Sex against the washing machine (the slyly named Mover and Shaker) is one of Cosmo’s sex positions that they recently tweeted with that cheeky #CosmoAfterDark. It’s rated a 3 out of 5 on the well-validated 5 flame carnal challenge scale, because leaning against something is apparently slightly more than moderately difficult. However, what caught my eye about this “position” is not the novelty of sex while using a structure for support nor the odd way the woman’s breast hangs over the washing machine, but the genius of the “erotic instructions.”
First of all there is the whole laundry room issue. While I like to think of myself as a willing partner who is always game to try out various rooms and surfaces nothing about my laundry room screams, “Come hither and spread your loins because you are going to have your world rocked.”
There is also the fact that the top of my washer and dryer are an accessory clothes repository as I am apparently missing the folding gene and house elfs don’t exist. Thus (needing to grab phone books not withstanding) there could never be anything spontaneous about sex on top of the washing machine. At my house this is something I or my partner would have to plan, and instead of a sexy lead up it would feel more like, “Brace yourself woman, I’ll meet you in the laundry room at 10:30.”
However, I recognize these could just be my hangups. What if the top of your washing machine would make Martha Stewart proud? Maybe there is someone who thinks the mad descent into hot, wanton sex begins in the laundry room.
Head injuries from shelves aside and the fact that leaning over a washing machine doesn’t feel remotely sexy (I tried), there is the issue of the body rocking vibrations. I’m all for well-timed vibrations, but trust me when I say there are far more precise and effective vibration delivery systems. High efficiency washing machines don’t really shake at all (or mine doesn’t, it’s my dryer that rocks the house like a 4.0 quake) and the older model washing machines don’t typically start to jump around until the spin cycle. To get any real motion from the washer you’d actually have to time your tryst for the spin cycle and not, as suggested, just turn on the machine “once you’re going at it,” leading me to believe that the person who wrote the copy hasn’t ever done laundry and possibly might never have had sex (or at least sex that involves a climax). Jennifer in the laundry room at 10:42 during the spin cycle sounds like a bad version of Clue and not the prelude to a mind-blowing orgasm.
But obviously I am missing point, because the purpose of the Mover and Shaker is clearly not to enhance my orgasm. The purpose of a neat laundry room, grabbing some phone books (who even has those anymore?), and making sure your washing machine is twerking is so that your man can feel those carefully timed vibrations “rock through his entire body.” Thank God a woman’s magazine has taken it upon itself to disseminate that important and empowering message, because our society simply doesn’t focus enough on the male sexual experience.