I just finished a wonderful Christmas vacation with my family. I took 2 days in the family van and drove to see them for the first time in 2 years. With our little kids no longer so little, it was time to pack up the Windstar and hit the road. The drive along the coast was beautiful and as we turned eastward and climbed in to the mountains, it got chilly, then cold, then white with winter snow and Christmas wonder. My sister-in-law’s timeshare cabin was wonderful, cozy, and small and just the right distance from the rest of the family in the “big” hotel that we couldn’t afford. The master suite had a pillow-top mattress, 600-count thread, and soon after our arrival, two air mattresses, and four giggling kids. Sex was not on the agenda. I love my kids, I love my wife, but having them all in the same room is not conducive to good lovin’ and I knew that this was to be a monk’s weekend, minus the vow of silence.
But this was not planned as a sex vacation. Those have been had, 2-3 day weekends where we wake up naked, barely dress for breakfast with the other guests, and then crawl back under the covers in a little bed-and-breakfast south of San Francisco, where we spent out first anniversary. It has been a few years since we had a weekend like that, but I can remember our first 6-orgasm day, our first sleepless night where both breakfast and lunch were missed and the maid service knocked more than once, and the first time she screamed in to her pillow, surprised with the intensity she found. Those vacations are in the past. There may be some in the future, but none are planned.
Vacation sex, for us, has always been fraught with uncertainty, High expectations, the stress of travel, new smells, sounds, thin walls, nosy maids, intrusive bell staff, we’ve seen it all, and we’ve lost the balance required for my wife to relax, have fun, and enjoy our private time. Me? I love hotel sex. I love leaving a wet spot, making noise, and waking the businessman next door who has the early meeting. I love long showers when someone else is paying for hot water and cumming on the tile bench I don’t have room for at home. I love the feel of expensive sheets on naked skin, the picture windows overlooking a new city, or even just a new view of a city I’ve seen a million times.
Vacation sex is different because the location, sights, sounds, and smells are different. All the new things that inhibit my wife are freeing to me. When we went on our honeymoon to the tropics we were no longer virgins (by two days) and it was a miracle to be able to throw off the sheets and lie naked in each other’s arms without guilt or hiding or hesitation. I remember laying back and masturbating while she watched. Back then she was fascinated by my cock, how it got hard, long, thick, and shiny at the tip. She would stroke and fondle me as I pleasured myself and then found joy in impaling herself on my shaft, riding me to her own orgasm. Honeymoon sex was a discovery, a revelation.
I remember showering together in an open-air shower on our balcony. We had a two-story, beach access bungalow with no one underneath us. We would leave the beach and shower off the sand before going inside. The beach heat was a nice change from the winter weather of our wedding. She let me arrange the honeymoon while she handled the ceremony. Her only stipulation was that we went somewhere warm. We were heading to the mountains for a reception with my family after the honeymoon, so she wanted a hot weather vacation. I kept the destination a secret until the wedding night. Her sister had packed her a bag and I left two plane tickets and a new bikini on the bed to let her know I had kept my warm-weather promise.
Standing on the balcony, naked and exposed to the beach with just a few trees blocking our view, I learned two things, I was an exhibitionist, and my wife was not. She insisted on pulling the privacy screen closed but the sun was still shining, the warm breeze drifted across our bare skin, and the surf was loud, and I wasn’t bashful or quiet as I came under her loving hand. I loved her, and I loved outdoor vacation sex.
Other vacations have not gone so well. Sometimes vacation sex is like New Year’s Eve. Everyone tries too hard, expects too much, and doesn’t plan on being too exhausted to play when the dancing is done. Sometimes the timing is bad, a period arrives, a cold sore blooms, the food is upsetting, or it’s just not working. Suddenly the $140 hotel rate seems wasted and the bed seems too small, even when it is a California King.
Sometimes vacation sex is about waiting until things settle, it’s about morning sex, when bodies are rested and the travel blues are dismissed. It's about pulling back expectations and not insisting on doing it on the balcony when it’s only 50 degrees and the neighbors still have their lights on. Vacation sex isn’t always a Penthouse letter or porn vignette, sometimes it’s a quiet hour alone when you know the kids won’t knock on the door, cry in their sleep, or come stumbling in to mom’s bed for comfort.
So, on your next vacation, and as we all send good thoughts to Lola on her vacation, have fun, have good sex but more importantly, a great vacation. When you find time alone with your loved one, make it about them, not about new sheets, the big bed, or the patio shower. Enjoy the time away from your computer, the web, your blog, your friends, and make it about each other, about pleasure, about togetherness.
When my mother was giving me advice about my honeymoon, she told me not to go anywhere interesting, because, "you aren't going to leave the bedroom anyway." She thought she was funny.
Have a great vacation Lola! And remember, we expect pictures. :-)
Today's post is brought to you by Advizor54 over at Free Advice is worth what you pay for it. Be sure to stop by and tell him that Lola sent you! Thanks Advizor! This is some great advice. I'm sure Jasper and I will be having some yummy vacation sex, but rest assured, we'll also be enjoying our vacation, too. Pictures forthcoming...for sure...