17 Lies Movies Taught Us About Sex

17 Lies Movies Taught Us About Sex

Sex in movies is so much better than sex in real life. It’s just so streamline, everyone has simultaneous orgasms, and even guys with dad bods look hotter than we ever will. How can this be? Are we all doing something wrong? Why is sex not as awesome in real life? Well, I’m here to put your worries to rest, because it’s definitely not our fault. The film industry is just trying to make us look bad—probably so our boyfriends continue to buy porn. I hate to say it, but sex just really isn’t that great. Why else would girls need vibrators? Why else would we want to role play or invest in ridiculous sex toys? Sorry, directors, but we are calling you out on all the movie magic tricks. These things just don’t happen. Ever.

  1. It just slides right in. Let’s be honest, that little guy needs direction and, like, at least a little spit or something. Friction is still a thing.
  2. No one wears underwear. I have to admit that I once went through a brief commando phase, but come on. Everyone? All the time? No. Especially no when skirts are involved. How about adding a scene where the girl struggles in the bathroom to remove her spanx? Now that’s entertainment.
  3. Being sexy is the easiest thing ever. Why isn’t there a class for this stuff yet?
  4. Having sex in public places is so incredibly hot. Contrary to popular belief, doing it in a bathroom stall covered with miscellaneous bodily fluids and bacterial growth is not appealing in the least.
  5. Sexy hair lasts forever. Mermaid hair my ass. If your hair isn’t a knotted mess after 30 seconds of shimmying under the sheets, you’re doing something wrong.
  6. Slow sex is the hottest sex. Don’t get me wrong, I like it slow sometimes, too. But the lights are usually off, and I don’t have to see how awkward we both look fucking each other like sloths.
  7. Clothes come off in seconds. Like, can we have a quick talk about pants buttons? How do those things even work? And LOL at boys trying to unhook bras!
  8. You can do it a hundred times and it’s no big deal. I’ve never had a baby, but I assume the day after repeated sexcapades feels similar to that of a mother recovering from childbirth. Again, friction is still a thing.
  9. Girls keep their bras on. I get it. Romcoms have to keep their PG-13 rating somehow. But in all honesty, the shirt and bra are the first things to go. Boys with erections aren’t exactly the most patient when it comes to the boob reveal.
  10. Everyone wants to have sex all the time. Oh wait, that one might be true. It is for boys anyway, amirite or amirite?
  11. Nerdy guys get the hottest girls. Only if he’s the hot type of nerdy. Like, a young physics professor with full head of hair, a five o’clock shadow at 9 a.m., and sexy tattoos peaking out from his rolled up sleeves. (I’m totally not speaking from experience or anything.)
  12. Hot girls get the guys that genuinely care about them. El. Oh. El.
  13. Sweat glistens lightly on your skin. A guy’s sweat once dripped from his face and landed directly on mine almost causing me to throw up from an overdose of grossness.
  14. Foreplay pretty much never happens. Seriously, though, you need to warm up the engine before anyone starts punching the throttle.
  15. Guys can always pick up girls and hold them with no problem. Even if your boyfriend works out religiously, and I can bet he’s not picking your ass up to rail you in the shower. That’s a slippery, dangerous slope, my friends. Unless you’re Ariana Grande and he’s the Hulk, odds are you’re not going to get vertical.
  16. After it happens, you’re all cute and cuddly. I usually just pass out–either from drunkenness or pure exhaustion because, let’s face it, this is the most physical activity my body has had all week.
  17. If you have sex, you will get chlamydia—and die. After a few angry text messages and one strong antibiotic, you’ll be just fine. I can’t say as much for your dignity.

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premed donna

Who said you can't be smart and funny? When I'm not writing for TSM, you can find me studying into oblivion, downing a bottle of chardonnay, and/or sobbing for reasons I have yet to understand. All hate fan mail can be sent to

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