I never thought there would come a day where I would have to stretch before having sex. Honest to God, it's not like we're particularly athletic about it. I'm not doing a handstand against the wall or anything. We're not suspended from a chandelier. I'm just lying on my back with my legs in the air - you know propped open for... ahem... action. (bown-wown-chicka-wown-wown)
I think I'm in one position too long. I remember those days when you'd get so het up that the barest of touches could set you off. None of this 15 - 20 minutes before the big finale. That's why my poor arthritic hips give me grief. The day after sex, I feel like I'm 70. My frickin' joints are shot to hell - it's what comes of nearly a decade of gymnastics.
Thing is? When the urge hits - you want to go with it, you want to let it happen. Nothing ruins a good frisson of sexual tension like stopping to stretch out your quads and triceps (you gotta stretch the triceps too - you know for when you're holding onto the headboard too tight).
"Do you want to... waggle of eyebrows... STRETCH?"
"Oh baby, I'll STRETCH with you. You just get down here and we'll do that partner GROIN STRETCH..."
We'll strip seductively, NOT getting caught up in any of our clothing as it comes off, because my 'go-to' if I ever get stuck in my sweater, is to do a clown routine which generally shifts the mood from sex to slapstick. No longer aroused, we are now amused, and crossing back over that particular divide takes work. When you find yourself giggling madly after sex, it's incredibly therapeutic, but it really puts the kibosh on the kink in the early stages.
In the early stages, you can't get too distracticated. "Oooooh, look, something shiny!!" Gone are the days where it's Wham Bam Thank You (insert appropriate pronoun). If you start to get tingly, you've got to jump onto that horse and ride it into Coitus Land, do not stop, do not wash that last plate in the sink - GO HAVE SEX! You want to be in good shape, ALL THE TIME. So that, at a moment's notice, if your partner gives you the come hither look, you can drop everything, take those stairs 2 at a time up to the bedroom, abandon civility and get down to it.
Basically, Adult Yoga = Flexible Sex. It's a win-win. And not only will the sex be better, but you're going to be in better shape so you'll be able to do other activities. Though let's face it, being an octagenarian who can do reverse cowgirl and survive? Great incentive.