Ten Romantic Ways to Enjoy The Last Weeks of Summer

By Nisha Ramirez for CupidsPulse.com

Summer’s almost over, and soon, the itch to leave your office and get outside to enjoy warm weather will be a thing of the past. Although being in a relationship during the cooler months is full of cuddling in order to stay warm, but nothing beats summer romance. Whether you met someone special this summer and you still want to create your own summer nights like those from Grease or you’re looking for a new romantic way to end the summer with your steady partner, you’ll find being creative is the best way to let the season end. Skip the clichéd beach picnic date and try one of these ten romantic ways to enjoy the last weeks of summer instead:

Related: Enjoy the Summer Together Like Halle Berry and Olivier Martinez

1. Love is thicker than water: Grab a bag of water balloons and go crazy! Enjoy water during the heat while you can, because before you know it, the next duel you’ll be sharing will be a cold snowball fight. So where is the romance? Seeing each other wet and bouncing around is sure to inspire love touches and raise the level of heat so that the water won’t be able to cool it down.

2. Sweat is sexy: Playing a sport is always incredibly sexy. A great choice during the summer is volleyball. Hit the beach and wear your sexiest swimsuit and you’ll be sure to give your partner a heat stroke. Play on each other’s team for plenty of friendly camaraderie and don’t be afraid to sweat.

3. Take a cruise: It might be expensive to take a ride on a cruise ship, but don’t underestimate the fun you can have cruising around on a car trip. Driving is an all-season romantic trip, but it really rocks when it’s warm out. Forget the air conditioner and roll down all the windows for a warm summer breeze. Try singing along to every song on the radio.

4. Enjoy your own holiday: Who says Independence Day is the only summer holiday? Check out dailyholidys.net for last minute holidays to celebrate before the summer’s up. August 1 is Girlfriend Day and August 2 is National Night Out. Make it fun and promise to celebrate every holiday on the calendar.

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Two Weeks

Between Ben’s crazy work hours, and my work stress and friend stress and wedding stress, I had completely overlooked the fact that it had been two weeks since Ben and I had gotten it on. For us, two weeks is unheard of. And because I’m me, and because when I’m stressed out, I’m extra me, I started to panic a little bit.

This was my chain of thought:

Is this really what happens when you get married? No sex, ever?

Why hasn’t Ben been trying to get in my pants? Is he still attracted to me?

OMFG I AM GOING TO HAVE A SEXLESS MARRIAGE AND WE WILL BOTH HAVE AFFAIRS WITH OUR TRAINERS AT THE GYM AND WIND UP DIVORCED.

I realized, of course, that I was being silly. I mean, I don’t even have a trainer! Later that day, I also realized I had PMS when I began weeping openly while watching a video of a puppy who had been adopted by an orangutan. I thought. And see if you have any clean, sexy underwear.

As it turns out, I did have clean and sexy underwear—a complicated lace and ribbon number that tied on the sides. And when I emerged from Ben’s bathroom wearing those panties with a pair of heels and nothing else, his eyes bugged out of his head.

“Um, hello,” he said as I straddled him on the couch. “Who are you and what have you done with my frazzled fiancee?”

“You talk too much,” I said with a grin, kissing him hard and pushing him back into the couch. In record time, his pants and boxers were off, and before he could get his shirt off, I lowered myself onto him. And it was over before it barely even got started, for both of us.

“Whoa,” Ben said. I could feel his heart racing through his chest. “That was just, whoa.”

“Maybe not having sex for two weeks isn’t the worst thing in the world,” I said with a sigh.

“What? It hasn’t been two weeks.”

I went back over the last two weeks, and what we’d done—and not done—each night that we’d been together.

“Two weeks,” Ben said incredulously, and then caught himself. “Wait, is that why you just got all porn star on me? Because you were worried that it had been that long?”

“No,” I mumbled.

“It totally is! You thought that we were never going to have sex again because we were getting married.”

“Shut up.”

“Were you all like, 'OMG, if I don’t do something drastic, our sex life will be over?' Is that what you were like?”

"Actually, no," I said. "You're wrong. I said OMFG."

Ben laughed. “Well, I don't think we have anything to worry about," he said. I would have to agree.

Posted at 12:42 PM

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Two Weeks

Between Ben’s crazy work hours, and my work stress and friend stress and wedding stress, I had completely overlooked the fact that it had been two weeks since Ben and I had gotten it on. For us, two weeks is unheard of. And because I’m me, and because when I’m stressed out, I’m extra me, I started to panic a little bit.

This was my chain of thought:

Is this really what happens when you get married? No sex, ever?

Why hasn’t Ben been trying to get in my pants? Is he still attracted to me?

OMFG I AM GOING TO HAVE A SEXLESS MARRIAGE AND WE WILL BOTH HAVE AFFAIRS WITH OUR TRAINERS AT THE GYM AND WIND UP DIVORCED.

I realized, of course, that I was being silly. I mean, I don’t even have a trainer! Later that day, I also realized I had PMS when I began weeping openly while watching a video of a puppy who had been adopted by an orangutan. I thought. And see if you have any clean, sexy underwear.

As it turns out, I did have clean and sexy underwear—a complicated lace and ribbon number that tied on the sides. And when I emerged from Ben’s bathroom wearing those panties with a pair of heels and nothing else, his eyes bugged out of his head.

“Um, hello,” he said as I straddled him on the couch. “Who are you and what have you done with my frazzled fiancee?”

“You talk too much,” I said with a grin, kissing him hard and pushing him back into the couch. In record time, his pants and boxers were off, and before he could get his shirt off, I lowered myself onto him. And it was over before it barely even got started, for both of us.

“Whoa,” Ben said. I could feel his heart racing through his chest. “That was just, whoa.”

“Maybe not having sex for two weeks isn’t the worst thing in the world,” I said with a sigh.

“What? It hasn’t been two weeks.”

I went back over the last two weeks, and what we’d done—and not done—each night that we’d been together.

“Two weeks,” Ben said incredulously, and then caught himself. “Wait, is that why you just got all porn star on me? Because you were worried that it had been that long?”

“No,” I mumbled.

“It totally is! You thought that we were never going to have sex again because we were getting married.”

“Shut up.”

“Were you all like, 'OMG, if I don’t do something drastic, our sex life will be over?' Is that what you were like?”

"Actually, no," I said. "You're wrong. I said OMFG."

Ben laughed. “Well, I don't think we have anything to worry about," he said. I would have to agree.

Posted at 12:42 PM

Find your date here