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Well, that’s what seems to be happening out there, as people get all geared up for the sexiest month of the year. We should remember to play safe – but let’s not forget: fornicatin­g is good for you. Have fun!


After his shower, the Australian crawled into bed beside me. “I’m naked,” he said — but with a wink and a smile, so that I’d know he was suggestive­ly hinting, or hinting suggestive­ly, and not merely informing me of a fact that was starkly obvious.

Marilyn Monroe famously wore nothing but Chanel No.5 to bed. Naturally, I follow her example. However, since it is December, I accessoris­e my perfume with pyjamas. Ravenclaw pyjamas on this occasion — yes I am a grown woman with an enduring love for Harry Potter and IDGAF what you think.

As a member of “wise old Ravenclaw”, I wasn’t about to risk frostbite on the nips, so the pyjamas were staying in place — at least until the room warmed up. The Australian looked at me longingly. “I wish I had pyjamas,” he sighed.

For twenty glorious years of my life, Christmas meant sweltering temperatur­es, turkey dinners in the garden, swimming and factor 50 sun cream. Then I came here to savour the delights of freezing rain, sleet and howling winds. Good times!

The Irish, being Irish, don’t let a little thing like bad weather slow them down. For that, I salute you. It’s freezing, but that doesn’t stop people getting it on — quite the opposite, in fact. During the holiday season, unplanned pregnancie­s and sexually transmitte­d infections spike. This, of course, ise due to the vast quantities of alcohol consumed, prompting people to make risky decisions. There’s an upsurge in engagement­s too — probably for much the same reason.

It is thought that up to 51 percent of women in Ireland are at risk of an unplanned pregnancy over December. This is because parties screw up our routine and we forget to take the pill or because we have trouble renewing contracept­ion prescripti­ons over the holidays.

Likewise, according to Irish health authoritie­s, December is “traditiona­lly the peak transmissi­on period” for STIs. Most of these are diagnosed between January and March the following year, and they are the result of people foregoing condoms because of the holiday cheer. Which is my subtle way of saying they had too much to drink.

But on to happier statistics! In 2016, almost a fifth of all proposals in the UK took place in December, most of them in the week before Christmas. It might be the booze, but I suspect it’s the weather that makes Christmas seem like the perfect time to lock a partner down so you don’t have to suffer the indignitie­s of a cold and lonely bed.

Our desire for sexual and romantic intimacy is not dampened by the cold — although personally I require central heating — but it is even more surprising that people manage to have satisfying sex (or at least sex) despite being inundated by all manner of cheesy innuendos for four whole weeks in December.

Christmas, unfortunat­ely, lends itself to puns about “stuffing stockings”; “sliding down chimneys”; “jiggling bells” and, lest we forget, the old “ho, ho, ho.” After a woman has dealt with more than one drunken Santa asking her to sit on his lap, her tolerance for Christmas-related pick-up lines and ribaldry hits an all-time low and stays there. Season of goodwill? I don’t think so.

To make matters worse, makers of Christmas jumpers have gotten in on the act. Wooly affairs with bad puns, horny snowmen and over-excited Santas abound. There’ are almost as many “naughty” jumpers as “nice” ones. Gah! Now

I’m doing it too! Christmas puns are infectious!

Then there are the truly odd Christmas sex tips. Granted, I understand the pressure writers of lifestyle columns are under. It’s pretty hard to give sex tips some festive flair, unless you throw a Santa hat or naughty elf into the mix.

Having said that, there is really no need for

"the madness of the post-Christmas sales bedamned— we carry on fucking and falling in love."

this: “Find the biggest and longest ribbon at your local gift shop and mummify yourself with it (in a sexy way, of course).” Mummify yourself? Mummify? That’s courtesy of lifestyle website, SheKnows, who also suggest you “grab your guy, strap on red noses, and play your own reindeer game.” I am not sure exactly what it is SheKnows is supposed to know, but she’d be better off keeping it to herself.

In fairness, those are no worse than AskMen’s suggestion that blokes should slather their dangly bits in frosting. Which would be hilarious for a few minutes and almost certainly result in a yeast infection. Ho, ho, ho, AskMen, ho, ho, ho.

Last, but certainly not least, are the Christmast­hemed sex toys. Santa dildos, musical reindeer cock socks, gingerbrea­d lube, snowman paddles, and even — Cthulhu save us all — Baby Jesus butt plugs. We live in a world where you can buy that – but I can’t find pyjamas that are both sexy and warm, and ideally with pockets. Where’s the sense in that? That’s just a whole new awful level of wrong, and possibly the final proof that Christmas may have reached it nadir.

By all that is right and good, this should mean that December is the unsexiest time of the year. But it’s not. This is because the human spirit endures even at the most taxing of times. Family drama, spilt gravy, the madness of the post-Christmas sales bedamned— we carry on fucking and falling in love. It’s rather wonderful really. Have a very merry Christmas and a happy new year!

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