Prepare the Sphinx

Anyone who has ever been to our place for dinner knows how raucous and ribald the conversation can get. Joe and I live with two great guys, G and CL, and we try to have meals together whenever our schedules allow. Of course, with four guys, things can get a bit bawdy. We’re working on censoring ourselves; or, more accurately, we’re cognizant of the fact that when our family expands to include a child, we’ll have to be more mindful of our language and our tendency to engage in conversations of an adult nature at the dinner table.

Anyway, tonight G was talking about a Cypriot girl he dated back when he was in graduate school. He mentioned that she was a bit squeamish when it came to sex—about fucking in particular—and he thought she might have been a virgin, and I asked half jokingly if he went in through the, er, back door so that she could preserve her virginity until marriage. It seems this is a still a big concern for Mediterranean girls.

I’ve heard stories about how for centuries, mothers throughout the Mediterranean world—from Spain to Syria—have instructed their daughters to take it up the ass when their boyfriends insist on sex before marriage. G couldn’t confirm this since he doesn’t have any sisters, but he did say that the few times he tried anal sex with Turkish girls, it was painful and uncomfortable for them. He explained that it was back when he was younger and less experienced. It was, in his words, back before he knew how to “prepare the Sphinx.”

I think he meant sphincter.