Waterbeds

Children, back in the day there were these things called waterbeds. All I can imagine was that people grew fond of how it felt to sit on a beanbag chair, and they wanted a beanbag bed, but there wasn’t enough styrofoam. 

So we truly slept on top of big grey plastic balloons full of water. 

We also had a waterbed for at least two years. I went from newly engaged, freshly deflowered, having sex on a bed, to having sex on top of a water balloon. 

I blame myself. Gary wanted to test out sex in a waterbed before we bought it. The was a seedy motel by the airport with “WE HAVE WATERBEDS” on the sign. We were actually in line to check in when I lost heart. Knowing how suggestible Gary is, all I had to do is say, “Ow. I think something bit me,” and five minutes later he was scratching himself and then we got out of line, and went home, saying, “I’m sure sex on a waterbed will be great. It must be.”

It was not great. It eventually worked because of Archimedes' principle of water displacement, but it meant that whoever was on the bottom was banging against the plywood support. It did make us more adventurous because we would rather have sex anywhere but in the bed. 

Do they even sell waterbeds anymore? I hope not, for your sake, children.

Comments

[AH]

Can I say again I want to read a book about your life? I hope that doesn't make me sound like a perv saying that on a post about your waterbed sex life, I just find you hilarious.

[theQueen]

AH - Thank you. Bad sex is one hilarious topic.