Sex by Candlelight Isn’t Cheesy

It’s the perfect lighting for a romp in the sack

To celebrate my one-year anniversary with Mr. Austin, I had planned a weekend getaway for us. But I also wanted to do something special on the day of our anniversary.

Naturally, I thought that we should have some highly romantic sex.

Mr. Austin was gone for a 10-hour work shift that would end at two in the morning. So, I had plenty of time to set the scene and surprise him.

I bought 365 tealight candles (one for every day we had been together) and filled our little studio apartment with them.

What can I say? I’m extra.

I spent all evening placing candles on every goddamn surface I could find — stovetop, stereo, bedframe our little fold-out tables, and I even perched a couple on the toaster.

I was sure this was going to set the perfect mood for romance and sex. What I didn’t realize is that just lighting the candles was going to tire me out (and make the thumb I used to work the lighter really sore).

I also didn’t anticipate just how unbearably hot our place would get. That’s right, I somehow thought I could light 365 little fires and it wouldn’t affect the ambient temperature at all.

Mr. Austin was very pleasantly surprised when he got home. But I had to warn him that even though full-on covering the room with candles is clearly the work of a lady who wanted to fuck, that lady had now been replaced by a tired and overheated woman who just needed to lay down.

We laid in bed and cuddled. He told me he appreciated all the work I put in to make the day special. Though I suspect he felt a little less positively about it when he had to get up and blow out over three hundred individual candles. (Nothing says “I love you” quite like creating a long and pointless chore for your partner.)

Candlelit Coziness

That was one of my last attempts at having sex by candlelight in our early relationship. From then on, we kept our candle count at a much more manageable number.

As I entered my twenties, I started getting a lot more self-conscious about my body and my appearance. Sex by candlelight made way for sex by utter and total darkness.

Even though I fell out of love with my body, I never fell out of love with candles. And since I married a man who is quite fond of them, too (he’s a soy boy, after all), I always have plenty in my home.

Throughout my twenties, candles became a seasonal thing. As soon as the leaves start to change colors, I start watching for sales at Bath & Body Works and I pounce on the first one that offers two-for-one deals. Because it’s not fall until I can go for a haul that will keep us in three-wick cinnamony, peachy, and holiday-appropriate scented candles until mid-spring.

This year, though, I shopped differently.

I got all the usual ones that I like to light when we’re cozying up with some hot chocolate.

But my sex drive has been in a slow but noticeable upswing this year, so I also bought some scented candles that would be appropriate for the bedroom.

Sex By Candlelight

Since giving my sex life a second wind, I’ve started to make peace with my appearance. I still feel self-conscious about my body, but I don’t hide it under darkness, a tank top, or a blanket while having sex anymore.

I just bare it all for my husband to see. But I’d rather he not see it super clearly. There’s no need for LED bulbs when we’re fucking — it’s not a porno set.

I like that Mr. Austin can get a good look at my body, and I can get a good look at his. I just don’t think he needs to be able to count the pores on my face, that’s all.

Candlelight is the perfect middle ground. Bright enough to actually see each other, but not so bright that we feel over-exposed.

And importantly, bright enough to see what we’re doing. It’s nice to have smooth, streamlined sex. Pitch blackness made me comfortable, but clumsily fumbling in the dark and the ever-present worry that something would try to go in the wrong hole did not.

(It hasn’t been an issue, but a gal’s gotta keep her guard up.)

It also sets the right mood for every sensual and sexual activity. Lighting a candle is all it takes to transform our bedroom from “The room we watch vlogs in” to our personal little sex oasis.

Unlike our bedside lamp and the boob light on our ceiling, the candle leaves just enough darkness to wash out our surroundings so we can be even more focused on each other.

It’s a sexy ambiance. There’s something about the dim, flickery light that just puts me in the perfect mood for a massage and some foreplay. But it’s not just a setup for romantic, Red Shoe Diaries-style softcore lovemaking — I also find it perfect for raunchy, hardcore fucking.

Mr. Austin likes unscented candles for reading, but the ones in our bedroom all have a scent specifically selected for its suitability for sex. I prefer a peachy scent, but I’m happy to think outside of that box once in a while.

I love when sex is a multi sensory experience. Obviously, there are all the physical sensations involved, but I also love some good visuals and to have my ears filled with moans, groans, and dirty talk. Scent is part of that, too, and ideally it’s a more pleasant one than sweat.

For all those reasons, I’m going to keep a steady supply of sex candles. I might not be into having hot wax dripped on my nipples, but I am very much into creating a great atmosphere for any kind of play.

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