When public life shut down for a pandemic, it seemed only logical to rub it out and have sex like HOARNINESS was going out of stock.
We thought more private time equals more private parts time.
We thought we would finally milk that prostate or eat that ass.
We thought that copious orgasms could fill the void of sitting in a restaurant.
We really thought that busting nuts all day on the work-from-home clock was going to be better than seeing a fairly-paid server smile while handing off a fried appetizer platter.
So why are so many of us witnessing a surge in new Covid-19 cases but not our self-love charts? The obvious lack of stranger danger is a major factor in our pandemic sex lives, but maybe the end times just don’t turn us on.
You try to concentrate on them bouncing tiddies in “Redhead MILF Triplets Black Daddy Creampie Vol. 6” but can only think about how the virus disproportionately affects BIPOC and that systemic racism must be dismantled.
You try to think about your ex gagging on that dick but remember thousands of people are gagging and gasping for their last breath.
YOU TRY to make love to your wife but remember that you’re unemployed and about to get evicted-- oh and all your ungrateful kids are home and will probably be home until the end of time.
A thousand frames of an unfamiliar reality are passing before us—are we really all rubbing our dicks and clits while watching?
Stress KILLS that boner, dries OUT that pussy!
In these trying times, more people are losing their shit than finding sexual nirvana. It’s ok if your cheese consumption is higher than your porn consumption. A lot of us are horny for something more, like universal healthcare. Months into this pandemic, we can stop lying to ourselves. That pandemic fantasy of making cum happen 24/7 might just not happen, so take the MF pressure off your sex life like how you stopped virtual workouts.
Be gentle on yourself and on your genitals.
The insentient virus cares not for your government’s policies nor your restlessness and boredom. Remain vigilant in the oh-so tempting face of reopened bars and secret parties, lest you compromise your precious body to feed your thirsty soul.