – or the way he – wants to?
Haven’t you heard of the admonitions during sex: “Don’t touch my hair, Harry!” “Be careful not to ruin my face mask, dear”. That is like negotiating an infrared beam movement sensor in trying to get to your desired goal.
Try to be as user-friendly as possible, unless it is your intention to put your husband off the sex by deliberately keeping some areas of your body out of bounds.
I know a wife who does not go to bed minus her full makeup. Well, each to their own devices… Maybe her husband finds that crazily sexy; marriages are weird and unique like that.
But anyway, as you eliminate the “chloroquines”, you can also start cot-training baby and remove that little one from your marital bed. You have no idea how much baby-in-bed cramps your sex life.
With the excuse of hating to make too many movements, breastfeeding mothers often keep baby in bed with them for convenience, sometimes up to even two years.
Now, many husbands dread to voice their concerns about their babies’ unnecessary interference with lovemaking, for fear of being called out as “selfish and too obsessed with sex, and not baby”, by their wives.
So, they endure sexless days and nights trying to be perfect troopers. When the going gets tough, they sneak around the little one, risking damaging that little one with what it sees.
Get baby out of your bed and out of your bedroom as soon as possible. You risk welcoming one miracle and losing another. Especially considering how babies have the God-given ability to overwhelm their mummies with love and unconsciously make them neglect their other “babies”.
How do you smell when you come to bed? Do you spot your morning breath 24/7 and still expect fireworks in bed? I know adults that can afford toothpaste and a toothbrush, but simply never brush their teeth.
And one of the most common complaints in wives’ circles is their husbands’ poor relationship with the shower. Again, how do you smell even as you demand to be “served like a king”? Your spouse is human – unless you don’t mind them wearing a gas mask to bed.
Don’t think of dousing yourself in perfume either; you could trigger a bad allergic attack at a critical moment meant to be sexy. There are body mists for every occasion. Don’t spray on something that smells like the worst-smelling insecticide and then crawl into bed oozing seduction. Some choices of perfume are just B.A.D.
If your spouse says they don’t like it, don’t insist on wearing it. Your wife could be pregnant and hating colognes she previously loved. Stay away from them for just nine months; otherwise, don’t cry to anyone about the sex drought that came with this pregnancy. You smell horrible. For now.
Adjust, or endure the rejection. These are usually small, fixable things, but unfortunately we can be the most stubborn about them. In that case, shauri yako…
carol@observer.ug