How to half-arse an obligatory birthday sex session

FANTASIES of being forced into sex are common. Fantasies of being obligated to go down are non-existent, because the blowjob you’re guilted into pleases nobody. 

But if you’re in a relationship, sex on your birthday is as expected as your partner lying about porn. And not just a quick endorphin release fuck: oral at the very least.

So if it’s definitely happening once a year – twice if you’re the Queen – and there’s no getting out of it, you might as well plan to get it over with. It’s not your bloody birthday after all, and if it was you wouldn’t have asked for a mouthful of fanny.

Think ahead

It takes more than a thoughtful gift to get you out of it. Total spend excludes giving head. But springing for an evening out on the big day, which seems always to fall on a Tuesday when you’re not in a foreplay mood, is strategic.

A ten-course taster menu or a trip to a theatre that’s two hours away means that by the time you’re home it’s close to midnight and there’s little time for anything adventurous. You might even get away with a hand job and then sleep. Boom. All over for another year.

Stay at home

If you stay in your own drab home, with sex-extinguisher children lightly sleeping just across the hall, expectations are pre-managed. Make the mistake of treating your nearest and dearest to a birthday night in a four-poster in the Lake District, or to be honest just a neat double in a clean and functional Premier Inn, you’re inviting depravity.

Crazed with the unfamiliarity of the surroundings, your normally tired wife will ride you like you’re a Derby winner then expect to be lavishly finished off with little or no regard for your twinging lumbar. Keep everyone’s hopes low by sticking to your own bed with sheets that haven’t been washed in a month.


If he’s insisting on making it the main event, like he’s still attracted to you or something, then cue up the greatest hits. Use the underwear from a few years back, lower the lighting so he can’t tell it’s gone grey in the wash, and encourage him to tear it off if he wants to. Sexy and saves you a trip to the charity shop.


Like a magician, if you lay on the flash and patter your audience won’t even notice that the showstopper ended with a quick fingering – the kind that ends with you saying ‘did you come?’ and her replying ‘not sure.’ Diamond jewellery is a great alternative to cunnilingus, and fake diamonds are way harder to spot than fake orgasms.

Pace youself

Can’t be arsed? Put effort into planning your lack of effort in advance. Pull tricks like holding back on their favourite sex act so it comes as a novelty on the night. And, if all else fails, there’s always anal.

Sign up now to get
The Daily Mash
free Headlines email – every weekday

Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th

Do you remember your first kiss? Of course you do, it was only last Wednesday.

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th

Ironic that Tom Cruise would fail the height requirement to be a fighter pilot isn’t it? Not really. That’s not what irony is.

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st

You’ve cleverly beaten the hosepipe ban by running it up your leg and out of your fly, making it appear you’re simply walking around your garden taking an infinite piss.

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd

Is your favourite Bond Timothy Dalton? You may be entitled to compensation.

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd

Environmentally disastrous, sure, but it would be fucking funny to see Liz Truss reopen all the coal mines.

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd

A business guru/keynote speaker/SEO expert wants to connect with you on LinkedIn! Little old you! This could be your lucky break!

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd

Breakdancing BA Hons, three-year course teaching basic and advanced breakdancing moves, the history of Bronx B-Boys and philosophy. Average graduate salary £85,600 pa.

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd

In the recently released uncut edition of Gone With The Wind, Rhett Butler says ‘Frankly you bitch, I couldn’t give a fucking shit.’

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st

Fuck watercolour classes. If old people are so hungry to paint shit, let’s get them painting bridges.

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th

Self-driving car? What’s next, self-shitting trousers?

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th

Oh so asking how much the newborn baby weighed at birth is normal, but asking how much the mother weighed is ‘in poor taste’?

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th

The Red Arrows should stop pissing about and have a crash.