The Missionary Position has gotten a bad rep among the human race and I can’t determine why exactly. Could it be the confusing religious connotations of the name and the god-fearing history behind it? Could it be simply personal preference? Could it be that it reminds us of juvenile, inexperienced, naive love? When we couldn’t locate the clitoris if our lives depended on it and we had to keep our moaning to a whisper because our parents were sleeping down the hall. When our orgasms were ultra mysterious, in the sense that we had no idea what triggered them or how to hit that invisible button.
Whatever the reason, it is a common held belief that missionary is rather uninventive. Unoriginal. Uninspired. Unappealing. Unsexy. Unfun. Some think it’s the dullest way for two individuals to climax into ecstasy together. In my early romps of youth, I was told by many a compadre to “spice things up” in the boudoir. “You can’t just keep doing missionary forever. There are so many BETTER positions out there”, they would proclaim loudly with large, erotic gestures. I was intrigued by these “better positions” they spoke of and hoped the new, glamorous internet would lead me to dangerous, mind-blowing, Cruel Intentions level intercourse.
I turned on my desktop and discovered a smorgasbord of positions that looked highly titillating and highly awkward. I wrote them on a notepad and began to check them off one by one as I experimented with sexual partner(s). But to my dismay none of ‘em did the trick for me. Sure, a few were enjoyable enough. Even pleasurable and I could definitely partake in them for a period of ten minutes straight without discomfort. But I couldn’t find a replacement favourite. No matter how hard I tried I kept coming back to old, reliable horizontal body on top of horizontal body. That was six years ago and it continues to be my position of choice today. I will defend that style of quote unquote, uninventive, unoriginal, uninspired, unappealing, unsexy, unfun lovemaking until the minute that I die. I think missionary is the bees knees and there is nothing wrong with that.
But even though I’m confident in my opinions, I often get asked “WHY?” by friends when I reveal this information about myself. It perplexes certain folks, so, I’d like to state, for the record, WHY indeed missionary is my beloved number one.
The Eye Contact
I found in my experimentation days of yonder that the majority of naughty, wild, contortionist movements lacked face to face action. There was a good deal of back to chest action. Butt to crotch action. Head to foot action. But our eyelashes were rarely having a party. And that was unfortunate ‘cause I prefer to be able to look deep into the pupils of my lovah always and forever. Eyes are hot, baby. What can I say?
The Body Contact
Another feature of the “popular with high school students” position is that the bulk of your skins are rubbing up against each other a whole heck of a lot. Doggy style is a remotely okay time but I feel super distant from the person thrusting and holding my hips from behind. I’m more present and I find that my partner is more present because I’m more present when our whole bods are in mega close proximity to each other and our gross sweat blends into one stinky puddle.
The Clit Contact
I have read that there are superior places to put your pieces for clitoris stimulation but me lying flat on my back with my legs wrapped around the gentleman I am coitusing gets my clit buzzing like nothing else (other than cunnilingus of course – technically my favourite position is a man’s face in my vulva). I don’t orgasm via penetration but the moments I have gotten the closest have consistently been due to the “work of the lord” aka MISSIONARY, HELLO.
The Emotional Contact
And with eyes and bodices and clits comes the overflow of brain feels and oxytocin bonding between my head and the individual on top of me’s head. Intercourse is an intimate experience for moi, as it is for a hefty portion of the population, and when affection levels are tall my hormonal bliss levels are equally as tall. I’m not saying non-missionary-fornifcation can’t be emotional, but for me, my heart beats stronger and louder when I’m doing it like I’m sun tanning on a beach and the beach is my bed and the sun is a penis.
The Hugging Contact
I adore the sensation of orgasming and making others orgasm. When that occurs in missionary I can proceed to canoodle, embrace, and lock post-sex arms (more noodle like than regular arms). This can be achieved with some adjusting in other positions but it will take a minute or two to arrive at your destination. I prefer immediacy with my exhausted, extremely content, grateful after-copulation cuddling. That’s kinda the best part in my opinion so let’s get to it already.
Ballet classes gave me trouble as a tween and my rhythm continues to be off today. When my muscles are doing junk that they were not designed to do my whole body goes into shock. You might be capable of putting this there and sticking that here and I honestly applaud you. I am impressed because that is not a possibility in my realm. I am comfortable in missionary and with comfortability comes excellent flow. And with excellent flow comes me being in rhythmic sync with the sentient creature inside me.
I know. I have denounced experimentation this entire time BUT I am truly not against it in the least. Thing is, you can do research and development WITHIN mish (abbreviation for the non-with-it peeps). Your legs can go up, your arms can go back, and your butt can levitate off the duvet. Just because it seems plain Jane, doesn’t mean Jane can’t let loose on the weekends or the weekdays or holidays or days that only exist in leap years. Jane can toss her leg behind her head like she’s a professional gymnist or somethin’ whenever she wants.
I rest my case. Missionary FTW, y’all.