Bitchicisms

One of the things I really don't like doing is making out in a car. I can't stretch out. I can't move without bumping into something. Unless its an SUV, a small car really can't contain the wide array of actions and emotions I like displaying during sex. Also, I'm loud, so I tend to get caught.

It is almost the one seemingly normal sex-related cliche I won't do. Except I have, literally, never full-on made-out in a movie house. And no, I don't want to either. (One weiner dude always likes to say that I don't like doing something because I never had anyone to do it with. Yes, he is the type who likes to imagine my life began when I met him. And yes, he is an asshole.)

I receive a random message from someone. He wants to drop by and see me since we weren't able to meet up for coffee earlier. He was going to the area so he just wanted to chat. I agreed. I figured he was in a hurry so I didn't change. I was in a plain shirt and short shorts.

He arrived and we chatted amiably for a bit. It all seemed like the random friendly thing to do. Until he started harassing me.

I've been on this whole frame of mind recently where I like to platonic the shit out of everyone, particularly the guys I have things with. Mostly it also has to do with the success of that one endeavor in the nice girl realm.

He appeared perplexed that I was resisting. Asked if I was seeing anyone seriously. Asked if I was focusing on work. I said no both times. Then he put his hands in my shorts and started masturbating me.

As usual, I couldn't moan too loud. Or else we could get caught. We were parked basically a couple of blocks from my house. It would have been a horribly unfortunate thing to have gotten caught.

I covered my own mouth and writhed on the seat. He wouldn't stop so I just let him. After I came, I gave him a blowjob. I'd only sucked on his cock for about 1 minute when he stopped me. I was "what?" And he was all "I think I'm gonna come already."

I raised an eyebrow. He pushed me back down. He came after another 30 seconds. Yes, it was that fast. Later he said how unfair it was that it took me so long to finish and it took him so fast. I didn't remind him that he still had a hard cock in his pants after his orgasm.

He joked, "I have a condom." I smiled. "And?"

But, being in a rush, he took me home. I told him as I exited the car, "next time, if you have rubber, let's use it." Walked to my house, a little conscious that my shorts were moist and my hair was tousled.

My name is Jean Grey, and I am a moaner. I am loud. I know. Hentai-sounds are issued. I have been asked to keep quiet during quickie-some-other-person's-house-sex. I have had my mouth covered. I have had cloth stuffed to my mouth. Kinky sex shit I know. But yes, when fucking in other people's jurisdictions, one must keep quiet.

But I heard something during some semi-rough quickie sex that I've never heard before. "Shut up," he said. The sex was rough, bordering-on-rape sex. Yes. The kind I like. He was on top of me, groaning and moaning about how wet and tight I was. I was giving off the fluttering high-pitched Japanese-y anime/hentai/ecchi sounds. It felt good, I couldn't help it. He was thrusting really hard. Giving it to me really bad. And all those bad-erotica cliches (pumping/pistoning etc...). I think he got off on being all butch cos I was acting really femme. He did promise to fucking rape me. He was just trying to live up to it.

He said "shut up" on the withdraw. Then he thrust back as I was looking at him with shocked wide eyes. I had to cover my mouth with my own hand. I had to keep biting my lips to keep from dying when I couldn't moan.

It took me longer than usual to come of course. And, admittedly, it wasn't as good as when I could moan/scream my brains out.

Note to self: must stop fucking at other people's houses. Rented rooms are best.

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?

I've been moaning and groaning about all the blah blahs of the men/fucktoys in my life for most of last year. In fact, this blog was mostly started so I could moan and groan about them in secret. I just up and decided to end it all. Commit playlist suicide. By killing them not in memory, but in the present.

Yep, I no longer go to those places. I'm generally avoiding 3 drinking nightspots. I am also mainly avoiding hanging out with 1 person. But that's mostly because I realized he is kind of an asshole.

I just want to be left alone. All the contacts/options in those locales/circles are either exhausted or tainted. In fact, I'm not even that horny right now. Maybe if I see The Jackhammer again I'll get horny. Maybe if I find someone attractive. Now I'm pretty ok with my fingers, working out my plans and going on hiatus. Damn, whenever I say the word hiatus, 10 dicks suddenly start lining up for my mouth. Well, we'll see. Play DDR in TriNoMa, maybe I'll find you (I like to watch).

So yeah, I heard from a guy in a bar. The guy who said it was actually someone I was sleeping with. And yes, I have gotten texts from him before 10PM but that really didn't mean anything. Except that he was impatient and couldn't wait.

Is this true? I do have some people I send SMS (SMS-es?plural form anyone?) to after 10PM. Mostly, because I get bored with whoever I'm drinking with at the moment and I wanna bounce to someplace else (I am also trying to curb this, I think it's a horrible habit to get into).

And, in hindsight, most of the people I messaged were actual potential fucks. Some were old (literally) standbys, others were new untested dudes. Most of the messages were random "hey"s "you out?"s and "what cha doin?"s. The underlying meaning being "hey, maybe we can have sex?" There's a maybe there cos sometimes when I do really wanna have sex, I often just say "you wanna hook up". Most of the time I just say "Fuck me?"

Is that a fast and tested-rule though? Cos I have set up booty calls prior to 10PM. And I have had booty calls scheduled in the afternoon (they were exempt from being sex dates cos there was no requisite date part of movie/dinner/coffee).

I recently received an SMS from this one dude I made the mistake of sleeping with once. He keeps asking me where I am and what I'm doing at around 11 PM on a weekend. Come on! I'm either purposely at home or out having fun. If you wanna fuck just say so. Jeez, you're the one with the dangling balls. Be as obvious as them and ask. I'd probably still say no though.

For the longest time, I've kept my hair short. It was just always easier. I didn't have to make up a fuss. It was easy to wash. And it kept me cool in this tropic country I live in.

I was determined to grow it. And then a sudden decision to cut it short after an annoying encounter with a man. Now, having been fortunately (or unfortunately) shielded from any man-ache for some time, my hair is the longest it's ever been. And I missed it so.

I forgot how sexy it felt to have hair brushing against my shoulders or my back. How good it felt to run my hands through it. How amazing it was to be fucked from behind while someone pulled it.

Of course I'm told my hair looks nice. Longer hair makes me look softer. It makes me look more sensual. And of course men love looking at it, smelling it and touching it.

I want to grow it long. Long enough so I could pull it back in a long braid that came down my back. I can't wait to have someone wrap my hair around his fist as he fucks me. I miss that.

I just realized recently that I had no idea how women I knew fucked. I knew how most of my guy friends fucked, mostly as a result of several hours of detailed clinical conversation. 

I liked getting sex tips and advice. I like hearing about clear adult objective discussions of sexual congress. Sometimes it repulses me when the person doing the discussing is a friend i somehow find physically disgusting, but it is a part of growth. I do know that to be good at something, anything, one has to practice and study. Those are always the two parts: studyto learn from others and practice to learn from yourself.

Given that  I know how my guy friends kiss, fuck, lick, suck, touch and the things they like to do... mostly because we've all discussed it. Some girlfriends I know their M.O. But some of my nice girl friends? I wonder how they do it...

I mean, of course I don't like thinking of my girl friends "in that way" whatever way that implies. But sometimes I have to wonder...

How do they know they're doing things right if they don't compare? Have they ever seen porn? Do they have any idea what they're doing? Have they ever tried learning anything? Do they engage in ass play? How do they look when they come?

Most of the visual images these questions trigger are kinda gross. Partly because 
I don't find the girls in question attractive, partly because I know their gross-looking boyfriends. But it does make me wonder...

I've been told I generally don't fuck like most women, I just want to know the difference other than I am very very horny. 

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.

Horribly narcissistic and vain song that I can somehow relate to...

I take it in stride; One day at a time
If I ask no questions I’ll hear no lies
How come blessings only come in disguise?
Try them on for size as I vocalize
Ain’t nothing gonna get in between me and my flow
Aint’ nothing gonna come between me and my afro
My man just left me; what do ya know?
Easy come; easy go!

He came out of the blue
And went right back into it
Had to forfeit because he couldn’t get with it
Called it quits and when he spins
He said he didn’t have time for my juvenile bullshit

I've had a lot of failed relationships; I don’t get involved because I’m not equipped
I believe that the world should revolve around me!
I don’t see the point of a partnership; it won’t be long until they start to trip
Yessiree, the whole world should revolve around me!

There’s only one me in the galaxy
I am an endangered species
This kind of flower don’t grow on Earth
Just lettin’ you know for what it’s worth

This kind of mountain shouldn't cause a depression
So I bide my time with philosophical questions
Not for nothing but what came first
The chicken nugget or the egg mcmuffin?

I got talent and I got tits
I know I’ll find another guy who wants to get with it
I’m not convinced that I’m a big fat bore
One man’s pleasure is another man’s chore

I've had a lot of failed relationships; I don’t get involved because I’m not equipped
I believe that the world should revolve around me!
I don’t see the point of a partnership; it won’t be long until they start to trip
Yessiree, the whole world should revolve around me!


I know I rock and what I got is hot
And you know I got a lot
Cause all that trippin you gotta stop
Before you know it your ass’ll be drop

And if you concerned with my biological clock
Since I never grow old my heart is always in stock
Keep screwing that bitch from down the block
I don’t need you around I know I rock!

I've had a lot of failed relationships; I don’t get involved because I’m not equipped
I believe that the world should revolve around me!
I don’t see the point of a partnership; it won’t be long until they start to trip
Yessiree, the whole world should revolve around me!

I've had a lot of failed relationships; I don’t get involved because I’m not equipped
I believe that the world should revolve around me!
I don’t see the point of a partnership; it won’t be long until they start to trip
Yessiree, the whole world should revolve around me!

It is cunning. Hiding behind masks. Showing less of my colors. And playing. I miss the playing most of all. The sex is easy as always. Offers come and are turned down. The real goal is to play. None of the recent items on the playlist will provide that.

Dangerous Liaisons made me realize this. The joy of cunning and deceit and cruelty. To be truly evil I must cut out my heart. And remove that which weakens me. Play with the intention of winning.

How to properly use your hands on me:

1. Begin by grabbing me roughly to you. Pull me close. Grab my hair. Grip me hard.
2. Spank my ass. Not little taps, but the ones that actually almost hurt. As hard as you can. Leave a red mark.
3. Take off all my clothes. Don't rip anything unless I tell you before hand you can rip them off. A lover once slapped my hands away when I started to unhook my bra on my own. He wanted to do it himself. Another kneeled in front of me as he pulled off my pants. Then he wrapped his arms around my legs and pressed his face against my lace-covered crotch.
4. Pull me to you. Roam your hands all over my body. Softly and gently. Caress all my curves.
   
5. Massage my breasts. Slowly and firmly. Press them against my body, press them together. Feel their weight in your hands.
   
6. Pay special attention to my nipples. Roll them softly and firmly between your fingers. You can use your tongue to lick them and your mouth to suck them too.
7. Spank me again. Harder.
8. Put your hands on my pussy. Find that fuck hole. Use one finger, then use two. Cross those two fingers together and curl them upward. Thrust slowly as you feel me creaming.
9. Grab my hips and place my in position. Guide your cock into my pussy
10. Spank me, grab me and pull my hair as you fuck me. You can bite me too.
11. Repeat steps 4 -7 until I come.
    

Now here's what I want you to do. Just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it.

I was watching some TV show about women's bodies when I realized it. One of the most enlightening things I've ever discovered about myself.

I was fine with my body. In fact I didn't really pay any attention to it until I was in high school. It was just my shell, what I had. What I used to move around. I barely paid any attention to it. Until my classmates started noticing it.

They said I started growing tits faster than them. Even the boys from my co-ed elementary school didn't bother me much about it. I didn't even care if they snuck a peak at me once while I was changing. My all-girls high school classmates gave me a much harder time. My ass didn't really get enough attention until I reached high school.

I later realized that women are the first to judge when it comes to a woman's body. I've had other women delight that I'd gained weight. I've had other women delight that I had a fat ass. I've had other women judge me more than men did. Most of the time, men are just really grateful to have a woman around.

Come to think of it, women are the ones who enjoy judging. Particularly those who used to play. They like doing it most of all. Women really are more cruel than men. Men are generally more forgiving. As long as you don't insult their pride or their manhood, they'll generally leave you alone.

I was actually thinner before women started pointing out the flaws of my body. I also felt better about myself before I started listening to them. I'm guilty of it myself. I'm a self-confessed lookist. I really don't like unattractive or boring people. But then again, they may only be unattractive or boring to me.

Women, sometimes I judge them too. But mostly I just stay away from those that generally annoy me.

I now realize, who the fuck cares what all these assholes and bitches think? All this worry about the criticisms and the judging looks. Be free of them all. That is the ultimate freedom.

I recently told some dude trying to figure out how to dump a girl in the nicest way possible that he can always get out of it and be excused (in the long run) by using the emotions excuse. The explanation I gave him was that women responded to emotions, not logic.

Now, did I believe this? Yes. I am a woman after all. So I kinda know how these things work. Of course it is bad to generalize, but I do totally believe what I'm saying and it makes sense.

Women right now are told that they can do anything they set their minds too. And that is generally true. It came about from the women's liberation in the 80's. Now the field is supposed to be level. Everyone is equal. If you want it bad enough and work hard for it, you can get it.

The problem is that women tend to apply the same instinct when it comes to men. Not all women though, but in general. The things taught to us, that if we work hard enough, anything will work, doesn't apply to relationships or to men. Because men aren't really goals. They are, at best, thinking human beings with minds of their own. At worst, they're really just like dogs whose greatest achievement is not peeing on the rug (or not getting caught peeing on the rug).

The thing is, we have great instincts. I've noticed that. I think life would be much easier for me if I always follow my initial gut feeling about anything. It often is true. Around 80% of the time. This especially holds true for men. Ever felt that something was wrong? That things weren't right? That maybe you should just give up? That it really is a bad idea? Hell I always respond to these thoughts with the perpetual: But it could be really fun and turn into a cool fucking story.

Now, I've noticed that with most women, the problem is that war between the instincts and the logic. Most women know if the men they are with are dogs but they want to believe that they are not. Even when most obvious signs point to 'yes, this is fucked up', some, maybe even most, will still trudge along and try. Because trying is the best they can do. And we're taught that anything will work if you try hard enough.

A lot of the times the push-pull of emotions vs. logic overwhelm us so much. This often results in the mood swings, the flakiness, the uncertainty, the whole girly thing of 'convince me and I will do it'.

So why did I tell that guy to play the emotion card when dumping? Because women understand that pull of emotions. No matter what logical explanation you say to a woman, the pull of an emotional explanation is stronger. We know what it's like to feel something really deeply and be swayed by it despite all rational facts to the contrary.

I told the guy: If you dump her, she will hate you right now. There is no way to do that without pain. But for the least amount of pain, tell her things just happened. Speak in large ambiguous terms. Refer to destiny or the stars or how you feel. Spin it nicely. Somewhere down the line she will remember you as that guy who was just not meant to be, not that fucker who started fucking someone else.

Why am I not horny?!?!? I haven't had sex in several several weeks and the urge is not there. Is this growing up? Is this focusing on work? That has never stopped me before. Has someone been slipping me sexual inhibitors in my water?! Have I been neutered/lobotomized in my sleep? Is this the effect of prolonged exposure to my laptop?!?!

What's wrong with me!?!?

In the midst of this weird fluctuating weight issue due to an insane work schedule I am suddenly craving meat. And yes, my mother thought it best to indulge me by buying me my favorite meat in a bun meal: JolliHotdog. Yes I'm one of those who grew up on Jollibee fast food.

Now I'm a bit concerned as I really don't have much time to do any sort of physical activity. I am still trying to work out my schedule and routine for this whole business. And yep I get one of those days when I begin to doubt every flattering thing that has been ever said about me.

I realize that I need to first accept and love who I am before I can change. And I come up with this mantra:

I am a hot, beautiful, smart, fuckable woman.
Anybody would be lucky to get into my pants.
Everyone wants to fuck me.
I am hot.
And fuckable.
There is nothing I can't do.
There is no one I can't do.
I am extremely fuckable.

And I vow to learn this to live it to love it. Because confidence works. And attitude works. And everything else will follow.

And yes, because I am totally fuckable.

I've never been good at turning it off. O was a master at that. One minute I could be sucking his cock in the rest room, the next he could be coolly working in his desk without a thought about the fact I was blowing him moments before.

MMG (My Moral Guardian) told me recently (upon prompting) that to him sex didn't matter, it wasn't important, which is why he was able to remain celibate and chaste for long periods of time. He didn't go looking for it. I told him, "what if you don't go looking for it? But the opportunity always presents itself?" He responded that I still wanted sex. And this lead to a whole other conversation where I admitted to loving sex and seeking his affirmation that this didn't make me an evil nymphomaniac. MMG relented that it didn't make me pure evil that I should just take responsibility for my actions and not run whining to them if something bad happens to me because of my adventures. And, well, I never really have.

Getting turned on easily has always been a trait of mine. Even as a younger person, I would be reading some silly book and I'd get turned on (incidentally, the story of how I first learned to masturbate at around 12). The only problem is turning it off. When you're unbelievably horny and release is nowhere near, what the fuck do you do?

Well, I save it til it counts. Then when I do have sex there's just this insane energy that gets tapped into. But it always took me some time before I could quench the heat flowing through my veins. Worth it though. The prolonged and delayed release. The eventual orgasm. Priceless.

I miss my stupid weekends. I miss my other stupid old friends. I miss the laid-back non-sexual pass times I had. I miss the non-complicated life I once had before TEL (The Evil Lives) was born. sure I wasn't getting laid then. Of course I stayed in more and only went out to meet up the boys I hung out with and I was always stressed from the job I had. But it was phenomenally less complicated.

I guess we always want what we can't have. Now that the whole fucking thing has been turned on, it's on. Old playing instincts are back and I got used to having numbers to call when the urge came. I got back into the mode of flirting. I got back the hunter instinct. Then I lost it again then I got it again then I just got really really horny all the time.

And I still miss my stupid weekends.

People like spouting the word karma. I guess because it's such a convenient reason to give when you're being asked why you're not doing something which feels great but is potentially evil. The word's been used several times by people who are seeking a sort of schadenfreude (happiness at the misery of others) in exchange for the hurt a specific person has caused them.

It's now come to light that a person orbiting the periphery of The Evil Lives (JG and Bv) has been dealt with some mighty smiting karma. And yes schadenfreude can be heard in the clickity-clack of my keyboard.

This stone in orbit fancies itself as a bright gleaming star shot across the heavens on some mythological arrow of hotness. I guess it didn't get the memo shooting stars are just rocks falling down really really fast.

Stone has made things strained between everyone for some time now. It was the one who decided friendships should be terminated because it felt uncomfortable. It also made the decision that one-half of TEL (The Evil Lives) is an evil twat and that the other is basically an interloper who must not be trusted. This despite the fact that TEL has done their best to be as nice to her as possible. Oh, and where does all this TEL hate stem from? A boy. A little twerp of a boy.

Twerp has what we unanimously yet ambiguously define as a Loser Vibe. Yep, he reeks of Loser scent. Which basically smells like Axe, midnight tears, dried semen (from masturbation) and stale ciggies. Stone is totally into Twerp, and it has stated it's belief that Twerp is totally into her too.

Now, it has come to light that Twerp is actually into and fucking someone else. And this TEL knows but will never (tee-hee) come right out and tell Stone. We find it funny because Stone made things strained with TEL despite our efforts to reach out. And Stone is overly protective of Twerp at TEL's expense. I guess in time she'll find out for herself. If the Twerp ever gets around to telling her that she's been dumped.

I feel bad for her, sort of. But man, chick before dick baby. Never let it be the other way around.

I've never felt like the hot girl. I always felt I just got laid because I was a) lucky, b) willing and c) quite good at it. I've mentioned several times that I never felt comfortable making the first move and that meeting men in bars and clubs was never my forte.

I was asking a friend recently about this and he almost laughed when I told him I was shy. I had asked him for tips for playing, something I never really got into. I'm not like some other men I know who enjoy actual mind-fucks and getting-to-know-you games I'd really rather just get down to sex if that was all I really wanted. The guy I asked was the definite man. One of the great Chick Whisperers of this generation.

Anyway, after he simmered down and realized I was serious when I said I was bashful about talking to a man, he started consoling me. He said that I had Den men lined up at one time and they all wanted to fuck me. I told him I never really thought that was a big fucking deal. Because come on, they hang out at Den! One of the most notoriously comforting meat markets ever. It was such a meat market that friends I brought there never got comfortable because they always thought everyone there wanted to fuck someone. And yeah my going there to meet up with hook-ups may not have helped the reputation of the place as a laid back bar.

Then my friend the Great White Hype told me I was hot. And there were women that most Den men, including him, didn't even bother talking to.

But how do I measure fuckability? Sure it's a little evil and backward to measure self-worth by how much attention you get from other people, but come on. I like being told I'm attractive and fuckable and hot. Sometimes it seems that I learn to love my body more from the attention I get from men. It's so politically incorrect but I can't help it. I like being appreciated. And I appreciate them back. Most of the time with my mouth.

So how do we measure fuckability? Is it a matter of how many people you have to turn down becuase of your standards? Cos that would mean there are some men (or at least one) hotter than me. Is it a matter of how many people you get to fuck? Is it how many people want to fuck you? Is it simply a state of mind?

I've been told alternately that I look like a girl who enjoys sex, a nice girl, the ultimate girl next door and a girl with intriguing lips (they're kinda pouty). So does it matter why I'm fuckable? as long as I am? Is being fuckable equated with being hot? Well yeah I think fuckable = hot given that the ones who want to fuck you are equally hot. So is that what I think fuckable is? A measure of how many other hot people want to fuck you?

Wait, does this even matter? Let's just fuck!

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