How to Start Sex Without Making It Weird

I used to be dreadful at this. Not at the sex itself, at the asking. The bit where you have to somehow bridge the gap between sitting on the sofa discussing what to have for dinner and communicating that actually, what you'd really like is to drag your partner to the bedroom. That transition. That gear change from normal life to let's go. I could suddenly find a fascinating amount to say about the cushions.

Are they tired? Will I seem desperate? What if I read the room completely wrong?

I have thought all of these things. Many times. Occasionally all three at once, holding a spatula and pretending to be deeply invested in onions. Most frank conversations I've had about sex eventually end up at the same unglamorous question: "but how do you actually start it?"

The thing I eventually landed on is much less dramatic than I expected: initiating sex is an invitation. You're letting the other person know where your head is, then giving them room to want it too, or not. That's it. No monologue required. No flawless "seduction technique." As sex educator Midori puts it, "Talking before the ropes wrap and the whips fly; this is where the fire starts." A lot of the heat is in that first little want to?

What initiating sex actually means

First: initiating sex is not making a demand. It is not pouncing on someone and assuming their body will catch up because yours has already left the station. It is saying, in whatever way fits you, "I'm over here wanting you. Are you anywhere nearby?" If they are not, you have your answer and you do not turn it into a courtroom drama. A warm invitation, a seductive suggestion. Not a cold proposition.

Films have been no help here. They make sex look like weather: it rolls in, everyone gets swept up, clothes somehow know when to leave. In real relationships, especially established ones, somebody usually has to nudge the scene into being. Someone has to show that first spark. And that can look like anything from a lingering kiss to a straightforward "I want you" to a flirty text sent three hours before you're even in the same room.

The key (and this took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out) is framing it as an offer, not an expectation. "I would love to be close to you" rather than "I'm entitled to sex now." Written down, that sounds almost insultingly obvious. In the moment, it changes everything. Sex therapist Vanessa Marin describes initiation as creating an opening for shared pleasure, rather than one partner dragging the other into something. You're seeing whether there is a yes between you.

Also, initiation is rarely one single dramatic moment. Half the time it is a run of tiny maybes. A suggestive glance. A touch. A playful remark. An escalation. Anyone who's spent any time in the kink world knows this instinctively, because the seduction often starts well before any physical act, with conversation, teasing, negotiation. Setting the stage is part of the erotic experience. The lead-up to sex is sex. Once that clicks, asking stops feeling like a sales pitch and starts feeling like part of the fun.

Why it gets so awkward

If saying "Do you want to have sex?" out loud makes your soul try to climb out through your ear, welcome. There are approximately a million of us in here, and nobody's making eye contact.

There is a very specific nakedness to asking. Not physical nakedness, the other kind. You are admitting I want you before you know whether they want you back tonight. A yes can feel glorious. A no can sting, even when it is said kindly and even when your adult brain knows nobody has done anything wrong. That fear of rejection is enormous. It is not silly just because the relationship is loving.

Then there's the worry about coming across wrong. Too needy. Too aggressive. Too out of the blue. And we lack any decent models for this because nobody teaches it, not in school, not in films, certainly not in those godawful magazine tips we all absorbed at some impressionable age. A lot of us picked up the idea that wanting sex was slightly embarrassing, especially if we were the one saying it first. Women get the old don't be too much nonsense. Men, or whoever usually wants sex more often, get the fear of sounding like a walking erection with a diary. It's all bollocks, but it gets under the skin. It turns a simple question into something loaded.

Which is at least backed by the data, annoyingly enough: in a six-country study of partnered adults, people who found sex-talk difficult most often blamed awkwardness, not having a habit of talking, nerves about their partner's reaction, or simply not knowing when to bring it up; across countries, 37-50% wished they and their partner were better at talking about sex, desires and fantasies.

Long-term relationships can make the whole thing even weirder. One partner becomes the person who asks, and after a while the question stops being casual. It starts sounding, to both of you, like chapter 438 of who wants sex more. The scorekeeping begins. The resentment creeps in. And then people just... stop trying. Which is its own kind of sad.

One book I really love on this is Hold Me Tight by Dr. Sue Johnson. She describes a client who admits that asking for sex has started to feel like diving off a cliff, because a tired smile and a turned back lands as rejection even when nobody means it that way. Johnson's whole framework is that sexual vulnerability and emotional safety are the same thing; her shorthand is "no safe bond, no sex; no sex, no bond." The awkwardness of initiating is not always awkwardness. Sometimes it is attachment panic wearing a dressing gown.

And then there's the sheer practical awkwardness of it all. One minute you're discussing the gas bill, the next you're supposed to be seductive. As one person on Reddit put it, "I'd be so surprised if someone was ready to drop everything just because I told them they look good." We need a bit of runway to take off. Fair enough.

The bit I wish I had learned earlier: awkward does not automatically ruin the mood. Sometimes the little laugh in the middle of a kiss is the mood. It says, yes, this is a bit daft, and I still want you. As author Janet Hardy puts it, "Now is not the time to judge yourself… when you and your top are both turned on, you're a superstar!" The first ten seconds can be excruciatingly dorky; then the kissing gets good and your brain mercifully shuts up.

Reading Jack Morin on erotic tension made me feel less ridiculous about the nerves. Sometimes the butterflies are not a warning light. Sometimes they are just your body admitting this matters.

Start Before You Actually Want Sex to Happen

This was a genuine revelation for me: don't wait until the exact moment you want sex to initiate sex. Start earlier if you can, before either of you is tired and slightly resentful of the laundry basket. I used to treat sex like a pop quiz I sprang at the worst possible hour. Unsurprisingly, that is not the world's best erotic strategy.

For plenty of couples, 10:58 p.m. is where libido goes to die: teeth brushed, phone in hand, one person already half-asleep. Do not leave all your wanting until then. Flirt during the day. A text can be embarrassingly simple: "Can't wait to kiss you later" or "I've been thinking about last night." Then put your phone down and go answer emails like a normal member of society. The dissonance is half the fun.

Touch matters too, and not just in the bedroom. Slip your arms around your partner while they're making coffee. Let the lunch kiss run a second too long. It does not have to mean sex now. It just interrupts the boring-household-business channel for a moment.

Build anticipation. If you have an evening together planned, flirt about it in advance: "I have a surprise for you later." Then just leave it. Now the idea is simmering. Whisper something before you both head off to work, "I loved what we did last weekend… maybe we could replay that tonight?", and then go about your day. That tension is doing the work for you. You don't even have to be there.

Timing matters too. If your partner is always wound tight straight after work, do not pick that exact moment and then act wounded when it goes badly. Try later, when the house is quieter and the day has stopped barking at everyone. Suggest heading to bed a bit early just to cuddle. By the time you're actually under the duvet, the idea has had a chance to arrive before your hands do.

Emily Nagoski talks about creating conditions for responsiveness: lower stress, increase affection, and erotic energy flows more easily. Which is a tidy way of saying: the afternoon counts. The favour you did, the joke at dinner, the hand on the small of their back while you squeezed past in the kitchen. That stuff is part of your sex life.

Ask, do not corner them

I will die on this hill: make it an offer. A question. Not a bill coming due. Desire goes weird when somebody feels pinned to the wall by it.

There is a world of difference between barking "I'm horny" at someone and saying, "I'd love you tonight, where's your head?" One sounds like a demand shoved into a sentence. The other actually waits for an answer. You can be blunt, by the way. "Wanna have sex?" is perfectly fine if your face, tone and follow-through all say that either answer is allowed. Curious, hopeful, not entitled.

Make the refusal easy. Not fake-easy, where you say "no worries" and then go silent for forty minutes. Actually easy. Try: "I'd love you tonight, but no pressure if your body says no." Shorter is often better. A real no has to be available, otherwise the yes is a bit suspect too.

Another approach I love: frame your initiation as something you want to do for them. "Can I give you a massage? And maybe kiss every inch of you afterward?" That centres their pleasure. It doesn't feel like "gimme sex now", it feels like "I want to pamper you; interested?"

Being invitational also means "not tonight" cannot send you into a tragic little spiral. If they say no, try: "Okay, another time. Want to just watch the show?" No sulking. No guilt trips. None of that shit. Your partner should not have to manage your ego every time they listen to their own body. And a grudging yes is worse than a loving no. I genuinely believe that.

Talk About Initiation Styles Outside the Bedroom

Here's something that genuinely changed things for me: having a conversation about initiating sex at a completely non-sexy time. Clothes on. Kettle on. Possibly someone eating toast. It may feel painfully unsexy for twelve minutes. Still better than months of bad mind-reading.

Try a plain opener: "Do you like how we usually start things, or is there a version you'd prefer?" Keep your voice ordinary. This is not a performance review with genitals. Share your own awkward bit too: "Sometimes I bottle it because I don't want to come on too strong. Then later I feel annoyed at myself." That is not an elegant confession, but it is a useful one.

You might discover surprising things. They might say, "I often want to say yes, but I need more warning." Or, "Please just ask me plainly because I miss hints unless they arrive wearing a high-vis jacket." People have wildly different initiation styles. There is no official adult-sex manual hidden in a drawer somewhere. You are just finding your version.

That seems to be how most people actually operate: in BeMoreKinky's "How do you like to initiate?" quiz, the most common answer was a mix of direct and indirect approaches at 49.3%, ahead of subtle hints and mood-setting at 21.5%, direct verbal or physical initiation at 17.7%, letting things happen naturally at 8.5%, and carefully chosen moments at 2.8%. In other words, you probably do not need one signature move. You need a small menu you both recognise.

This is also a brilliant time to establish code words or signals. Some couples agree on a silly phrase like "Wanna have a nightcap?" as an inside joke meaning let's go fool around. Others use a physical signal. One creative Reddit user shared, "We have a beautiful lamp that we light like the sexy bat signal. We call it the Sex Light. It is a great way to be low pressure about it." If she's not feeling it, no big scene, she just ignores the lamp and they cuddle instead. Apparently several other couples have their own candle/light version, which delights me. It externalises the question into an object, your own private ritual. The inside joke of it is intimate in itself.

You can also decide, in advance, what a no should sound like and where your hard limits sit. I like: "Can 'not tonight' just mean not tonight, not 'I reject you as a person'?" Some couples use a scale: "I'm at 50%, try kissing me and we'll see" or "I'm at 0%, only snacks and snuggling." Silly, yes. Useful, also yes. Desire is not always a light switch.

Work on sexual scripts argues that a clear exit word or signal can make stopping feel normal instead of loaded, like a door you both agreed to leave unlocked.

Think of these chats as a quick tune-up, not a solemn summit. They stop the awful sofa standoff where both people wait, neither moves, and somehow everyone loses. You might even find the conversation itself makes the air a bit warmer. Funny how that works.

Ways to test the waters

Sometimes you're in the mood and genuinely have no idea where your partner is. Maybe they are one kiss away from joining you. Maybe they are thinking about bin day. This is where small, low-pressure moves help. Offer a signal, then wait like a grown-up for the return signal. If they lean in, continue. If they don't, stop. That is the whole skill.

Start with touch that would still be nice even if it went nowhere. Feet on your lap during telly. Your thumbs in that tight spot between their shoulders. Do they lean into it? Give a contented sigh? Or do they tense up, remain distracted, give you the polite "thanks" that clearly means please stop? As one Reddit user advised, "Initiate physical, but non-sexual touch. Rub your wife's legs while sitting on the couch. Also, use your words: tell her how great she looks." If they soften toward you, you might stroke their arm, cuddle closer, kiss their shoulder. If they stay half inside the telly, leave it there.

Or offer a massage. "Can I give you a backrub?" has subtext, obviously, but it can still stop at backrub. Same with, "I'm going for a shower, want to come?" if you say it with a grin.

The preview kiss is another good one. Make the everyday kiss last a beat longer than usual. Maybe your hand finds their back. Then pause and actually notice them. Do they pull you back in? Deepen the kiss? If so, green light. If they smile, pat your chest and go back to chopping carrots, you have your answer. No awkward rejection scene. Just information.

While you're doing something mundane, throw out a half-joke: "We could abandon these dishes and go make out, technically." If their eyes light up, excellent. If they laugh and keep scrubbing, the plates have won this round.

And the classic: "Shall we head to bed a bit early tonight?" This works especially well if there are other people around or the kids are still up. It implies let's have some private time. If they catch the drift, you'll know. If they genuinely think you're just tired and say "Actually I want to finish this show," you've got your answer without any scene.

The useful thing about these tiny moves is that they can remain innocent. A kiss can just be a kiss. And for someone who needs a slower warm-up, that is often exactly why it works.

One word of caution though. Don't let every kind touch become a Trojan horse for sex. If you only give back rubs when you want something, pretty soon a back rub stops being a nice thing and starts feeling like a contract with fine print. One woman shared online how she grew to resent even innocent touches because they always led to a push for more, and because her requests for touch that didn't lead to sex were ignored. That is heartbreaking, and avoidable. Give affection with no agenda too, lots of it, so your partner does not start treating every hug like a prelude. This should be obvious, but apparently it isn't.

Direct Ways to Say You Want Sex

Sometimes the best approach is to just say it. I know, terrifying. But clarity can be hot. Being told exactly what someone wants can feel very flattering, if you're receptive. And if subtlety isn't your strength, or your partner misses hints entirely, directness saves everyone time.

Direct does not have to mean crude.

"I really want you right now. Would you like to go upstairs?" Honest, heartfelt, impossible to misinterpret.

"Hey, how about we get a little naughty tonight?" Direct with a flirty twist.

"I want to do very delicious things to you right now. Are you in?" Said in a low voice, this one can send shivers. Know your audience, obviously.

"Hey, wanna have sex?" And honestly? Sometimes this is all you need. As one woman commented online, "I just say 'hey, wanna have sex?'" and she found it worked just fine. Ask it like you'd ask "Want to go for a walk?" A genuine question, no assumed answer.

When you go direct, confidence helps. Make eye contact. Say the words. Mumbling "so, uh, maybe if you wanted, we could, um..." while staring at the floor creates more awkwardness, not less. And be prepared for any answer. A self-assured person can nod and say "Okay, another time" without acting crushed.

It might help to practice saying the words out loud when you're alone. Yes, I know. It sounds ridiculous. But many of us have never heard our own voice speak sexual desire in words meant for a real person in a real room. No wonder it feels awkward. You might giggle. Your face might go hot. It gets easier.

And remember: direct doesn't mean no foreplay. You can be direct to get through the door, then take your sweet time once you're both inside it.

Betty Dodson, a pioneering sex educator, championed people's right to voice their sexual desires without shame. She'd likely applaud anyone saying "This is what I want!", and she'd probably tell you to stop faffing about and just say it. I desire you. Do you desire me too? Sometimes there's nothing sexier than that.

Physical ways in, without grabbing

Touch is usually easier than speech. A hand at the waist says plenty. But the art is mostly restraint. The mistake is going straight for the obvious bits out of nowhere. Grabbing, groping, zero to a hundred in two seconds flat. Unless that is already your established game together, it can feel like someone has skipped three pages of the conversation.

Start somewhere that would still be nice if nothing sexual happened.

A plain snuggle is underrated. Move closer on the couch or bed. Wrap an arm around them. Stroke their arm, run your fingers through their hair, trace circles on their back. If they nuzzle in and start touching you back, lovely. The door is no longer theoretical.

Kissing is another way in. Start gently. Then pay attention. A quick peck might become a slower one. Your mouth might drift to their jaw, their collarbone, that bit under the ear that makes some people forget their own postcode. If they tilt toward you, keep going. If they don't, do not conduct a solo expedition.

Sometimes it is as simple as standing behind them, arms at their waist, mouth at their neck. That can be filthy in the quietest possible way. The neck is sensitive for many people, though not universally, so know your partner.

Physical initiation can also be as simple as standing up, taking your partner's hand, and walking toward the bedroom with a look back at them. No words needed. If they follow willingly, you've got your answer. If they ask "Oh? Where are we going?" you get to smirk and say "You'll see."

Or put on a slow, sexy song and pull them in for a sway. Hips close. Hands somewhere they are welcome. Maybe it turns into kissing; maybe it is just two minutes of being pressed together in the kitchen.

The point is not to trick anyone into sex. It is to stop treating sex like a trapdoor. Maybe you're still fully clothed. Maybe the kiss warms up and a hand finds skin. If they meet you there, great. If not, you still got a cuddle and nobody had to make a speech.

Read their body and believe it. If you're kissing their neck and they tilt to give you more access, keep going. If they move your hand away, slow down or ask. A soft "Is this okay?" can be hot when it is whispered against skin. Anyone who's done kink properly knows a check-in does not break the spell. Often it makes the spell safer to fall into.

At the same time, body language is a cue, not a notarised document. A 2026 study of Greek young adults found that real-life consent often happened through a wordless mix of atmosphere, reciprocation and body language, but participants also recognised that reciprocation can be awkward or passive rather than genuinely eager.

One wonderful thing about physical initiation is that it can bypass the overthinking part of our brains. Rather than psyching yourself out for twenty minutes over the smoothest line, you just start with a touch. A touch can say I love you and I desire you and I'm here all at once, without all the internal agonising.

In kink, you learn to read response through touch. A dominant might start with a light flogger stroke and notice whether the submissive's body says yes, more or not tonight. A kiss or back rub asks a similar question. Your hands ask. Their body answers.

Play with it

Sex does not need to be treated like a very serious committee meeting. It is called messing around for a reason. A bit of play lets you stop auditioning for "sexy person" and start behaving like two people who actually like each other.

Flirt like you're dating again. Long-term relationships can sand off the early-days stuff: the banter, the innuendo, the look across a room that says you have a filthy secret. Bring some of it back. Play footsie under the table at dinner. Say, "That shirt is doing very good things for your shoulders." Let the evening get a little charged before anyone is expected to make a move. Susie Bright often said foreplay is not only physical; it is also the joke, the glance, the clever little spark. So flirt. You are not too settled for it.

Share a fantasy or sexy story. Next time you're cuddled up, try, "I keep thinking about this scene..." and tell them enough to see whether their eyes change. Maybe you read it; maybe your brain has been chewing on it all week. Annie Sprinkle is big on the imaginative, silly side of sex: dress up, role-play, pretend. A little theatricality can do more than another solemn conversation about desire. A shared giggle over something ridiculous is its own kind of foreplay.

Use a prop or surprise. Disappear for a minute, put on the thing that makes you feel obscene, and come back in. Or break out a pair of sex dice. They exist for a reason. Roll them and obey the stupid little cubes. It is goofy and hot at once, and if anyone feels shy, you can blame the dice. Plausible deniability. Very important.

Plan a date that has a decent chance of ending in the bedroom. Cook dinner. Put on music you would turn down if a neighbour walked past. Or go out for a drink and pretend you're meeting for the first time. Ridiculous, until it works. Touch their knee under the table. Whisper one specific thing they do that ruins you.

If you're apart, a well-aimed text can do the same work, how to sext in a way you'll both actually enjoy. When you meet later, you are not starting from nothing.

Mollena Williams-Haas writes beautifully about consensual power exchange, and playful build-up borrows a little of that energy. You send something. They send something back. Nobody is hauling the whole erotic mood alone.

When your partner has responsive desire

Maybe your partner rarely starts sex, but once things get going, they are absolutely there. Or maybe you're the one who does not wander around spontaneously horny, but one slow kiss changes the weather. Knowing which pattern you're dealing with can save a stupid amount of hurt.

If your partner has responsive desire, they may need context before their body gets the memo. They might not often walk in saying "I need you right now." Maybe a slow kiss, a laugh, a warm room, and five unhurried minutes are what wake the whole thing up.

Take the pressure off. A responsive-desire person can feel put on the spot if you expect instant heat. They may also feel guilty for not starting more often, which is a very unsexy little knot to carry around. It can help to say, plainly, "I know you enjoy sex once we're there. I'm okay taking the first step sometimes."

Start with relaxation and connection. Responsive desire does not tend to thrive under a pile of mental admin. Your initiation might start with non-sexual things: handling bedtime, tidying up, suggesting a walk. I know. Very glamorous. Jack Morin wrote about how feeling cared for and safe can unlock sexual excitement. Sometimes the sexiest thing you can do is the washing up. Truly.

This is not just relationship woo. A 2026 qualitative study of young women with diminished desire found desire was shaped by a whole little ecosystem: fatigue, self-image, relationship communication, boundaries, and broader social expectations all pulling at once.

Use touch that does not demand an immediate decision. A foot rub during a show, then calves, maybe shoulders. They may not have been thinking about sex at all, and then ten minutes in their body goes, hmm, actually... You gave them somewhere to arrive, instead of demanding they already be there.

Build the mental heat too. Responsive folks often need something for the brain to chew on: erotic talk, a memory of last time, a page from something filthy. Carol Queen has always understood that arousal starts in the mind, not only between the legs. Whisper the specific thing you want to do later. Give them something to respond to. The clue's in the name, really.

And be okay with maybe later. Sometimes your partner's head is full, even if you do everything beautifully. That does not automatically mean they do not want you. Maybe mornings work better. Maybe Saturday is easier because their brain has finally stopped making lists. Scheduling sex can sound unromantic, but for some people it turns pressure into anticipation.

If you're the responsive one, say it plainly: "I do want you. My body usually needs a warm-up before it remembers that. If you start slowly, I often get there. I just don't think to begin." That can spare a spontaneous-desire partner a lot of unnecessary rejection stories.

Responsive desire isn't a flaw. Lots of long-term relationships drift that way because life is busy and full and exhausting, and the spontaneous horn of our twenties does not always survive mortgages and meal planning. Stop waiting for lightning. Put down a blanket. Light a candle. Give desire somewhere to land.

When the answer is no

Sometimes the answer is not tonight. That is not a tragedy. It is two bodies failing to line up on a Tuesday. The important bit is what you do next. If you stay warm, sex may be off the table but trust stays in the room. If you sulk, punish, or go cold, your partner learns that your desire arrives with consequences. Get that wrong enough times and they will start dreading your advances.

Accept the no without making them mop up your feelings. If they say, "I'm sorry, I'm just not in the mood," you can say, "No need to be sorry. Want to watch the show?" Then mean it. Do not sit there glowing with silent grievance from the other end of the sofa.

Resist the urge to pout, guilt-trip, or retaliate. Disappointment is allowed. Punishment is not. "I guess you just don't find me attractive" and "Fine, I'll just suffer then" are not honesty; they are punishment wearing a sad hat. One person shared online how pressure after every refusal made her start resenting any initiation at all. Don't become that person. Take a breath. Your ego will survive.

A no does not have to kill the evening. If they are open to it, cuddle or talk rubbish for a while. Be near them without an agenda. The message is: I like you, not just sex with you. Maybe that closeness leads to sex later; maybe it doesn't. Either way, you have protected the thing you actually need for future sex: safety.

As for your own unmet desire: if you're wound up, give yourself some love. Masturbation is fine. Good, even. It takes pressure off your partner if they know you can look after your own body without making them feel guilty for having a different evening.

If you're hearing no a lot and it is starting to hurt, do not litigate it naked at midnight. Pick a neutral time. Try: "We haven't been sexual much lately, and I'm feeling tender about it. Can we talk?" Maybe it is stress. Maybe a medical issue. Maybe resentment, hormones, exhaustion, something you have not guessed yet. You will not find out by sulking.

And when you do get that yes and have sex, both of you can be fully present. A yes given under duress is no recipe for good sex. A yes given freely, knowing it was absolutely fine to have said no? That's the one you want. Take care of each other in both the yeses and the nos.

Making initiation less one-sided

In a lot of relationships, one person becomes the asker. Sometimes that is genuinely fine. Sometimes it quietly curdles. The asker starts thinking, would sex disappear if I stopped trying? The other person starts thinking, am I failing because I don't start enough? Now nobody is horny; everyone is doing emotional maths in their underwear.

If you're always initiating, say the scary bit cleanly: "Sometimes I worry that if I don't start things, nothing happens. I miss feeling wanted." Then stop. Let them answer. If you rarely initiate, own your side without turning it into a self-flogging ceremony: "I know I leave it to you. I get shy, or I don't notice I'm in the mood until you start. I want to find a way that feels like me."

Maybe you take turns for a while. Maybe each of you tries once a week. Maybe the quieter partner uses a signal because words feel too exposed. The point is not a chore chart for sex. The point is that one person stops carrying all the rejection risk.

If you want to initiate more, start embarrassingly small. Reach for them and say, "I want you." Send one suggestive text. Light the silly sex lamp. You do not need to become a leather-gloved seduction mastermind by Thursday. You just need one honest move.

And if your partner tries, even clumsily, be warm. Do not grade the attempt like an Olympic judge. If you're into it, show them. Tell them later, "I loved that you started things." Adults need encouragement too. We are all embarrassingly responsive to feeling wanted.

It probably will not be perfectly equal, and that is okay. But both people should get to feel wanted. Neither of you should be permanently stuck as the brave one, the needy one, the one who risks the no.

In the end, initiating is just reaching for someone and trusting them with your desire. Awkward, yes. Also pretty intimate, once you stop trying to make it slick.