For as long as humans have been around to stick their spears into she-beasts and wantonly plow the fruited plain (we’re not sure which one of those is the euphemism — reader’s choice!), they have tried to combine food and sex. Although the cosmopologists at Cosmopolitan have revolutionized the field, getting freaky with foodstuff is an ancient phenomenon: in the Lascaux Caves, scientists discovered a Paleolithic cave painting depicting a couple spanking each other with a Wooly Mammoth trunk; it is widely-believed that upon receiving a gift of maize from the Wampanoag Indians, Pilgrim women immediately retreated to their private quarters and put it in their vaginas. That cross-cultural masturbation is the foundation of the modern Thanksgiving holiday.
In honor of this long, sticky, infection-inducing tradition, Styleite sexperts have devised new and exciting ways for you to cook up some sex in your Crock-Pot Of Love while keeping an eye on the Timer Of Regret and using the Over Mitts of Why Can’t He Be More Like Your Ex.
Make wet, sensual eyes at your partner as you melt a pound of Jarlsberg and Gruyere on your stovetop. As the cheese begins to reach the desired consistency (it should have the viscosity of ghost semen), seductively undress. Once you are stark naked, pour the hot cheese down your body, keeping your sexy, “fuck me” gaze trained on your boyfriend’s horrified face. While the paramedics are wheeling you into the ambulance and you are fading in and out of consciousness, continually shout “DIP YOUR DICK INTO ME! DIP IT! DIP THAT BREAD DICK IN MY HOT CHEESE! DIP IT INTO ME!”
Ritz Cracker Sleevejob
Have your lover slip his penis inside of a sleeve of Ritz crackers. Put on your most suggestive pair of sweatpants and sit on your couch, resting the cracker sleeve on your lap. Turn on your favorite reality programming. Girl, just do you. Omg, have you been keeping up?! Isn’t that one with one-leg just crazy?! Anyway, start to mindlessly eat the crackers in stacks of three, making sure to lick all the salt off your fingertips before you text your friend about the bananas thing the one-legged woman just did. Just as your fingers reach the tip of your man’s penis, push yourself onto the floor and groan like a God plagued with creation or a girl who ate too many crackers. Tell your boo that you’re bloated and ask him to bring you a glass of water. If he tries to bring his salty dick anywhere near you, look at him like he’s a monster.
Never throw out a carton of expired milk again! Tell your lover to close his eyes, remove your clothes, and stretch out on his bed. Now pour all those liquid lumps onto “your tuffet”. When you are adequately wet (and who wouldn’t be with that sour, rotten smell rising from your mound?), go ahead and smear cottage cheese around all your erogenous zones: nipples, earlobes, neck, behind the knees, and your philtrum. When your partner turns around, he’ll be dying to get way into your whey. Before he goes muffet-diving, bring his ear to your lips. In a very sexual way whisper, “I hid a bunch of spiders in the bed. You have to find them… with your mouth.”
Gluten My Pants
Push a glazed doughnut on your partner’s penis and tell him you are going to eat it off like a really horny seagull. Bring your mouth tantalizingly close to the dickssert and ask him if the doughnut is gluten-free. It’s not. For the next hour try to distract yourself with a piece of celery but every once and awhile glance at his doughnutted nuts and sigh, loudly. When he proposes doughnut-less sex, remind him that you have an INTOLERANCE which is LIKE A DISEASE and you could get a STOMACHACHE and you GAVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS of getting a cat because of his ASTHMA so you’d really expect his support on this.
Bonedown! with Bobby Flay
You coax your skilled lover into the bedroom under the pretense that you want to film a sexy video for your private collection. Just as your partner is getting into the rhythm of things, Bobby Flay pops out from a closet or underneath your bed (you can hide a Bobby anywhere) and challenges your partner to a sex throwdown. A fleet of cameramen and a crowd of sweet, down-home, god-fearin’ folk file into your room and watch as the Iron Chef and your pedestrian boyfriend bang around your naked body as if it were a Hibatchi grill. Beware: Bobby Flay will try to put habanero chiles inside you. Do not let him.
BDSM, or How to Be a Lady in the Streets and a Lesser Lady in the Sheets
By the Numbers: Our Visit to the Museum of Sex’s Erotic Fairground ‘Funland’
Illustrated Subtweets: Love Means Never Forgetting to Put on a New Toilet Paper Roll