Ha! Gotcha!

If I ever write that post, you have full permission to strangle me with tinsel. But I have noticed that other bloggers are already churning out posts with exactly that title, and so it won’t be long before the newspapers join in. It’s not even sodding December yet.

I’m going to say this veeery slowly: if you think that sex is no more than a series of positions, you’re doing it wrong (yes, I’m looking at you, Prince). How many basic positions are there, really? Three? Four? The rest is just an adjustment of arms and legs.

Here are the real Christmas sex positions:

The Office Do

He’s so drunk that he danced Gangnam style to the Birdie Song. You’ve already thrown up in the loos. Usually, you hate each other. Tonight, however, your faces seem to stick together by some weird alcoholic magnetism, and you wake up the next morning hoping to god you made it to your hotel room before you did that. In a dark part of your soul, you suspect not. You will find out when you return to work on Monday.

The Silent Night

It’s Christmas Eve. The whole family is under one roof, scattered everywhere on sofas and inflatable mattresses. You have just finished wrapping presents, and the children will be up in an hour. And you – yes, you – decide in your infinite wisdom that this is a great time to have sex. This probably has something to do with all the Baileys you consumed. You must now achieve the quietest, stillest shag ever. Good luck with that one. You will wonder whether your mother can hear you throughout the whole thing.

The Queen’s Speech

You have eaten every foodstuff known to man, twice. Movement is actually painful. Your partner, however, is inexplicably in the mood. This one is not a sex position so much as an extended glare of horror and bafflement.

The Turkey Twizzler

This is the joke that your pervy uncle repeatedly makes over the dinner table. You swear off sex for life.

The Christmas Bonus

‘Tis the season to take pity on your spouse and deliver the once-a-year Christmas Blowjob. You just wish it hadn’t become such an institution that all your friends enquire about it. And your mother. Who told her anyway?

Or is that just me?

You can read my Xmas special seduction from 2010 here – without wishing to spoil the plot, it involves wrapping paper and the inappropriate use of a Toblerone.

And if you’re looking for a stocking-filler for your lover, I’m offering signed copies of The 52 Seductions with a personalised inscription for just £8.

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