But also, you are a human male. You feel the urge to fill the post-coital air with your words — your dumb, inane, unnecessary words. It’s as inevitable for us as it is painful — like being an avid road cyclist and facing the danger of crashing; it’s not a question of if you will screw everything up, but when. You’ll say something regrettable, and then you’ll apologize, or wring your hands as you scramble to explain yourself and try make it right — or possibly dig yourself further into a hole. It’s not the the end of the world when it happens — but it is a needlessly awkward exchange, one that, with training and preparation, can be avoided.
