Diva
04-04-02, 09:17PM
It's Not The Size Of The Wand That Matters... Bullshit!
Unless that 'wand's' magic has the force of a fire hose... you'd better have the size to back it up. Seriously. If your idea of whipping it out' is more like flicking, lets just cuddle. Don't give me this 'I can still please you' crap, either. Oral sex is enjoyable to a point. But lets face it... If it was a choice between telling some guy where to put his tongue and don't stop there [which basically means he does and you have to wait for him to hit that spot again] or you jerking yourself off knowing what feels good and where, I'll take the hand. Screw the foreplay, just fuck my brains out... over and over and over.... No teasing, either. You know, when you get a good rhythm going and then just ... stop. Or pull out. I hate that! Why do guys think that it's a turn on? Those aren't moans of a woman being satisfied... It's the only sound that we can make that's the equivalent of, "Sonofabitchwhatthefuckdoyouthinkyourredoigslamthat cockinsidemanddon'ttakeitout!!"
I don't fucking believe it! What a way to start a day! I open my door to find this little slip of paper taped to my door. "The building owner will be on-sit e today with an inspector. They may need to access your apartment." Bullshit! I'm supposed to get at least a twenty-four hour notice. Not two, damn it! I scan my apartment... Shit! Shit! Shit! It looks like a cyclone hit it. There are three stages of cleanliness. The first is so clean the dust sparkles as it lands. It's called the "Manager/boss/first date clean". The next stage is vacuum and put everything in neat piles. Commonly referred to as the "Excuse my place, it's a mess" trying to impress/show people that you're a neat person. I.E. Lie. The last stage is the dating over six months/childhood friend/on deathbed sick stage. You know where everything is, basically. Mine was after that. Commonly referred to as the single and loving it/don't touch my stuff stage. The health inspector walks away empty handed... and leaves you alone with your hand stage. After cleaning everything up... I.E. throwing everything into boxes and tossing them into the closet... I do a final inspection. Damn it! I keep my bottles and give them to this little old lady. But, I haven't been able to catch her so I could bring down the bottles. so they piled up. Big time. I would either look like the biggest party-girl... or biggest lush, neither which is a good impression to give to the owner. So I shlepped the bottles downstairs. I just know I'm gonna come home and find... Damn! I just remembered... my underwear's hanging out to dry. Lovely, simply lovely.
Unless that 'wand's' magic has the force of a fire hose... you'd better have the size to back it up. Seriously. If your idea of whipping it out' is more like flicking, lets just cuddle. Don't give me this 'I can still please you' crap, either. Oral sex is enjoyable to a point. But lets face it... If it was a choice between telling some guy where to put his tongue and don't stop there [which basically means he does and you have to wait for him to hit that spot again] or you jerking yourself off knowing what feels good and where, I'll take the hand. Screw the foreplay, just fuck my brains out... over and over and over.... No teasing, either. You know, when you get a good rhythm going and then just ... stop. Or pull out. I hate that! Why do guys think that it's a turn on? Those aren't moans of a woman being satisfied... It's the only sound that we can make that's the equivalent of, "Sonofabitchwhatthefuckdoyouthinkyourredoigslamthat cockinsidemanddon'ttakeitout!!"
I don't fucking believe it! What a way to start a day! I open my door to find this little slip of paper taped to my door. "The building owner will be on-sit e today with an inspector. They may need to access your apartment." Bullshit! I'm supposed to get at least a twenty-four hour notice. Not two, damn it! I scan my apartment... Shit! Shit! Shit! It looks like a cyclone hit it. There are three stages of cleanliness. The first is so clean the dust sparkles as it lands. It's called the "Manager/boss/first date clean". The next stage is vacuum and put everything in neat piles. Commonly referred to as the "Excuse my place, it's a mess" trying to impress/show people that you're a neat person. I.E. Lie. The last stage is the dating over six months/childhood friend/on deathbed sick stage. You know where everything is, basically. Mine was after that. Commonly referred to as the single and loving it/don't touch my stuff stage. The health inspector walks away empty handed... and leaves you alone with your hand stage. After cleaning everything up... I.E. throwing everything into boxes and tossing them into the closet... I do a final inspection. Damn it! I keep my bottles and give them to this little old lady. But, I haven't been able to catch her so I could bring down the bottles. so they piled up. Big time. I would either look like the biggest party-girl... or biggest lush, neither which is a good impression to give to the owner. So I shlepped the bottles downstairs. I just know I'm gonna come home and find... Damn! I just remembered... my underwear's hanging out to dry. Lovely, simply lovely.