Alright, so people keep talking about this “amazon sex position,” you hear it whispered around, see it mentioned online, whatever. Curiosity got the better of me, as it usually does. Figured I’d log what actually went down when we decided to, you know, give it a practical go. Sounded like it could be… something different, at least.
So, we decided to try and figure this thing out. Let me tell you, it wasn’t quite the elegant maneuver you might picture from the name. Getting into the actual position? That was the first challenge. It felt a bit like a wrestling match just to get limbs in the supposed “right” places. My partner was looking at me like, “Are you sure this is how it’s supposed to be?” And honestly, I was mostly going off some vague descriptions I’d stumbled upon. It’s meant to be all about one person being in control, real dominant vibes and all that. For a moment there, it felt more like I was about to strain something I didn’t know I had.
You read about these things, and they sound like they’re going to be some kind of revelation. The reality, for us anyway, was a bit more… awkward. We gave it a fair shot, tried to make it work. But it wasn’t exactly the mind-blowing experience some corners of the internet hype it up to be. It was… okay, I guess? Maybe we weren’t “doing it right,” whatever “right” even means with these things. Or maybe you need a certain level of flexibility I just don’t possess anymore. It wasn’t a total disaster, but it didn’t exactly set off any fireworks. More of a damp squib, if I’m being honest.
I’m starting to think a lot of these “exotic” positions are just overhyped. You know, like those fancy coffee machines that promise café-quality espresso but end up being a nightmare to clean and then just sit there on your counter. This felt a bit like that. Interesting to try once, maybe get a bit of a laugh out of the initial fumbling, but is it going into the regular playbook? Probably not.
It kind of reminds me of the time I tried to build one of those flat-pack wardrobes. The instructions looked simple enough – just a few diagrams, a handful of screws. “Easy assembly,” the box proclaimed. Ha! Three hours later, I’m sweating, swearing, the thing is leaning at a weird angle, and I’ve got one door that refuses to hang straight. My partner came in, took one look, and just said, “Should we just call someone?” And yeah, we ended up paying a handyman to sort it out. He had it done in 45 minutes. Some things are just not as straightforward as they seem, or maybe I’m just not cut out for complicated assembly, whether it’s furniture or… other stuff.
So, the amazon position. We attempted it. We documented it (mentally, mostly). And we’ve concluded it’s probably not for us. Sometimes the tried-and-tested methods are popular for a reason. Less fuss, less chance of pulling a hamstring. We’ll stick to what we know works without needing an instruction manual and a spotter. Keeps things simpler, and frankly, more enjoyable in the long run.
