“The difference between sex
and love is that sex relieves
tension and love causes it” –
Woody Allen
“No woman gets an orgasm
from shining the kitchen floor”
– Betty Friedan
Sex in the movies is totally,
thoroughly and abso-freaking-
lutely different from sex in
real life. In the movies, sex is
what it is – sexy. In real life, it
is not. Because in the movies,
hot people burst through the
door, pulling on each other’s
clothes, tongues interlocked as
if their lives depended on this
fleeting moment. They are all
ready to go. ACTION!!! On the
contrary, in real life, real
people have real priorities.
And that comes first.
In the movies, sensual music
plays in the background. The
couple is usually hot people
with perfectly toned bodies
and nice contour, having sex in
an apartment that looks like it
cost a million bucks. In real
life, sex involves a lot of
pleading, sporadic bribery (not
always with cash o) and some
undercover tryst.
In the movies, the hot
people have the most amazing
and sensual pillow talk before
the main koko . In real life,
the talk would involve the
unpaid bills, the children’s
school fees, mama coming to
visit from the village, the
village king selling a plot of
land meant for the whole
community, and stuffs like
that.
In the movies, it doesn’t
matter what surface the
lashing and kpanshing takes
place on –rough, smooth, semi-
rough, semi-smooth – it doesn’t
matter. In real life, surfaces
matter a great deal. I mean,
BIG TIME! And care is taken
not to break the expensive
vase Uncle Tunde got the
couple as a wedding gift from
Dubai, and extra care is taken
not to damage baby’s favorite
toy.
In the movies, the lady
arrives in an expensive
chauffeur-driven car, in red
stilettos, dressed up
seductively for the act that lay
in wait. In real life, shawty
lands on an okada, wearing a
tight pair of blue faded jeans,
flip-flops and a red beret, with
a small purse which harbors
her phone. She calls out to you
to get 100bucks to pay the
okada man before she enters
the house.
In the movies, the hot
people share a bottle of
expensive champagne and
some strawberries soaked in
vanilla, before the action
starts. In real life, the girl
would be lucky to get a plate
of Indomie noodles. Then a
bottle of Guinness Stout for the
guy. And we all know that
stout causes occasional
burping, and in some cases,
farting.
In the movies, the guy
doesn’t waste any time and
proceeds to tearing the lady’s
pink lingerie while flipping her
stilettos to the far corner of
the room. Try that in real life,
and you would turn to a
human ATM over the next
couple of weeks. You go buy
her new shoes, new
underwear...no be okrika o!
Plus isi-ewu and nkwobi to
appease the gods of feminism.
In the movies, the
apartment looks clean with
beautiful portraits hanging on
the wall and the room well
decorated. In real life, in the
one room apartment, the floor
is covered with torn carpet, a
flat bed on the floor, painting
peeling off the wall, a table
and a chair by the side,
luggage packed at the edge of
the room close to the foot of
the bed. You are tempted to
try out a move you saw in a
movie earlier on – keeping the
chick on top of the table. But
you are scared because her
ikebe fit scatter the table and
you’d have to raise cash to buy
a new one.
In the movies, the room is
well lit with a chandelier
hanging from the ceiling. In
real life, PHCN strikes as the
action wan start. There is no
petrol in the small Tiger
generator. You light a candle.
It is at this moment that the
evil mosquitoes start
circulating around, making
those horrible tiny sounds.
Perspiration sets in; I mean,
severe one o. Grasping body
parts become difficult. The
whole kporogomunu becomes
frustrating. You blame the
government, you blame the
devil, you blame your landlord
and anyone that comes to mind
at that instant.
In the movies, the bum
shorts look sexy and tempting.
This ultimately makes way to
reveal sleek panties that
grasps the gluteus in the
perfect order. In real life,
wifey is tying a wrapper
around her bosom coming out
of the kitchen, with soup
smear on her lips from tasting
the meal a hundred times.
In the movies, the couple
doesn’t care about the
neighbors hearing their moans
and groans. They shout on top
of their voices. They kick their
feet in the air and dig into
their backs. In real life, the
couple has to make sure the
kids are sleeping and the
sounds are reduced to the
barest minimum. Otherwise,
they’d get a visit from their
visibly angry landlord in the
morning.
And after the escapade is
over, they doze off and snore
away! Sex, sex, sex!

culled from: www.feelgoodinconline.com/blogs

LOOOL!!!

Books are just as bad too, even worse sef because the author would describe that one room scene with the luggage in the corner and darkness, mosquitoes etc, and it would still be sexy and romantic.