If you got the reference to the title and byline and have stuck around, sweet! Let's laugh at my failures together, shall we? Think of me as Ross. I hate Ross. Let's continue!
If you want to study the techniques implemented for the substitution of a "first kiss" to a "first slap" please go here
1. Q: Why is Santa Claus' sack so big? A: He only comes once a year.
My marriage came to an end. My future ex-wife announces she’s a lesbian and has been having an affair with her friend for 10 years. As you might imagine, I was devastated... because she was getting more pussy than me for the last fucking decade! That’s a story for another time. This story is about the first woman I dated after 18-years of being married.
The story and lesson I will be writing about is true, but names will be changed to protect one's identification.
How to sex, like a hopeless romantic. Like a hornball with intense urges to—excuse my language—fuck any living thing. Let me rephrase: any living human...thing.
Sex can be fun. Sex can be sexy. Sex can be orgasmic. However, sometimes sex can be a bit distracting. Not because we don't love our partner or desire them, but because as a parent, days can be LONG and EXHAUSTING. That is why, occasionally, when it is time for some late night lovin', a woman's mind may seem to wander and her attention may be everywhere but in the moment. Especially Monday through Thursday. It's not like we mean to, it just happens. What to do, where we have to go, what we forgot are just a few of the questions pestering our minds constantly and what better time than while partaking in a quiet concentrated activity like SEX to figure it all out. I mean it's dark, I'm naked, and the kids are asleep; sounds like the perfect time to overthink, plan, and list shit, if you ask me!
Sex. We are usually thinking about it, talking about it, anticipating it, or having it. There is nothing better then the seduction, the build up, the passion and intensity when you really want to bang someone's brains out. So, you've got your goodies, now you're laying in bed after the act and the person you've just shared your body with comes out with one of the following:
As a teen, I wasn't overly into sports. I wasn't one of the many kids at my school with an obsession for skating, or surfing, or passive activities like watching anime or playing video games. I wasn't a big reader nor addicted to the cinema. I found the other boys at my high school were interested in a wide variety of things, but myself, I only cared for the girls.
It all started when a dear friend somehow got it in his head that he could out-drink me.
Once my virginity was laid to rest, buried, and mourned, it was time for me to move on. I was determined to figure out what all the hype surrounding sex was all about. And not just for me, but for my vagina- after such a tragic loss, it was the least I could do. How does one set out on such a journey, you ask? It was time for a road trip, just me and my vagina, two pals looking for some penis. We didn’t have to look very far; hailing down a penis was a snap. My hand barely made it up over my head and already penises were lining up from all directions.
Sadly, I've been faking it my entire sexual journey. Except when I get the job done on my own, of course ;) But no guy has ever been able to legitimately get my rocks off, even though they'd beg to differ. But I know I'm not the only young women that has been living in this annoying reality. For those of you that can relate, let's reflect and applaud ourselves on our wonderful acting skills over the years.