About: |
Why are my vagina and I crying ourselves to sleep
every night? Isn't this America, land of the
be-a-woman-and-get-great-sex-anytime? I even have a
button. Press it right, and sex will happen. Good sex!!
But do I really want to go through another terrible
hook-up? Can I really take the horror of a rocker dude
who's snorted too much blow to have a rock hard love
wand? I didn't come over because I wanted to spend
four hours coaxing a dong into cooperation. I wanted
your sexual prowess to SMACK me into submission.
How about trying out the older gent in hopes that,
like everyone says, he has pleasing a woman all
figured out? Not surprisingly, I found the old-man
groaning to be too distracting for me to enjoy myself
at all. And just because I'm young doesn't mean I'm
going to call you Daddy. Cause that's gross. I already
have a Daddy, and I don't want to be involved with his
penis in any way, At all.
Perhaps the charming friend could be a good partner. I
still vote that sex with friends can work out...unless
of course a) they want to shove their balls into my
mouth to near-asphyxiation or b) they think that
sleeping with me means that I suddenly want to receive
love letters with lube enclosed.
I'm a progressive, intelligent lady and don't expect
people to adhere to old fashioned gender roles but
DAMMIT MEN. BE MEN.
It's so easy. I'll stroke your penis as well as your
ego, perhaps even intentionally squealing loudly so
the neighbors will know of your manhood. I'll be a
willing participant in any kink. I'll wear a
cheerleader outfit. I'll let you toss me around. I'll
growl and bite and then raise my voice five octaves
when I come (if you make me). Dammit I'll make you
feel like a man.
All I expect of you is that you make me feel like a
woman. That is, act like my vagina is the Arc of the
Covenant. Sigh, moan, sweat, clench your teeth, rub,
mumble curse words in disbelief. Let me know that
being between my legs makes you want to bust in five
seconds, but hold it until I'm all done.
I'm going to get a margarita.
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