I once accidentally set my apartment on fire because of sex, or the pursuit there of.
Was doing my amorous best, back in ’99, to earn the favors of a lady, when I accidentally knocked a pillow on top of a three-wick candle and everything went up like The Hindenburg. Since then: no candles in the bedroom. Things are dangerous, man.
TMI? Well now it’s your turn: take the InsideHook Sex Survey.
Takes two minutes. You tell us about your predilections and peccadilloes in the sack, we give you the chance to win a $100 AmEx gift card.
And then we’ll publish the anonymized results in a piece we call Sex and the American Man.
[mob_ad]
After all, we’re all God’s little self-conscious creatures. We all want to know the answer to those grand questions: Am I normal? How much sex is everybody else having? And is it any good?
Not to mention: Everything that was once verboten — BDSM, polyamory — is now widely discussed. When it comes to sex these days, we are all, to borrow Heinlein, strangers in a strange land.
But that’s a blessing. We live in the age of abundant information. You can take a short walk to Starbucks and, by reading your iPhone, come back remarkably well-informed about everything from Benedict Cumberbatch’s lifestyle choices to whether it’s OK to like a finger up your ass.
So let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about sex.
And don’t worry about my apartment. Nothing a little paint and inspired spackling couldn’t handle.
Go easy,
Steve Bryant
Executive Editor
This article was featured in the InsideHook SF newsletter. Sign up now for more from the Bay Area.