My first round of research was conducted in a small Melbourne cafe. The two lovely ladies with whom I shared my sauvignon just happened to be law students, so the conversation inevitably turned political.

“Sex and sexism go hand in hand.” Law Lady No. 1 exclaimed. “The way that heterosexual seduction is structured by society is totally patriarchal, even today.”

“Feminism and flirtation? Maybe…” I was unsure.

“Definitely,” Law Lady No. 2 concluded. “Why is it still a problem for a woman to seek her own sexual gratification? She’s either labelled a slut or she’s expected to act coy and silly—it’s ridiculous.”

We moved on to debate where we should seek sexual gratification that particular evening, but I couldn’t stop worrying. Have I internalised patriarchy? Do I act coy and silly? I decided that, as someone whose last encounter with ‘seduction’ involved a txt message saying “Are you awake?” I was slightly underqualified to unravel the disturbing politics of heterosexual courtship. I moved on to conduct further research.

My next guinea-pig was 22 and has been with her boyfriend for six years. Six! If their relationship was a kid it would be in prep! Most of my relationships can barely walk before they’re packed off to boarding school, never to be seen again. With vodka-cranberry in hand, I began sex-research 2-point-ohh. It turns out that these high school sweethearts are having just as much fun behind closed doors as their single counterparts.

The age-old myth that couples get bored of the bedroom has an intriguing counter-argument: the better you know someone, the easier they are to please (and vice-versa). Nervousness, insecurity and sexual shyness don’t completely evaporate, but when it’s with someone who really knows you then these anti-sex emotions can somewhat diminish. And if boredom comes creeping then it’s nothing a little sexy lingerie can’t fix.

I saved the best research for last. Whilst enjoying shiraz with friends someone (who, me?) had an idea for a game: everyone should confess the story of their best orgasm. Ever. The erotic anecdotes that followed were utterly amazing. There were tales of sensuous morning sex, revelatory masturbation sessions, sexual games of cat-and-mouse and all kinds of fun with dildos and vibrators. Each story was so different, but by the end we all had identical giggly-grins on our faces. Therefore, the conclusion to my research must be that messy bedrooms the world over have their own unique stories to tell. The mysteries of seduction, relationships and orgasmic good times may never be fully understood (particularly when drunken nights out make certain writers like myself late for Farrago deadlines), but if we listen with mutual respect and understanding then we might discover that the delicious giggly grin is the good kind of infectious.