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There are few things that’ll get us Brits as hot under the collar as a proper heatwave, but this one has probably over-delivered, with temperatures predicted to reach over 40°C. And as hysteria swirls around predictions that tarmac could melt under our very feet or that railway lines could come to a standstill at any given moment, shagging probably isn’t high on most people’s to-do lists. But maybe it should be.
After all, we’ve recently been celebrating the art of acting unhinged, excitedly awaiting feral girl summer while wallowing in springtime rain. A feral girl “embraces the oil in her hair, the smell of her sweat, the primacy of her bodily needs,” as Chelsea G. Summers put it in the last issue of THE FACE. The feral girl becomes her most debased self in this heatwave, fucking whenever (and whoever) she wants. Everyone else should take a leaf out of her book.
Plus, if you’re already sweating from the minute you wake up until the moment you go to bed, squeezing in some sex won’t make much difference. If anything, it’ll probably help you blow off steam after a particularly sticky commute and make that cold evening shower feel even more earned.
Not to mention, people are simply sexier in the summer. They’re wearing less clothes and partying twice as hard as the days run longer. A sense of hedonism is just as palpable as the smell of sunscreen wafting through the air. The mood feels inexplicably horny. And science backs this up: some research suggests that sex-related Google searches spike during the summer months, while vitamin D increases oestrogen and testosterone levels, and by proxy, our libido.
Meanwhile, other studies suggest that male sweat boosts women’s hormone levels, making them that bit more aroused. Maybe that’s what sends Love Islanders into a red-hot frenzy – would Coco have let Andrew “suck her tit or whatever” in any other climate than Majorca’s blazing heat? Lean into this summer’s deranged energy and have sex in the heatwave, I say. One blink and it’ll be over.
Jade Wickes, Staff Writer
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Did you know it’s hot outside? Course you did. It’s all us Brits have been talking about for the past week. Schools are closing, records are being smashed, Rees-Mogg is still wearing a suit (and looking like a twat), and the only means of surviving is taking shelter inside an air-conditioned office and sucking on a Magnum. Apparently, this is soon to become the new normal – in fact, 40 degrees “will seem cool” in Britain in a few decades. Yikes. Warm weather’s nice, yes. But global warming? Not so much.
There are also a load of activities that are made infinitely more strenuous when the temp’s gone up tenfold: sleeping, sitting on the bus, walking for an extended period of time, movement in general, really. And that includes sex.
Shagging in hot weather sounds sexy and turbo-charged, sweaty and intimate like you’re rolling around in a Luca Guadagnino film on an Italian hilltop. But we’re not living in a faraway retreat plucking (apparently) fuckable fruits from trees. We live in Britain, in homes that are designed to insulate, whether it’s summer or winter, resulting in sleepless nights spent tossing and turning like a fed-up puppy during warmer months.
Sex in a heatwave – when the slightest touch feels like an irritating stab, the slip of sweat is nauseating and the added body heat detracts from the point of a fan – is crap. There are better climates to shag in. Also, I don’t like sharing a bed at the best of times, even when it’s with someone I really fancy. I like space, especially in some of the hottest bloody temperatures recorded in this bloody country.
But, with all that said, I’m no prude. Sex in summer is hot. But sex in a heatwave? A rock hard no.
TJ Sidhu, Junior Editor
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Probably best to give it a miss for now, you feral one. Not to worry, though. It won’t be in the mid-30s forever – we hope.