No Son Of Mine Is Going To Have Premarital Sex In My House. No, He’ll Have It In The Garage… That’s Where The Magic Happens!

As the devoted father of two teenage boys, it has always been my sworn duty to protect the values of my children. Unfortunately, ever since my boys started high school, it has gotten increasingly difficult to keep their hormones in check. 

However, as a father who loves his children, I have made it my responsibility to make sure that my boys act honorably. And respectfully.

That’s why, when it comes to dating, I’ve decided that no son of mine is going to have premarital sex in my house!

No. If one of my sons is going to be having premarital sex, then he sure as hell better be doing it out in the garage… 

Because that’s where the magic happens, baby!

Let’s face it folks, in today’s lewd times, our impressionable youngsters need to be protected from their basest instincts. And, as a man with a certain sense of propriety, I have promised that my two sons will NEVER have premarital sex in my house. I mean, just think about it… My son Jeffrey awkwardly fumbling around with his girlfriend in the confines of a cramped, childhood bedroom? Or my son Adam breaking the sacred bonds of matrimonial bliss while in our home’s dusty (and thoroughly unromantic) attic? 

Um… In my house? Under my roof???

It makes me sick just thinking about it.

I’m sorry, but if (and when) one of my sons breaks the sacred bonds of matrimonial bliss, then he best be doing it in our charming, romantic (and hot-as-hell) garage… because that’s where the magic goes down! 

Not convinced? Just close your eyes while I set the scene for you: imagine the dim, seductive glow of a sensual, half-lit garage; the enticing smell of old wood varnish and mildew hanging in the air like an impenetrable cloud of pheromones; the hot pleather seats of my 2010 Miata rubbing against bare skin; the overwhelming sense of claustrophobia; the golf clubs in the corner; that erotic feeling of being both indoors and outdoors at the same exact time…

Hoo boy. Now that’s what premarital sex is all about, baby!

That’s the kind of life-defining experience that you just can’t get inside of the home.

And, as a father, it’s important that my Jeffrey and Adam understand that.

Because, at the end of the day, these are the kind of decisions that will stay with my children for the rest of their lives. And I KNOW that when my boys grow out of their rebellious teenage years, get married, and look back on the many choices that shaped their tumultuous adolescence… I want them to remember the times that they almost had premarital sex in the house.

And, as they’re thinking about those moments, I want them to hold back a tear of nostalgia, smile wryly, and then say to themselves: “I’m glad I waited…”

Then I want them to clarify that sentence by saying: “More specifically, I’m glad that I waited until I got out of the house… and got into the garage. Because that was some good premarital sex!”

“Waaaay better than if it had happened in a bedroom!”

Anyways, I’ve said my piece. And I’m sure that most of us are on the same page here. But, for anyone still on the fence, just remember: there is nothing more-important than preserving the honor of our young and impressionable adolescents. Especially in the confines of the house.

And, obviously, when I say “house,” I’m clearly just talking about regular houses over here.

Because if we’re talking about garages. Or sheds. Or saunas. Or mobile homes. Or cottages. Or empty classrooms. Or summer camp. Or locker rooms. Or kayaks. Or tree houses. Or boat houses… 

Man, oh man. Now that’s a different story altogether!