A Beautiful Game?

“No one ever choked to death swallowing their pride” – Grandma Rose

My Grandmother was a wise woman, full of advice that I ignore to this day. Realising that my behaviour with Finn could be considered a result of “feelings” I decided the best way to address the imbalance was to jump into bed with a new flavour. Finn had become the outright favourite in my current rotation, so I felt it was time to add some variety to my choice of bed mates.

So I shaved my legs, dug out my eye-popper bra and considered my options for a hunting ground. It was Tuesday evening, so where in Toronto could I find a young buck to satisfy my needs and oust some of the Finn-based pangs? I’m a creature of habit, so after a moment or two in private debate I headed off to my favourite sports bar assuming that since Man U played earlier that day a few drunk soccer fans would be around.

I was right.

After a few drinks and some banter I was ambushed on my way out of the ladies washroom by an ardent admirer. With my encouragement he pushed me back into the (empty) ladies for some privacy while we indulged in a quick preview. He kissed well and passionately, was obviously keen, and as the saying goes either he had a gun in his pocket or was very pleased to see me. We rejoined the table after a swift smoothing of hair and straightening of clothes. As his blood was up and I had put him on a promise, we stayed to finish our drinks before leaving in a taxi headed to his.

Although I too prefer a home-bed advantage, I have to agree with The F’in Man that men often perform better in their own space. (I have also found some lesser mortals can be intimidated by my palatial condo with dancing pole and love swing.)

Out of light with a ball concept The sex was fun. Passionate, enjoyable, vocal and reasonably imaginative. He wasn’t very handsy though… he would choose a spot, grip and then his hands would stay pretty much put. This didn’t overly detract from the event itself, but it did leave me pondering. As a soccer fan, has his chosen sport influenced his style as a lover? This led me to wonder – could we all be influenced by our sporting passions to the extent it can be seen in our horizontal mambo technique?

Many of my past and present lovers are rugby fans and/or players. It is also my sporting passion, so this is my default and possibly my natural match in the bedroom. Can I seek variety through different supporters clubs?

Readers, I feel a hypothesis ready for rigourous scientic experimentation is needed.

Rugby fans – rough in the sack, shake hands after the deed is done and join you in the bar after.
Soccer fans – prone to faking it, no hand coordination and potential foot fetish.
Cricket fans – five day tantric session which can end without a result leaving you somehow unsatisfied.
Football fans – need constant substituting (have those toys ready) and oversized refreshments.

So – what is a statistically representative sample? I think I might be busy over the next few months on this project.

Note: I have left out basketball, baseball and hockey fans as I’m too bored by the actual sports to even begin to identify possible characteristics. I blame it on the “calibre” of the Toronto based teams recent seasons.

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