My questions about the Mozambican men who chase after stiff-waisted South Africans and whether the legendary tattoos are nothing more than a myth were answered last week.

Sinyora says the tradition originates from the Makonde tribe who practised tattooing of the navel and pubic areas to repel "ghost sex".

To date, many South African superstitious tribes believe that witches send tokoloshes to have sex with young maidens as a way to make them unattractive to the opposite sex.

"Men will always be boys so they are always on a mission to gauge what they know against the unknown, as you might have seen with men from your own block being attracted to women from different towns."

Things got hotter at the second session of our sex lessons. Sarafina demonstrated the reasons for the initial lesson, which was to drench us with reasoning behind wriggling hips. She tells us that in her village chimoio is a girl who is not ready for marriage until she can do the "bed dance", meaning gyrate her waist in anticipation of her new life as a woman.

She glides her navel with the ease I have only imagined for my next life.

Alice gives us turns on the bed as we battle the moves and it's obvious that in each of us lies a pole-dancing diva who has been waiting for a nudge. All girls agree that with practice we can get the hang of this. I was left surprised at the pysche the moves created. But then that's just me.

The lesson to ponder was a tough one though. "If it were up to men, sex would be prescribed for every ailment affecting you or him. So never leave your guy to starve, because someone else will help him. This pitching up and saying yes attitude? It doesn't crack it," warns Sinyora. "You have to want sex, look it and do it like your life depends on it."

You don't say! "Yes they feel it when you are just submitting to their demands and they hate it," adds Alice. "You know when you are all dry and when you fake an orgasm? Most guys know it."

We were then coached on getting in touch with our feminine side. Apparently the genital exercise of pulling the walls together and letting go is not for the honeymoon alone. We should be doing that all the time.

But when do we get to the part where we guide him or his hand on where to touch and how to do it? At this point even my sisters in the struggle come close to spitting on me for rebelling and interrupting. I'm reminded that I came to the sessions knowing full well that it was about acquiring the skills to trick Mr Dazed.

"Leave that kind of talk for the boardroom if you want to laugh all the way down the aisle," whispers an attentive friend, who won't so much as turn her head to make sure I hear her.

I guess I should be grateful that I wasn't in Tselane Tambo's school of etiquette because I was trying to cut the lecture to suit my style and needs.

But while we were so indulged in the "pleasing him" culture and forgoing our own pleasures, I had to object that sometimes to truly enjoy sex one must be a little selfish and tell him to hold it, move faster and sometimes swear a little. "Awungcole! You are so perverted," remarked my colleague again. "Why are you even here in the first place?"

Back in my nest I remarked that perhaps my mileage is too much for this kind of nonsense. Mr Dazed wanted to know my bone of contention and I replied that it was in the thin ice women are made to feel they are walking on that gets to me.

"What did they say?" he probed. "Things like I shouldn't verbalise the things you do to annoy me as they start thriving when I vocalise them."

And what else? "And things like I should picture you sitting on a pedestal, that I should be on my knees when I get down on it..."

The man bubbles with the revelations. "These women are so right. I will gladly pay for your future sessions. Please don't stop now."

So my next two sessions are covered, especially after the comic gyrations I attempted.

They did say to look at the love nest as a place of fun and for that I deserve applause.

l Go to www.sowetan.co.za for the first part of the sex lesson