The Period

The period is, on the other hand, while certainly not under utilized, is under appreciated. In eroticism, as with anything else, sometimes it helps to come to a complete stop, get some more martini olives, check the news.

There is nothing more erotic than lying there, crimped like a kitten, drifting in and out, muttering various nonsense endearments when various slow distinct technical noises inform you that your lover is now doing laundry. Indeed, very cool people will now pretend that nothing has happened: “So, what are you doing this afternoon?”

Though archetypically the erotic narrative is a comedic one, of springtime, renewal and eternal return - a thing of commas and semi-colons -it is ideally well-stationed with the regular servicable period:

It did not matter. They were dead. They were all dead. Who would know the winner of the blowjob contest?