Bitchicisms

Well here I go again, being too busy having actual sex to blog about sex...But one anecdote is just too amusing to ignore.

There's a Jonathan Lethem story called Five Fucks. The main male character told the female character a certain joke while they were flirting in a bar. He said, "You know what's the worst part about being an atheist?" She replies "no". His answer, "No one to talk to when you come."

So I was giving this guy a blow job. He was close to coming. He goes "Oh God."

I feel his balls becoming tighter and his thighs becoming more tense. "Oh God," he says again.

He says he's close to coming. I mumble, "Come."

I take him back in my mouth and as he comes, again he screams, "Oh God!...who does not exist!"

Atheists do talk to God during sex.

One of the things that suck about being a Bender-mocked meatbag is coming up with the really great lines after the moment has passed. This sucks doubly hard if you consider yourself a writer (case in point: me). You can come up with great lines on page, but not live. I always hated that about me. Until I realized that when I started being wittier live, I started being a bit duller on the page. But I still generally have this dilemma.

I was only recently able to say my killer lines in person. One was "Just because you fucked me, you think we're close?" said to Cc. He was sharing some inane thing and saying how he felt close to me. I just had to retaliate.

The other was said to a fucker who still keeps saying thank you (literally) for every fucking orgasm. I told him, "Thanks for coming, please come again." I tried to do it in the Apu-voice like Kumar does in Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle but I couldn't manage it post-sex (My voice was hoarse from all the fucking moaning and groaning).

The last was said recently. Ry is scared of me. He's apparently always been. So I included him in my text roulette. He replies without knowing who I was. When I said it was me, I stopped texting. Then I said, "Little Boy, do I scare you?" His reply seconds later was a roundabout "Nah".

With proper time management/scheduling and pacing, text roulette rocks as a fucking tool. Literally, a tool for fucking.

I've always had a long, weird love-hate relationships with blow jobs. In high school I swore to two things. One was that I would never have a guy pick me up from somewhere just to take me home. It seemed like an awful waste of time unless we have actual plans. The whole thing also reeked of weakness. The other thing I swore was that I would never give blow jobs. I have never broken the first and the second was shattered to itty-bitty pieces my first year in college.

I remember my first blow job, the dude that taught me. He demonstrated by taking my finger in his mouth and slowly sliding it in and out. So for a while that was what I did. Until I learned (pretty immediately, with the next guy after) that it's not the actual having a warm-wet-hole-wrapped-around-a-cock thing that made a good blow job. It was the actual sucking.

I think i intuited it. The next dude I blew didn't tell me exactly to suck. Oh wait, I think he did tell me to suck his cock. So I realized, it's like a freaking straw! You suck on it to get the juice! And yeah, I've been doing that ever since.

Well, I don't always feel like sucking each and every guy. It's a mood thing. Some guys you just don't feel like sucking. Mostly because you feel they're a waste of time. Yes, even when I have sex with someone, I may or may not suck them off.

It perplexed me that some girls do not know about the sucking thing. I'd recently gotten into a conversation with a friend about the term blow job face. It was referring to some girl who had high cheekbones and a perpetual pout. I didn't google the term but I intuited (yep, that's my favorite word right now) that it was referring to her hollowed cheeks. Like she always seemed she was sucking.

The friend I was having the conversation with totally did not get it. She asked "you suck your cheeks in during blow jobs?" I was completely and utterly floored. I stared for a while, lost my composure and gaped. I could not believe I had to explain it. But I did anyway.

See, when you suck on a cock, your cheeks hollow out because you're sucking pretty hard. You aren't sucking your cheeks in, but because you're sucking on something, any excess air pretty much goes out of your mouth, creating a vacuum. All that empty space between your cheeks and your gums/teeth/whatevs is sucked in. And that is how you give a blowjob. You suck on the dick in front of you.

I consulted a guy friend about this. He said some women just don't know how to give blow jobs. I know there are women out there who hate blow jobs. There are those who only do it because they have to. In exchange for cunt lick or shoes. But even if you don't know it, don't you at least theoretically know that you're not just supposed to provide a hole with your mouth? The hole has to be tight. And since you can't tighten your gums too much (because those involve teeth), you compensate by sucking in air, providing suction.

It was a sad, sad day. But seriously, doesn't anyone ever notice that in porn? I thought the Internet pretty much made sure a basic blowjob technique more accessible. I know not all guys like the intense suction, but I'm sure some suction is better than none. That was always the concept of blow jobs for me: suction and tongue. Why do other people not know this?

You know how y'all hate it when people blog about why their not blogging? Well, skip this post then.

But no, seriously.

Isn't it weird how libido/horniness/perviness suddenly disappears in the face of other things? Well, maybe it is just me. I haven't been walking the streets looking for a hot meal. I've been mostly being geeky and just staying out of trouble. It must be some New Year thing.

Been really busy, and I've become weirdly fixated on Pete Wentz. Which is totally weird. I thought I already swore off guys that wear guyliner... And man, I am attracted to attention-whore douchebags in bands. Jeebus, it sucks when you become totally and suddenly self-aware.

If I send you a message past 2AM, its probably cos I was drunk. Several moronic things have been brought about in this way. The final surrender to H. The angry messages sent to H. The angry messages sent to Xn. The stupid messages sent to V. The stupid messages sent to Speedfucker. In fact almost all the most stupid messages in the world are sent in the period between 2AM to 5AM.

They are also the most sincere. Now if they were just coherent and well crafted enough to be believable and not disregarded.

Fucking friends is something I sort of like doing. By fucking friends, I don't mean friends who I fuck or people I have sexual relations with. By fucking friends, I mean I fuck guys who happen to be friends. And yeah, I kind of get off on it.

This has happened twice recently. Once with the Den boys and the other with the Little Boys. I fucked 3 out of the 4 main boys of Den. With the Little Boys, evil Bv claims the break up of the friendship was my fault. I mean, I did fuck Ry first, then made a point of groping him as much as I could. Then I tried Cc, the younger one and he enjoyed groping me as often as he could. This apparently caused a rift in the friendship. Though I'm not sure if it was because of me sleeping with Cc or Cc flaunting it or both of them being afraid because they knew each other's girlfriends.

With the boys of Den, the choice was particularly easy and unecessary. In the beginning, I was fooling around with O, then he introduced me to his friend H, then his friend V. In that scenario I didn't really have to choose. O was in a relationship. V fucked me one last time after seeing me on a date with H then he got into a relationship. About a month after I stopped dating him, H went back to his ex.

O always maintained that he didn't want to actually all-the-way sleep with me because I might end up with one of his friends, and he'd have to go away because of it. We never really stopped fooling around though, but things did get a bit distant when I was seeing H. I guess cos he saw how into H I was.

I had thought the amusing chatter we have might eventually turn into a fuck frenzy. Repressed emotions and all that. He did consistently bug me for a hook up, but it all ended pretty abruptly. The funny amusing late night chats ended. The answer came way later. He'd figured out I was seeing H again. Sucks.

Ever have one of those mornings? When you just wake up and realize your nipples are perky and you would want nothing more than to have someone fuck you? Well yes this is one of those mornings.

It's weird when these days happen. They don't particularly happen often. It doesn't matter when I last had sex or what I wanted. There isn't actually anything that could trigger this. My libido had been dormant for a while, due to other things I had to do. Responsibilities and such.

But then I wake up, all tingly, feeling all frisky.

Like today.

It was one of those little event things, often caused by someone's birthday party. Those places were alcohol is free and you're suddenly super thirsty. One of those times when you don't know a lot of people and tend to cling to the ones you do know. Particularly when you don't feel like speaking to the rest of the group. In this case, it's also a party where a pool is easily available and drinks and cigarettes are allowed poolside.

So lying there being slightly conscious in a swimsuit and still reveling in the feeling of being submerged in water. Then this guy arrives. Speedfucker. We've been hanging out mostly due to the groups and places we go to. He's seen me hooking up with two other men while he was there. He has persistently asked if I wanted to get together again. He has repeatedly expressed a desire to fuck again. And I have responded with silence and a smile.

Oh I enjoy hanging out with him once in a while. It always makes me hot being around someone who wants to fuck me, even if I want nothing to do with them. Makes me feel sexy. But I really don't want to fuck him again, even if I get really really horny.

Then he spoke:

Speedfucker (Sf): J, no matter what, I have no regrets about what happened between us."

J: Damn right you shouldn't. I have a rep.

Sf: Yes you do.

And yes. I do. Satisfaction guaranteed. Too bad he doesn't have that same guarantee.

My friends and I used to play The Ideal Game. This game involves a whole lot of imagination and a culmination of daydreaming and fantasies. The realistic ones of course. I've never told anyone during an Ideal Game that my ideal me 5 years down the road would be 2 inches taller and European.

One thing that stuck to my head recently was my consistent answer to the Ideal Day 5 Years from Now If I Were In A Relationship. It had to be clearly delineated that my answer was for a day with an S.O. Since, ordinarily, an S.O. wasn't really part of my ideal.

And it freaked me out when I played the game recently. The last time I had played it I was 22 years old. Now I was turning 25. And still. Nowhere near ideal.

My ideal day was always clearly delineated in my mind. Living with my partner in some crowded city on top of some tower with my own pool. Yes this means I want a penthouse. With a big furry dog (golden retriever. By then I reckon I'd be sick and tired of small toy dogs. ). Waking up together. Having sex. Having breakfast. Going for a swim and walking the dog as he leaves for work. Writing at home. Submitting articles and sending revisions off to my publisher. Him coming back. Having dinner and Jack and cokes (future me still can't imagine liking wine). Going to a friends art exhibit. Talking with interesting people. Having intelligent conversations. Being mostly adored by the our smart, witty trendy friends whom we adore back. Going back home to have sex. Waking up the next day and doing it all over again.

Is it so difficult to find a hard working, attractive, attentive creative man? Of course the category includes someone who is attracted to a semi-neurotic, moody, bratty, bitchy, sexually addicted and nicotine famished woman.

Well... that's why it's called an ideal.

I've recently had a whole lot of time on my hands, basically because I've been a bum for the past couple of weeks. All this excess time has been used towards obsessive compulsive hard drive cleaning and drinking sessions. However, some of this time has been used towards...well..thinking. Thinking insane and semi-profound thoughts.

One of the things I've realized during a random bullshit session with friends is the difference between jerks an assholes.

The thought came to me as I was describing the difference between O and Bv. O and Bv both have particularly strong personalities. They both tease, they both spar verbally and they are both my friends, with the express difference of my sexual relationship with O.

Both have also expressed chauvinistic ideas and beliefs that make me want to hit them. The main difference is that Bv is an asshole and O is a jerk. Bv may spew shit but he knows its all shit. O actually believes the shit he spews. Which is why Bv is an asshole and O is a jerk.

So there is that very very fine line between being a jerk and being an asshole. Assholes are mostly funny but they turn into jerks once they start believing that their thoughts are right, that all their beliefs and prejudices are right.

Bv crosses that fine line sometimes. But so far he hasn't become a 100% jerk. So far.

It was a night when I wanted to take a rest from hanging out with the boys of Bv's crowd (my new harem after I let go of the consistent harem from Den). I dunno if it was the constant PSP-ing or the asinine conversations or the constant hot and cold groping/ignoring thing going on (mostly the groping coming from one boy and the ignoring coming from the other one i slept with). I just wanted to get away from that whole crowd.

So one Friday I went out with Mc to my pet Club after I left the penumbra of Den. Club is actually a club in the Fort Strip with a cover charge that isn't as expensive as some of its neighbors.

The night started out slow. We made fun of what some people were wearing and proceeded to get drunk. Then it got interesting.

I had been noticing a couple of guys who were standing near us. The group of guys to our right were standard issue guys-who-don't-normally-go-out. They were wearing blah clothes and were searching the crowd like hawks looking for prey. They had probably heard the stories of people hooking up in Bar and heard that girls there can pretty much be coerced into doing anything.

The group to our left were a couple of kids who obviously liked to dance and fancied they were black because they liked hiphop.

It seemed like a tame enough night. I wasn't hungry for any hook ups, since I had my period. I just wanted to fucking dance my ass off. It also seemed like an off night for Club since the music sucked for a long time.

However, boys were ever present. Sure the kids found me amusing. Maybe it was the fact my tattoo was showing. Maybe it was the school girl style red pleated skirt I was wearing. However, here are some of the conversational gems from that night:

"Nice tattoo." he wasn't cute so I just smiled said "thanks" and turned away

"I thought you were from Assumption." duh, Assumption uniforms are not red plaid pleated skirts

"Girlfriend right? I'm cool with that." he thought Mc and I were lesbian lovers sigh men and their stupid fantasies

And of course, the most amusing exchange of all:

"Where do you live?"

"Q.C."

"Wanna go home with me?"

"I brought my car."

"Wanna take me home?"

"I have another party to go to."

"Where are you parked?"

JG points to the parking lot.

"Wanna show me?"

"No."

Ok. I felt kinda bad for this dude. But I have to admit it felt nice to dance with a dude and feel his hard cock against your ass. I did kiss him. I let him feel me up. His hand was already snaking inside my underpants but I had to moderate him because I didn't want him to hit the mother load. I also didn't want him to know I had my period.

Anyway he seemed to enjoy it. He got a free grope. He almost got to lift my skirt up high enough to flash everyone. He got to feel my tits. He got to look like a big shot in front of his friends.

But when time came, I wanted to go home. I went to the rest room with Mc for a slight pow wow. I told her I just wanted to say goodbye to that dude. And of course, his cute friends. But when we went back to the spot I didn't see him so we went home.

It was fun. I kinda missed dancing with a hard cock against my ass.

The things I'm sure of about men are...

1. They're really petty.
2. They're pretty competitive.
3. They like to own things.

Boys, especially the ones I've been dealing with recently, tend to be particularly juvenile in their thinking. They often think that if they sleep with a woman, they own that woman.

Ry seems to have become aware early on that I slept with a friend of his. And, while I don't begrudge Cc for telling Ry about what happened, I guess it would've been better if he told me that he confessed. Ry and Cc are close, they're good friends and I know Cc only wanted to be a good friend by admitting that he slept with the girl that most boys think is Ry's bitch. When the fact of the matter is, I am no one's bitch.

It made sense that Ry knew because Cc had been mighty brave with all the blatant flirting in front of him. And Ry didn't seem to mind.

What amused me was that the last time I slept with Ry he spewed his come all over me. It was a quickie, and we were still clothed, I had my top on and only took off my shorts and underwear, Ry only pushed down his pants and underwear. And when he came he took the liberty of squirting jizz on my top.

Having had my fair share of men, I know when they want to make a point, when they want to claim. And aside from Ry cumming all over me like a dog marking his territory with piss, he's made some vague verbal statements as well.

Ry believes he owns me, that I will always be nice to him, and always be good to him, and always sleep with him just because I've slept with him a couple of times. I guess I'll leave his rude awakening in its own time. I won't rush it.

One of the reasons I like hanging out with guys is because I learn things other girls don't normally learn. Like this tidbit I picked up recently from the evil Bv.

We were hanging out and drinking with a bunch of boys when one of the kids said that he was so loyal to his girlfriend that he can't even get his dick up when he has the opportunity to sleep with another girl.

That was when the evil Bv, the malevolent ring master of this little testosterone-filled boy overrun world I live in right now, pulled his chair closer to the confiding boy and imparted some of the most annoying (yet apparently effective) missives regarding cheating.

First, the evil Bv said (in a very low voice as we all knew he was scared as hell of being figured out by his ghost girlfriend) that there was a difference between being loyal and being faithful. A loyal man strays, but always comes back, like a dog. For him, it's just going around and sampling all the other offers but always returning to home. And yes, exactly like a dog.

However, being faithful on the other hand, means never cheating, never straying and never having any extra curricular relationships or activities.

Then, Bv imparted the wittle boy and the rest of the enthralled audience (including the amusing morsel I had by my side who has a girlfriend after all), with how to overcome the erectile dysfunction syndrome of first time cheaters.

There would always be that guilt involved when you do it the first time (or so Bv explains) which will cause the penis to resist the final act. So to overcome that, the mastermind Bv recommends....a blow job.

He even goes so far as to advise wittle boy to pleasure the girl first, kiss her and go down on her and make her come, then gently position her mouth on his cock to ask for a blow job so he can get hard and screw.

Wittle boy responded by saying that even his tongue seems to lose its adroitness when in that situation as he can't even French kiss properly.

To this Bv gives more sage advice, " Don't try. Don't even use you tongue. Go for the neck then the tits then kiss her there. Then that's when you go down on her and after she comes you maneuver her like this." Yes Bv goes so far as to demonstrate how to hold the girl until she's ready to give a blow job.

Bv is a very dear friend. And the only thing keeping me from dismissing this entire thing as anti-female hogwash was my drunkenness and the thought that girls can use this too. But seriously, if you really wanted to cheat then maybe your body parts would cooperate?

I gave a thought to serious cheaters and they didn't seem to have any problems, and I can totally respect and relate to wittle boy and his uncooperative penis. One thing that I forgot to ask was if wittle boy even liked the girl who he could've fucked if his penis had only cooperated.

Hanging out with so many young boys you start picking up things. Like style and vocabulary and insight. And you get to see them in action. Which is always interesting and mildly funny.

Step 1: The offhand casual compliment.

Something along the lines of a simple and sudden "you look cute today."

Step 2: Wanting to hang out.

"You're such a kill joy, don't go home yet."

Step 3: The touching game.

Try to touch the girl as much as you can with the most innocent excuse you can manage.

Step 4: Reeling in the bait.

Start touching the girl in a seemingly innocent place in a not so innocent way.

Step 5: The blatant feel.

Linger near her and grab her close so you can smell her hair.

Step 6: Uncertainty.

Look into her eyes then look at her lips. Repeat until either tired or girl gives in.

Step 7: FATALITY

Boys are funny.

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