Girl on the Net

Ride of the Valkyries makes it in, obviously, as does Night On Bare Mountain, but Oh Fortuna is far too funny and Pachelbel’s Canon too soft. We’re sitting on the sofa skimming through a Spotify list of ‘Top 100 Classical Music Bangers’ and, of course, selecting which ones we will fuck to.

I’ve got a few ‘great sex’ albums, of course, and with this guy I even have a shared chill playlist which acts as a cheat code for foreplay: I fire it up when I want to tell him ‘let’s make out.’ But the idea of creating a sex playlist composed purely of classical music strikes me, initially, as a terrible idea. The classical tunes that are exciting enough to bang to will surely be far too dramatic to take seriously. And won’t the lightning-quick flash of smug recognition when each new track plays get in the way of our passion?

Still. I’m going ahead with this. I’m going to throw myself into it with all the energy, enthusiasm and sincerity I can muster because today, thrillingly, this set-piece fuck is not my idea, it’s his! Normally it’s me who tries to come up with interesting things for us to do when we get naked. Not always a full-on scene, sometimes it’s just an idea for a new way to touch him or explore something that might get him off. One of my favourite examples of this was when I lay him down on the bed, took the head of his dick in very gentle lubed-up fingers, then instructed him to kiss me as firmly or softly as he’d like me to stroke his cock. That one was a massive hit. But although I sometimes love pretending that I actually am cool and knowledgeable about sex, it does take a fair amount of mental and emotional effort. It would be nervewracking if I always had to bring the ideas – although some of the things I’ve suggested in my lifetime of perving have gone down a treat, others have fallen flat in ways that leave my confidence in tatters.

This time, the plan is his. So even though I have my doubts about the idea of shagging to classical music, which I voice tentatively by explaining that I’m worried about the keeping-a-straight-face thing, I also let him know that I’ll be well and truly throwing myself into this. Because I firmly believe that the hottest sex sometimes requires a little faith. Occasionally you need to put your doubts to one side and embrace a little ‘hell yeah!’ attitude.

I don’t mean you should compel yourself to do things that scare or hurt you, of course, or even things you just don’t fancy. Your consent is always important. I’m not asking you to mould your ‘no’ into a ‘yes’, I’m asking you to take your curious ‘yeses’ and give them a little more oomph. If you’re teetering on the edge of something interesting, and on balance you decide that you’ll give it a go because your partner seems into it, the surest way to ensure that it fails is to approach it with a shrug-I-guess-I-have-to attitude. If you’re going to actually do it, give it your all. Don’t do it begrudgingly, but with gusto. This also works as a quick thought experiment to test how genuine your ‘yes’ really is. If you can’t stomach the idea of doing this with gusto, then your ‘yes’ was probably more of a ‘no’ in the first place, so say that gently and move on to something else.

Classic Sex is his suggestion, and I’m sceptical, but I’m very keen to encourage this ideas-having in general, and therefore excited to show him just how eager my ‘hell yeah’s can be. So. Hell yeah. Let’s do this. Let’s create a playlist of classical music by listening to a bunch of tracks and deciding which ones have the fuckiest vibes, then shag to this accompaniment, maintaining straight faces and full-body lust while Ride of the Valkyries spurs us on onwards to sexual triumph.

Classic Sex in practice

It works out very differently to how I think it might. Firstly because Ride of the Valkyries is the first thing on our playlist, so instead of working to build us to climax, it instead provides the soundtrack to a very intense, switchy, all-guns-blazing make-out session to kick us off. Secondly because the concept as a whole leads to one of the best, most equal and energetic fucks I have ever had in my life.

Music makes sex better, in my opinion. Not just to set an emotional tone, but for pace as well. I give my best blow jobs when there’s something playing that can help me measure my movements. I don’t mean that I match the BPM of any given track – that way lies comedy and swift exhaustion – but allowing music to set the tone and pace can guide you into shagging in a way that feels almost cinematic.

Valkyries gives way to Symphony No. 9 in E Minor by Dvorak. I’d worried this might feel absurdly dramatic but – when taken incredibly seriously – it actually feels perfect as a soundtrack to allow myself to give in to the instinctive intensity with which I want to devour this man. I run my hands up under his t-shirt, grabbing him and kissing him deeply. I bury my face in his neck. I wrap my thighs around him and squeeze tightly, pulling back occasionally to look longingly into his beautiful eyes. The music matches my earnestness and excitement and… yeah, to this score it would feel irreverent not to mention it… my love.

The music swells and then ebbs, giving us the chance to moderate our touches from tight grabs to soft strokes. Kisses can be delicate fluttery lines tracing his shoulders or my tits, or sudden bursts of intense snogging as the music dictates it’s time for a mid-movement climax.

Night on Bare Mountain kicks in once I’ve got him naked, and it turns out to be an obscenely good number to suck a dick to. I’d never considered classical music for this before, but something about the sincere way in which we’re doing this means I make more eye contact than I usually would, and he’s extremely receptive to this. He’s often shy about feedback, but I get more vocal response from him than usual, almost as if the vigour of the music gives him permission to truly let go.

The other thing we do more than usual is switch. We don’t tend to do much power play, but each fuck usually has one of us more consistently on top, with the other generally letting them set the pace. The way that classical music tells lilting stories, ranging from soft and fluttery to fiery and strong makes each of us more likely to want to take command during different points. This back-and-forth wresting of control from each other makes this one of the most equal fucks I’ve ever had, and the next day I find myself delighted by the fact that my stomach muscles (which I use far more when he’s top) ache almost as much as my thighs (which I use when I’m riding his dick).

And that reminds me of the other thing I adored about this fuck: it was energetic. Deeply and aggressively physical. The tunes we’d normally shag to – while sometimes intense – are usually 3-4 minute songs that build in predictable patterns. What’s more, the standard sexual scripts that we’ve been taught (thanks, society) tell us that sex usually builds in a relatively linear way. There might be mini-peaks along the slowly-increasing line from ‘start of making out’ through ‘foreplay’ and then to ‘orgasmic climax’, but broadly the power is building in one direction. Not so with classical music, fucking hell. The sheer number of cycles from light to dark, fast to slow, gentle to energetic spur us on to shag much harder, for longer. They give us breaks where we can pause, look at each other and grin and say ‘fucking hell, this is awesome’ and ‘we’re so great at sex’ before immediately slamming us back into frenzied passion.

These cycles also summon the pressure that there usually is to reach climax and take a sledgehammer to it. Of course you don’t have to build yourselves to a single climax then stop – Mozart didn’t concern himself with such simplistic notions! Certainly not in Le nozze di Figaro, which is one of my favourites on the Classic Sex playlist. Here’s a crescendo, right at the start, and there’ll be another in a minute! And then more! It would be impossible to orgasm to each crescendo, so instead you let your own body decide what you’ll do to mark it. Maybe this one tracks the moment when you grab the back of their neck and initiate a triumphant snog. Perhaps the next climax will be reflected in the way you stop gently licking the head of their cock and instead envelop the whole of it in your mouth, using tight wet lips and a flat tongue to stimulate as much of it as possible. Then the next climax denotes the moment when you switch, and he grabs you and flips you onto your back so you can spread your legs and moan ‘ohhhh yes’ as he plunges inside.

I won’t go through the whole playlist here, although I know some of you will ask me for it. To be honest, though, I don’t think this is one of those shags that you can copy/paste into your own bedroom and enjoy in the same way we did. Just as sex isn’t purely about the physical stuff you do together, it’s more about the ways in which you connect, so this shag wasn’t about the specific music, but the tone we created. Sitting in my living room weighing up the fuck vibes of each different tune was just as important as which tunes eventually won their place on the playlist. And perhaps even more vital than that was the fact that – have I mentioned? – it was his idea to begin with! The fact that it was his gave me pure, joyful permission to stop feeling like I had to be creative and sexy and instead lean in to enjoying the fruits of his own creative sexiness. I adored having the opportunity to say ‘hell yeah’ to him. I loved this so much that I think his idea could have been radically different and I’d still have had an astonishing time.

The only thing I find strange about this particular shag is that I’m struggling to capture the hotness of it in this post. I’m dissecting the music a little, and explaining why it made that fuck incredible, but my usual powers of turning stories like this into porn are deserting me. I think it’s because I’m very aware that no matter how hard I go in on the way it felt and what we did, I won’t come close to capturing the essence of it. The essence is so very rooted in the collaboration: him coming up with an idea; me throwing myself in; both of us choosing tracks together; the encouragement and feedback we gave each other throughout. These things combined to make for a level of teamwork that feels so exclusive to the pair of us that I’m struggling to write in a way that makes you feel it too. It was very personal. And very ‘us’. It was definitely the most equal fuck I’ve ever had.