Love hurts in 69 ways and counting

I’VE noticed over the last few weeks that we have a new addition to this page in the form of the Ecstasy Aunt, an erotic advice columnist. I’m quite pleased about it actually; it’s a bit of a relief not to be the only one lowering the tone of this paper every week.

As you may have already gath- ered, crazy sex stuff fascinates me. Have you seen that show called Sex Sent Me to the ER, which premiered in the States in December and flights here on one of the dodgy channels? Every week actors and sometimes the participants/victims/freaks re-enact real-life incidents and accidents that happened to them during sex and landed them in the ER.

One episode showed a woman who suffered a three-hour orgasm which was so intense her husband had to rush her to the hospital. As she lay prostrate on the hospital bed crying out loudly, the doctor asked her on a scale of one to 10 how much pain she was in. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, throat raspy from shouting out so much, she said: “Zero!”

In another episode, the sheer weight of a 200kg man losing his virginity to his 22-year-old girlfriend sent her flying backwards and her head went right through the wall.

Spare a thought for the couple who raced to the ER after he’d given her one of those giant jelly-baby gummy bears and they’d decided to melt it and let him lick it off her.

But after four minutes in the microwave, it was more like molten lava than molten jelly baby. When he poured it onto her she discovered it didn’t cool on the skin like wax does — it was like her chest was on fire. He tried to lick it off but then his tongue was on fire.

I just have so many questions; Ecstasy Aunt would have a field day. For example: how many cigarettes did the orgasm lady smoke once it was all over? And to the gummy-bear pair: lady, was it as goo for you as it was for him?

The only sex injuries I’ve sustained made me walk like a cowboy after a great long weekend, plus the occasional broken, scratched and fractured heart. So I asked around my dodgy girlfriends to see if any of them had ever screwed their way into the casualty ward.

One remembers a bad calf spasm, another broke her arm when her guy rolled onto her mid-action. Then there was the chilli on the fingers incident of 2009 — they had to dunk his enchilada in a tub of yoghurt to cool it down. Everyone has those foodie friends.

Then there was the bad case of misthrust, when a friend’s boyfriend got carried away and rammed her in the bottom. She fainted and he thought he’d killed her. That’ll teach him.

Even better are the excuses my friends made as to how they got their injuries. A girlfriend who got bad carpet burn all down her spine during floor sex one summer, told everyone at the office she’d fallen down stairs.

Another one rolled off the bed onto a bottle of peach schnapps (it was the ’ 90s) and cut her neck, then told her mother she’d walked into a thorn bush.

And the cheating bastard friend of a friend who cut his penis during sex with a woman he met at the gym, and then told his wife he’d caught his willy in his zip.

I was going to ask Ecstasy Aunt how many different injuries one can possibly have in the sack. Surely those just about cover it? But I see that season two of Sex Sent Me to the ER just started in the US, with another 35 episodes lined up. And a Chicago doctor reported dealing with sex injuries in his ER about twice a week, so it looks like we’re not running out of mad erotic casualties any time soon.

I suppose we’re all just looking to keep our relationships fresh, or for that new position or toy that will make bonking even more fun. Any ideas, Ecstasy Aunt? I’m asking for a friend. LS