12/04/08 - Two Hits & He's Out

Another gem from the vault, I wrote this stunning piece of satire on the 4th of December 2008. Wasn't I a pleasant & happy child? It really just reflects on how much I've grown & changed over these years, this time machine is nothing but intriguing.

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 'Two Hits & He's Out' 

I haven't had sex in a minute...or 5. Okay...it feels like years but it's really only been a couple of months since the last round...I think...okay let's not get technical about this cause I have a tendency to forget these things but as I was saying. And I was thinking about it, in depth. Intellectually of course, it's gotten to the point where the very idea of the act disgusts me.

Think about it.

Physically, remove all mental capability from the equation, no one's in love, no one's horny, no one's lonely, no one's anything just basic sex. Kissing them? If you kiss them at all.

When you kiss them and they get all extra into it, they start breathing extremely hard, and put their whole body into it and you open your eyes and look at them with a "Wooooa this is not that serious" face, but they can't see it because their eye's are closed and they're "in" the moment.

Pfft. 'The Moment'.

There is passion, and then there's foolishness. I've been dealing with a lot of the latter lately. Clammy sweaty hands all over your body. Too soft. Too rough. Too there. Awkward. Uncomfortable. GET THE FUCK OFF ME. Fingers.

Don't get me started on the fingers. Trail down to your vagina (I'm going to be as blunt as possible so be warned) And 90% of the time miss the clitoris entirely, especially if they're doing outer underwear action.

Up it from 90% to straight 100%.

Awkwardly rubbing my fucking skin.

Skin, I just shaved.

I try to adjust myself and my body, even move their hands to the right position, but nooooo they 'got it', they're 'experienced'. Some idiots try and move my hands down south to their own little spots, to which they get the "Nigger please" face.

I'm not jacking anybody off, if that is not the definition of tedious and awkward I don't know what the fuck is. God gave you a hand for a reason, I don't see why you have to take mine. If I have to I grip it for a minute to do help with the calculations in my head.

Aside from all the idiocy this is normally where I get a little bit excited. Because in my mind this is where I am supposed to get the sex. But it hardly ever works out that way. 95% of the time foreplay is forced on me when I'm really not feeling it. And I hate having to reciprocate, nigger I did not ASK you to go down on me.

Don't stick your penis in my face and make me feel guilty.

And don't even think about asking for head if you haven't done the deed your damn self. I will (unfortunately) if you will...well that's not entirely true. In some cases, in most no. And speaking of going down, that whole situation as lovely as it feels is incredibly silly. Because a lot of the time, just like with the fingers, they lost it, and are just licking skin. And licking skin...doesn't really feel like anything, but I go along with it, and adjust my hips hoping to alleviate the problem.

When the diver comes up for the air is always once of the most traumatic experiences for me. I don't know why I dislike it so much. Maybe it's the way they look at me afterwards. A lot of them linger. And just stare at me. And try to wipe their mouths off all manly and shit. There is no way to be manly after you just spent 10-20 minutes on your knees, I almost always fight the urge to laugh around this time.

It's always a little bit too much for most.

A fucking waterfall.

 There have been various code names used to refer this. I.e.:

Thundercat, Bricks, Puddle etc. etc.

 So the deep see diver comes up for air to review his spoils. Most of the time they expect me to be out of breath, and rabid with passion and I never fail to act the part, most of the time I'm thinking "For gods sake just fuck me already, bloody hell!"

Then they move in to kiss me. Now a lot of females out there claim to not kiss a dude after he's been -insert whichever phrase you'd like to use to describe the act here- but that's completely ridiculous. Grow the hell up, it's your own fucking body. If you're not comfortable enough with it you shouldn't be having sex at all.

Move in to kiss me, and normally insert some silly little sexy whisper here like;

"God you're so sexy"
"You like that London?"
"Who's your daddy?" (Crack kills)
"You're amazing"
"You're so beautiful"

Yada, yada, yada. If you haven't picked on it already, I don't take sex at all seriously. And I normally just smile and laugh because I hate talking when I'm waiting for the grand finale. I hate talking in general, but I always seem to pick up the fucking yakkers. After the silly little whisper, the business hopefully goes down.

They back up and position themselves, I patiently wait, trying not to get annoyed as they slip and miss. Oops, hope he didn't catch the eye roll.

Oh there it's in.

Depending on the size, my gratification varies. If it's fucking monstrous, I just have to concentrate on it and ignore him entirely. I do that a lot. Ignore him I mean. I'm not interested in what he's doing, or what he's saying. I just need to feel it.

To feel like I'm still human.

Feel that warmth in the my stomach for those five brief seconds when it first goes in. Then the feelings gone, and I open my eyes, and there's this idiot on top of me. Time to put on a show. I squirm, I moan, I grip, I bite. I laugh, I gyrate my hips, I try and excite every single sense available. This is a performance after all, gotta get this done quick, get my grade & be out. Positions switch, and if the dude is man enough, I go on top.

A lot of the time with the newbies, they don't trust me on top. I'm overwhelming them enough as it is and they don't want to test their luck. On top? My best score ever. I like to turn around most of the time, so I'm not facing the victim, it makes things less complicated, and I find much more peaceful for me.

I can do whatever I want without that annoying sense of being watched. I hate sex stalkers. You know, when they stare at you faaaaaaaarrrrrrrrr too much during the act. God I'm not in love with you, quit that shit. On top. I have the most fun. Because I can always try something new. It's like I just got this new toy to play with, who has a thousand buttons and can make a thousands sounds each time you press one.

This is where I learn the most about the person I'm dealing with.

And this is normally where we finish. I like to exploit weaknesses, during sex. Especially when I'm on top...I like...winning. Because I never have an orgasm. I'm pretty sure it's physically impossible for me during sex. Trust me I've had enough of it to know.

So when their Air Force One takes off I feel like my mission has been accomplished and they can get the fuck out.

Reading over this, and thinking about it all over again. I don't even know why I had sex in the first place. I basically equate this bitch to a game of fucking Cluedo. It's a good thing I've quit. I wasn't helping anyone with that sort of behavior.

Especially not the girl friends.