Everyday Tantric-Sex Positions
(Originally appeared on McSweeney's, January 30 2004)
This Position is Called . . .
“Time is of the essence and many errands must still be accomplished, and yet you wish for nothing more than to spend some quality love-making time with your partner. With this in mind, disrobe. Travel to a favorite grocery store, you may take a cab. The ancient Taoists believed that opening one’s heart and spirit to new experiences enabled one to become closer to heavenly bliss (deva). Hold hands with your partner and walk slowly to a “personal grooming” aisle. Perfume your breath with betel leaves. If these cannot be found, Scope mouthwash will do just fine. Raise your arms to the ceiling as you consciously control your breathing patterns (pranayama). Mount your partner from behind, making sure that your point-of-view is unencumbered by your partner’s head or torso. Now make your way (cautiously, and with great care) to a different aisle . . . perhaps one specializing in breakfast foods. Is that a shopper, about 10 yards away, staring at you wide-eyed, one hand covering her mouth, the other excitedly motioning for security? This is not your concern. The Kama Sutra speaks of dharma, or a completion of karma through divine servitude. You spot a breakfast cereal, a favorite and reasonably priced, on the top shelf, middle aisle. Gently lift your partner to the heavens, say three feet off the ground, and join your two souls into one (hatha). Reach higher for the generic Cheerios, higher than you’ve ever reached, all the while allowing for maximum G-spot exposure, higher, higher, cherish this delicious friction, and now, with fingers carefully spread, grab the cereal box and . . . squeeze. The cereal is yours! But while you’re at it . . . why not also grab that bag of raisins, it’s just so convenient? Return to your original position and dance together in what the ancient practitioners called cosmic space (sky dancing). Finish your dance in a hurry. Security is on its way and, in the distance, you can just make out a young woman screaming that her best friend has vomited and then fainted. Adore yourself and how this feels!
This Next Position is Called . . .
Disrobe. With an arm around your partner’s waist, casually stroll into your work space where specially prepared documents and tax forms have been already scrupulously arranged atop a small work desk. A kitchen table will also suffice. The Upanishads elaborate on how the soul can be united with the ultimate truth (brahman) through contemplation and meditation. Mount your partner from the front, your gaze aimed towards the east and the wonderment that is the River Indus, your partner’s gaze aimed at the “Taxes for Dummies” alighting on your left palm. Slip on your half-moon reading glasses and rub, ever so gently, your lingam (wand of light) against your partner’s yoni (“dirty soft”). With your free hand, clutch the following forms to your anahata (heart center): 1040, ST-101, and the IT-2104. Now, with short, sharp thrusts, fill in the appropriate forms, making sure not to extend beyond the lines! Use your partner’s torso as a writing pad! Lengthen your spine! Make the peace sign with your toes! Exhale quietly through your nose, as you recite all of your favorite mantras that contain arcane, yet sexy-ass tax codes! Grab your partner’s buttocks and purr harmonically about the myriad ways in which to spend a possible tax refund. Is this not joyous? To fuck while multi-tasking is as close to heaven as any mere mortal can hope to aspire. Life is yours for the taking . . . cherish it, brothers and sisters!
This Next Position is Called . . .
Disrobe and proudly enter the lobby of a loved one’s retirement home. Why is that security guard laughing? Is this your concern? To perform your tantric duties with conviction and confidence is all that should be required of a non-deity. Sweep your arms before you and mime a swan dive. Make love with your partner as you cautiously wend your way through the throng of senior citizens, some of whom may observe you with wonder, others with disdain. With your third eye (anja), show extra care not to knock or disrupt any wheelchairs, walkers, or televisions blasting “Wheel of Fortune” or the “NBC Nightly News with Brian Williams.” Remain focused: by extending and expanding the peak of sexual ecstasy, two lovers can jointly enter into realms of beatific rapture (jivan-mukti) never previously thought possible. You spot your relative, sitting alone in her room, and you and your partner approach. “Hello,” you casually intone. More small talk suggestions:
#1. “How has the food been recently?”
#2. “I like your dress!”
#3. “It stinks in here.”
#4. “Yes, I have put on a few pounds.”
#5. “I’m serious. It really, truly stinks in here.”
Try a new position. Continue to make love as you saunter over to the window to allow luscious sunshine and fresh air into the somewhat stagnant room. Sattva (blissful illumination) is best achieved by making a connection with the outside life-force (prana). With your elderly relative by your side, engage in a round of three-person gin rummy. Read family letters aloud. Wave to the security guard, the one who’s now poking a tiny video camera in your direction. Invite him into the room. Shyly ask if he would like to play cards. Continue to screw your partner. Raise. Fold. Bluff. Stick the night away. At the end of the evening, gently ask the security guard for the videotape. If he refuses, borrow a wad of cash from your relative and then pay the guard for the videotape. If he still refuses, punch the security guard in the face, grab the videotape and run. Child of nature . . . you are free!
This Next Position is Called . . .
The kids have at last been put to bed and your house now resounds with the well-earned tranquility of a day well spent. “What do you want to do tonight?” your partner asks, “make love?” You are making love with your partner. “I don’t know,” you reply, avoiding your partner’s gaze, “what do you want to do tonight?” “Well,” your partner responds, now emptying the dishwasher, “I do have that early-morning meeting. Perhaps tomorrow night instead?” “Sounds good,” you declare, stifling a yawn. “Sounds real good, yeah, that might just be for the best.” Your partner, wiping down the kitchen table, smiles and gives you a peck on the cheek. You return the gesture. Feel life deep within you. Keep on humpin’, Mr. and Miss Beautiful. Moan loudly. This night is controlled by household chores. Honor them.