I Hate Yoga by McQuillan Paul;

Author:McQuillan, Paul;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Morgan James Publishing
Published: 2015-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

SEX AND THE PRETTY

“Sex at age ninety is like trying to shoot pool with a rope.”

—George Burns

There’s a largely unadvertised advantage to having a regular yoga practice.

The sex.

Maybe it’s the increased blood flow to the pelvis, the stimulation of the reproductive system or the toning of the sexual core (pelvis and perineum).

I don’t know about you, but I’m already craving a cigarette.

Of course it could also be the newly gained confidence that a steady yoga practice can offer, or just the fact that you’re getting sweaty, hot and bendy with nimble bodies on numerous occasions, providing fantasy-incentive that can be channeled accordingly.

I’m not sure. (Ahem). Okay, I’m kinda sure.

In the words of one woman to her husband (a client) after he engaged in regular yoga for a few months: “Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

Let’s face it: Yoga’s pretty sexy. Students may not be there to hook up, but some of them certainly do.

And, as a bit of a disclaimer, let’s get even more real here with my own confession:

I’ve had sex with people I met or taught at yoga; a few of them even developed into long-term relationships. The sex was always consensual, legal and—more to the point I’d like to emphasize—really damn good!

Yoga people are pretty. Inside and out. I repeat: Inside and out.

The notion that two adults who either work together or share a mature, (adult) student and teacher relationship should not engage in horizontal activity is more antiquated than the idea of creating authentic love through an arranged marriage.

Two adults who decide to get it on are simply two people making a choice—wise or otherwise. Whether the ending plays out as a sweet tune or a shrill squeal is their business. End of story.

Now, let’s get back to the sexy stuff.

Whether you are single, married, in an open relationship or a closed one, the sex you and your partner(s) have can be duly enhanced by yoga.

It leaves me curious as to why more men don’t practice yoga. Yoga is the natural Viagra—the obvious bonus being that when the sex is over, you don’t have to hammer nails with the damn thing in order to exhaust it into submission; another plus being that the long-term effects won’t have you growing another one in twenty years.

Yes, I got all recreational (aka stupid) and tried Viagra once in my 30s. Just the memory of the experience makes my little guy retreat like a frightened turtle. We’ve been at odds about that incident ever since

But that was before yoga.

Guys, let’s talk man to mini-man here for a moment. Ladies, please jump forward a couple of paragraphs.

Guys. We’ve all had situations in which we, well, underperformed or, sadly, had to cancel the show all together. These “occurrences” can be humbling and embarrassing, even though it’s a known fact that the woman (or man) beside us is usually much more “okay” about it than we are.

We can easily fill up with enough remorse afterward to rival the shame felt by Adam Sandler at the debut of each one of his movies (with the total exception of Happy Gilmore).

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