Yesterday, I said to my boyfriend: “Have you ever faked an orgasm”. Looking uncomfortable he replied in the affirmative.
Inwardly outraged (because if they start stealing this trick, girls, we're fucked) and outwardly curious, I asked, reasonably, “Have you ever faked one with me?” Admittedly my voice did get suspiciously high towards the end of the sentence.
He replied, almost choking on his own laughter “Hahahahahahahahahaha, yeah, all the time… no, joking!” And then, seeing my face contort into something that doesn’t normally mean 'good', added seriously, “Of course not, darling.”
I don’t believe him. Would you?
Surely the only way I could have believed him is if he had answered as follows:
(dead-pan, no hint of sarcasm, looking both lovingly and lustfully into my eyes): “No, are you mad? I can’t stop myself with you. You’re amazing; the best I’ve ever had. Every time I cast my eyes onto your beautiful body I want to ravish you. It’s all I can do to stop myself ravishing you in Morrison’s sometimes. God I want to ravish you right now.” And then to proceed with the ravishing.
No, no I don’t buy this at all.
Later, when he had ravished me, we looked at each other and simultaneously asked: “Were you faking it?” and then simultaneously replied, hurried and flustered, “No, no that was amazing, brilliant, no, wonderful, absolutely not.”
From now on, sexy time is detective time. Everyone is a suspect.