Bitchicisms

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.

I recently stumbled upon Durex's Sexual Wellbeing Global Survey (which has zero data on the Philippines amongst others). The findings is about the average number of sex partners people all over the world have had.

It worried me a bit when I realized that I have had more than 4 times the average number for heterosexual women. Then again I realized that most of the men I know here are above average in that aspect as well. I know of men who stopped counting (but didn't stop fucking) at 100. So yeah, they definitely should have added the Philippines.

What the hell is up with these surgeries? There are reports that designer vaginas are becoming all the rage in Australia and New Zealand. I know men were supposed to get penile impants because they were insecure about size. Now women are having their vaginas restructured, mimicking virginity and having the entire thing rejuvinated and restored.

Is it vanity? Are we now going to join our vaginas in beauty contests? Are we going to post pictures of our genitals on social networks so we can get dates? Is that the primary thing partners now ask? Not "what you do", "where you're from" but "is your vulva perfectly symmetrical"?

Age old adage: Size does matter. And yes, I agree it does. I am partial to a particularly well-hung lover because, honestly, he's fucking huge. That and he knows what to do with it. There's just something about an experienced, pulsing, big hunk of meat that turns me on. It hits just the right spot. I also like the way his penis looks.

I may not be in the league of Cynthia Plastercaster, but I do like nice looking cocks. I've had a couple of notable mentions.

When I was younger, I was a little afraid of looking at dicks. It was a little scary, particularly with one night stands and one-time lovers. I always thought the unimportant fucks probably didn't have dicks worth looking at. The boyfriends I had were exceptions. Then I met some really good lovers. Then I couldn't stop looking at their cocks.

Sometimes while they slept I'd just run my hand over it absentmindedly. If it suddenly pulsed or jumped in my hand I always smiled. I think this cock fetish started a little later, when I started getting more experience and I had more time to look at it, observe it and see it, in its natural habitat. Like seeing an animal at rest.

The first notable penis I ever saw was from my ex N. It wasn't a real relationship. He was gym instructor and indulged my smoking after working out (which is very very bad). He also started fucking me about a month before I turned 18. He had one of the prettiest penises I have ever seen. Right size for someone barely divirginized (he was my third time, I consider the first 2 my divirginizations). He was around 6-5 inches long, but thick. The most exciting part was that he had a perfect mushroom-shaped head. I remembered doodling the shape of his penis in class.

After N, I have met about 3 or 4 pretty penises. These are penises that have that helmet head and the thick shaft. I didn't like cocks that were too round, I liked shafts with a bit of an elliptical circumference. I wanted them a little flat and wide. They're be perfect to suck on, fits in my mouth perfectly.

I'm not a fan of torpedo dicks. Those guys with the heads a little small and shaft a little thicker. A perfectly circular circumference. Those things are nice, still penises, but I don't adore them. Cocks that are too veiny, too hairy, hidden in tons of hair...those basically suck. And not as fun to suck on.

Notable cocks? Pretty ones? H, N, X, V, Ak, O. It doesn't mean they're particularly good in bed (although I don't think it's a coincidence that some of my favorite lovers make the list), it just means their penises have the shape I like. Mushroom head, thick wide shaft. Perfect.

Sometimes all we really need is a good fucking wank. I mean masturbating. It's part of the ritual. The sex first. The part which is amazing. Then the reminiscing about it. And then the masturbating over it. The other part which is equally as amazing.

It's not that the sex isn't enough, or that I can't get laid. Right now, off the top of my head, there are about 6 numbers I can call to set a sex date, some of them may even run to meet me at this late hour. I just love to masturbate.

There's just something intensely personal about it. I have masturbated in front of other people though. While that's an immensely arousing and satisfying experience, I have to say I still love just plain masturbating.

There's a control in it. A heat that comes just from me. My pussy. My fingers. My clit. My hole. It's all about me. And that's the person I love the most.

I have more orgasms from masturbating than from sex. But it all happens very quickly. I can get about four or five massive ones just from me touching myself. And it happens in less than an hour.

It takes me longer with a partner. I don't know why. It just happens that way. Sometimes I think that I fuck just so I have more fodder for my masturbation. All sexual experiences stored away in a part of my brain. Little mpeg bits that I use and rehash when I fuck myself.

I love having sex. I adore most of the partners I've had recently. Well except for the speedfucker. They can get me off, some better and faster than others. But me, fucking myself with my own fingers? Like a timed rocket.

He asks me "I have a question. I've seen you naked. I like your body. Why are you walking around with a sheet?"

And I was. I realized, damn right he does like my body. In fact he loves fucking me. So why was I walking around with a sheet? I gave my first excuse, "I'm cold." 

"Okay," he says. 

Then I tell him, "I'm shy."

"I understand."

After that, I stopped walking around with a sheet.

One of the main differences between men and women, I believe, is their motive. There are long standing jokes about women after a date wherein they dissect everything and men just think in plain terms, and half the time don't even know if there's a problem.

I'm bringing this up now beause, well, I'm trying to figure out something. Which is bad. Why? Well because if you are it means either something isn't working or something is working too well. 

Situation: A man has turned me down. I wanted to have sex and he did not. The reasons he gave are the following:

1. He knows I'm really a nice girl and I'm just drunk.
2. We have certain common friends (who he probably doesn't want to know about a tryst because he may be trying to fuck some of them).
3. He has to maintain his creative flow because he has to write.
4. He sees something more in me and he thinks we can be friends (the first part of this made my eyes pop a little).

Just the fact that there are several entries in the list above already made me confused what the deal was. I have evidence that this man is interested in me:

1. He held my hand and kissed it.
2. He asked for my number.
3. He started the flirting with his body language. 
4. He initiated the first time we kissed (I was going to kiss him on the cheek but he turned his head so it landed on his lips and I was like, ok.)
5. He has kissed me again. 
6. And yes, I am gonna say it, I see it in his eyes. 

And granted, yes, the man is not hot. Well, his face looks ordinary enough but his body is kind of bear-ish in the old way I liked (taller than me and meaty. reference: V, X). And he is quite funny yet not as charming as some of the guys I've met (read:H and others), we have a lot in common and we can be good friends. But honestly, I just really wanted to fuck this one. And he turned me down. Which has NEVER happened to me before.

So we get drunk and I crash and I force him (very easily) to sleep in the same bed. I'm down to my knickers and he's got on shorts and a shirt. We groped, I went down on him a little, I masturbated (and came) 2x and he fondled my tits and put his fingers inside me. There was one time he was even jacking off behind me as we were spooning and he was slapping his cock against me. Most of that was my fault, but he initiated some too and he wasn't stoppind me too hard. Here are some of the lines he uttered during the night:

"It's not you. You're really really hot. " (uttered 10 times to which I always replied, "uh yeah"

"You must think I'm stupid." (often uttered after the line above to which I would again answer, "uh yeah.)

"You have a nice ass. I thought that when I met you, that you have nicely shaped hips."

"Listen do you wanna just go running with me tomorrow?"

"Why did you stop sucking me?" (I replied, cos you're not gonna fuck me anyway.)

"Why me, you can have any man you wanted. I bet you can get another man in 20 minutes."

 "Do you want to wake up and have a guy open your mouth like this (he presses my cheeks and opens my lips) and have him come inside your mouth?" (I told him it depends if we've already had sex)

"God you are so wet."

"Most women would be grateful..." (I'm assuming he means that they've been respected. I didn't want respect that night. I just wanted to fuck.)

If that isn't ocnfusing then I don't know what is. Two main points have been raised that may explain why things happened. One is that he really really wants to fuckour common friend and another is that it was a style. If it was the former, well, not sleeping with me will not ruin his chances and I guess the groping wouldn't work in his favor either. The funny thing is, I have no plans of telling our common friend. We're not as close as we appear to be. If it's the former, I guess it could work if I really really wanted to sleep with him. But nooow...not really... 

But I do agree with him. I am really really hot.

Hitting it. Soon. I think I may already have. Hating so many things. Hating so many people. Things and people that are (seemingly) a part of my life. Getting wasted doesn't seem like such a good idea. I don't trust people. I don't trust myself. I don't even what to fuck.

here are several signs of depression. One of it being not wanting to have sex. But then again I can still sleep. I can still eat. I can still masturbate. But fuck if I don't want to destroy everything in my life. Leave everyone I know. Shit on everything I own. Destroy things. Hurt people. Just completely remove them from my life.

Every time I got this urge I turned it toward things that may not have been the best idea for me. Ate everything I could lay my hands on. Or fuck everything that moved within my line of sight. Once I got so focused on not eating I lost 31 lbs. in 2 - 3 months. Because I stopped eating.

Now? What do I do now?

Abandon all the things I've worked on? Abandon the relationships I've built? I know where it comes from now. Hate. Self-hate. I'd always vowed I'd try to channel these destructive urges towards things that are good for me.

So here. I vow. To go on a purge. To purge myself. Of food. Of sex. Of friends. Of material things.

I'm sick of people thinking they know me. I'm sick of people I don't trust. I'm sick of people who want to fuck me, or who want me to do something, or who think I'll always go along with what they want. I'm sick of other people's problems. I'm sick of all this fucking shit.

Yes. I hate them. I hate me. I hate my life. And it's time to stop thinking about what else I could be doing, or why I'm not doing what I could actually be doing. An emotional enema. To remove all emotions. To stop feeling at ease with all these fuckers I can't trust.

Lines are blurred. People are uncaring. Life is shit. There are so many problems. And yet people tell me I need to do this for them when they have barely done anything for me.

Fuck harmony. Fuck peace. I don't want any of those. I don't want boring shit anymore. I need something else. I will stop listening to people who only think they know me or what I want or what I need or what I feel. How dare they? They are assholes.

And no this isn't period related. This is not related to jealousy or stupidity or lack of sex. It's me. And all the goddamn things around me. And all the people around me. I don't want this life. I want a new one. And despite all the times I've been whining and shit about this situation I will actually, no fucking around seriously, do something about it now.

A life. A life I want. Let the great purging experiment begin.