“Vacation” and “sex” were once my two favorite words. Put them together and you’ve got the mecca of pleasure: a romp in Egyptian cotton sheets followed by a juicy room service cheeseburger. Can you say sex in Italian? I can — “sesso” — because my husband and I copulated our way across the country early in our relationship. On our honeymoon in Hawaii two decades ago, we barely left our room and nearly missed the luau. Every getaway back then offered foreplay with a view.

And then we had a kid.

Still, the lure of vacation sex beckons. And not just for me and my husband. According to a survey conducted for the book “Tell Me What You Want: The Science of Sexual Desire and How It Can Help You Improve Your Sex Life,” 90% of people fantasized about sex in a hotel.

“All couples put ‘vacation sex’ on a pedestal because we’re more relaxed and playful when we get out of our daily routines,” says sex therapist Emily Morse, author of “Smart Sex: How to Boost Your Sex IQ and Own Your Pleasure” and host of the podcast “Sex With Emily.” “But we shouldn’t lose that intimacy because we travel with kids.”

So when my husband and I decided to celebrate 20 years of marriage by returning to Maui with our mercurial teen daughter Tess in tow, we vowed to get it on at least once on our trip. We started with a rough strategy: booking a 640-square-foot room with two queen beds. If you’re in the mood to get frisky during your family vacation, here are some tips to consider.

Plan like a pro

If you want to engage in some intimate time, add it to your itinerary before you take off. “You have to schedule sex like you schedule snorkeling or any excursion,” says Morse. “If you wait around for it to happen, it won’t happen.”

Sophie Pierce, a mom to three daughters ages 8, 9 and 14, doesn’t take chances when she and her husband ex-Navy SEAL Neil Mahoney travel. They think — and act — ahead, so they’re not completely disappointed if it doesn’t happen during the trip. “We always have sex the night before we leave for a family vacation, just in case,” says Pierce, the founder of three dance studios in Los Angeles. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t try.”

My husband and I didn’t have a strategy before we left L.A., but I did sneak sensual incidentals like lacy lingerie and a discreet bottle of lubricant into my suitcase. “Pack a sex toy too,” advises Morse, who says we’re more likely to be open to experimentation away from home. We agreed not to bring any work responsibilities on our trip. We’re both screenwriters, so we’re constantly polishing a script or crafting a pitch. I figured that by eliminating the stress of meeting deadlines, we upped the chances of having sex.

Lean into the hotel’s kid activities

Hotels and resorts see you, exhausted parents. Properties are upping their game for young guests with more exciting programming and cooler kids clubs. At the Ojai Valley Inn’s “night camp,” for instance, you can sign the children up for a scavenger hunt followed by dinner, a movie and s’mores. (Surely, that buys you enough time for a romp.) La Quinta Resort & Club in the desert offers junior pickleball clinics, along with massages and facials for tweens and teens up to age 15. At Alisal Ranch in Solvang, kids can hang out at the bar and paint horseshoes or take a riding lesson. Got littler ones? Some clubs, like Kidtopia at the Omni La Costa in Carlsbad, cater to infants (6 months and older) with nurseries on-site. Many hotels also offer babysitting services.

Note that clubs typically cater to the toddler-through-12 set. But there are exceptions, like the teen club at Grand Velas in Los Cabos that programs TikTok challenges, dance-offs at a dedicated nightclub with a DJ and karaoke events. At the Grand Wailea where we stayed, however, teens like my daughter Tess just side-eyed each other in the lobby. There was a family lounge on the property with darts and virtual reality, but it wasn’t a magnet for adolescents during our stay.

“We’re not comfortable getting sitters we don’t know on vacation,” says Pierce, who, instead, might pretend to leave the sunscreen in the room and put her teen daughter in charge to duck away from the hotel pool for a quickie with her husband. Or put the younger girls in a shared tub, but take the bath towels and mat so they can’t interrupt mom and dad in the bedroom. (Clearly, Pierce’s kids are way into self-care.)

For middle school teacher Vanessa Orellana — mom to a daughter, 6, and 1-year-old twins — the windows of opportunity for adult time on vacation call for quiet. “Between hotel beds that squeak and the in-laws’ walls, we’ve identified two golden windows for potential action: nap time and post-bedtime,” she says. “But even then, success is a coin toss. Our 8-year-old could pop up like a ninja, asking for water.”

Be flexible

Life happens, even on vacation. Prepare to pivot to plan B. My husband and I sent our daughter on an errand one morning at the 40-acre Maui resort, but she came back to fetch her AirPods and interrupted our marathon kiss. We shrugged it off and then held hands by the pool. Morse advises: “With kids, you may have to redefine intimacy on your trip. It could be flirting or even just making out after they go to bed.”

Pierce and her husband know their sex will be quick, if it happens at all. One dad of a toddler told me he and his husband have a ritual in which they text erotic messages to each other when they’re on vacation — and then promptly delete them. Just be sure to manage your expectations and laugh at any aborted attempts at intimacy.

“We’ve got an unspoken agreement: no guilt, no grumbling. Just a ‘to be continued’ knowing glance,” says Orellana. “It’s about connection, trust and keeping the spark alive through the sheer chaos of life with little humans.”

In the end, my husband and I did not get lucky. On our final night in Maui, we hit nearby award-winning restaurant Ko, where kids eat for 50% off. Unfortunately, a huge dinner of fresh crudo, lobster tempura, octopus and kobe beef — along with multiple desserts — made us shudder at the idea of any activity. So we had failed at our grand plan. But was our vacation ruined? Not at all. Ultimately, my family bonded in a way that doesn’t come easy with a teen. We swam with turtles, thrift-shopped around upcountry and held hands (for three whole seconds) while watching a sunset.

And on our first night back at home, my husband and I finally had sex. No fancy sheets or room service, but I did shout, “Aloooha!”

For plenty of folks, the first Tuesday after Memorial Day marks the first “true” day of summer: Sun! Sand! Baseball! Indigestion! Sunburn! Heatstroke? Reckless whales?!

OK, you’re right, what were we thinking — it’s way too dangerous out there. Much safer to stay indoors, close the blinds and wait for winter and a good book. Good thing this week’s publishing highlights, all fiction, present plenty of opportunities for escape. Why not get away to London or Malaysia, or go spelunking in the mind of a sociopath, all from the thermostat-managed comfort of your own home?

Beware of papercuts, though — that could easily turn into a Stephen King-esque nightmare scenario if you’re not ready.

Autocorrect: Stories, by Etgar Keret, translated by Jessica Cohen and Sondra Silverston

Keret, a doyen of the short story, typically takes his task quite literally: Whatever else it may be, a story by the Israeli writer is quite likely to be short. That’s true as well in Autocorrect, the latest of the Israeli writer’s collections to be translated into English. Most of the stories here last no more than a handful of pages. But don’t mistake his characteristic concision and humor for flippancy. Some of these stories — originally published in Hebrew, in the long shadow of the Oct. 7 attacks and the war in Gaza — hit like a punch to the gut from a passing stranger.

Consider Yourself Kissed, by Jessica Stanley

In at least one sense, Stanley didn’t have to go far to generate drama for her second novel: Its backdrop is the truly tumultuous past decade in British politics, which the Australian expat experienced herself living in London. But noisy as they may be, Brexit, Covid and the revolving door of prime ministers just add flavor to this book’s entree: a romance between a political journalist and an aspiring novelist who struggles to balance their “happily ever after” — complete with cute kids, et al — with the independent sense of self that all this familial contentment threatens to drown.

Never Flinch, by Stephen King

Holly Gibney is back — though it’s not as if she really left for long. Lately the eccentric private detective has rounded into a marquee player in King’s troupe of recurring characters. She has appeared in seven of King’s books in the decade or so since her introduction in Mr. Mercedes, and finally got her own book, titled Holly, in 2023. In this two-pronged thriller, Gibney gets called upon both to protect a women’s rights activist and prevent a mysterious killer from following through on an audacious threat.

Farrar, Straus and Giroux

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The South, by Tash Aw

Back in 2010, famed librarian Nancy Pearl slipped a rather audacious declaration into an otherwise innocuous article: “I believe that someday Aw will win a well-deserved Nobel Prize for Literature.” Now, that prediction hasn’t come true yet, but the 50-something Malaysian novelist still has time — and a growing bibliography that has only attracted more passionate fans since then. Now based in the U.K., Aw in his latest novel returns to Malaysia for the story of a family seeking to revive an inherited farm, with the son center-stage, coming of age and into young queer love.

The Stalker, by Paula Bomer

Doughty, the star of Bomer’s latest novel, courts comparisons to Patrick Bateman and Tom Ripley. Manipulative, unbridled by morals, as deceptive with others as they are with themselves — only, it appears that Doughty is also unbridled by brains. The saga of this dim and dastardly striver is streaked through with pitch-black humor.