I sometimes wonder if human beings are meant to be monogamous. I’ve read eagles and barn owls are, and wolves and beavers mate for life. Ross said lobsters are, on “Friends,” so it must be true. It just seems so strange that male sexual energy is wired so differently than the female’s. I know there are so many gender orientations and underlying hormonal issues so one can’t categorize based on gender alone; but as a general argument, if a person has a penis vs. vagina there are some major differences.
It seems that penises have the need to spread the seed. It’s a wild continuous spraying. Monsanto has taken over the male’s sexually at the age of 13 and he must implant and root in every female (or male depending on his personal desires) in every direction until the world is full of his GMOs alone. The female (or highly sensitive estrogen-driven male) is completely the opposite. She’s picky and wants only the best, most organic penises to implant in her non-pesticide, vagina garden to create the perfect fruit (or child). The female is not finicky based on looks alone, once she grows out of her adolescent stage. She can differentiate between the light and dark side. I have personally found the best men shine golden under average Joe exteriors, and produce superior offspring. Males, however, or the penis driven, seem to have a much harder time growing beyond the visual senses. Choosing mates is almost always based on superficial beauty. Beauty, like youth, is fleeting. Plastic surgery and makeup are such wonderful tools for denying the truth. There has to be a deeper connect to create a perfect union. Penises lie. Get a grip on that sucker. Take control. What really irks me, and the whole premise of this strange blog is the way we (men and women or sympathizers) get off differently. It takes on average 2 minutes for a man’s penis to become fully aroused enough to ejaculate. All it takes is a flash of something he’s into whether it be random nudity, toes for shrimpers, or elbows for men in the 1800’s. Vaginas, on the other hand, have to warm up, be coddled; and not just physically, but mentally and emotionally, to finally finale. It makes no sense to me. How unfair. This has been on my mind lately because my tween is comfortable enough to continuously ask me questions which I would rather not answer, but do, because I’m a teacher and a mom. I want her to know the truth before some boy chases her with his penis out. Men are trained to sext, to foreplay, to wine and to dine their lady friends, (or the more feminine of their mates) because there is something off with this sex thing. I can’t complain, my husband is fully trained to my tastes, 18 years will do that, and my record time is 7 minutes. But I can bet with my training to my husband’s tastes I could get him off in 30 seconds. That is a 6 minute 30 second discrepancy. We have to work together to create the real magic--a mutually timed dual explosion. With children in the next room and a squeaky bed that’s quite a challenge. This leads me to a moment in my youth when I had a crush on a good looking young man. We were both single, and the attraction seemed mutual. I was hosting a party and speaking to a friend casually. We were both were sitting on a bed. The bathroom was connected to the room I was in and my crush walked into the loo. The door was open. He saw me and smiled. The person I was speaking to had his head turned toward me. He didn’t see the man I thought I liked whip his cock out and display it to me like a commercial for a fine sausage. In retrospect, with my more mature mentality and appreciation for penises, it was a good one. In reality I was appalled and felt somewhat violated for the steps: 1. Hello 2. How are you? 3. I would like to get to know you 4. We should hang out 5. Hang out 6. I really like you 7. Kiss 8. Other forms of make out were skipped. He went straight to 9. Check this out I wonder if I was overly prudish, or if that move was just kind of weird. I opened my eyes really wide and pretended it didn’t happen. We never hung out again and I will never again mention the party that I saw him advertising kielbasa. It took me a few good and bad relationships to figure out what I needed in my life, and I’m really happy that I am one of the few people that has a pretty great relationship. I contribute my healthy sex life (rock on, old lady) to many mistakes, much laughter, and a shit ton of mutual orgasms. A young friend came over last night and told me to tell her fiancé she needed more back rubs. She said he didn’t give them to her anymore, but he’d listen to me. I explained to him that a simple connection like a massage is the prerequisite to great sex. If you want boring sex, just smoosh that fat boy in, but if you want stellar sex, get that girl hot. Don’t do a lazy, quicky massage either, try oil and candles and sexy music. Kiss the hairs on the back of her neck and make her beg. Seriously. Compromise is key. Because my man understands this and we are both old fashioned, monogamous humans we’ll stay happily together. I have a rule that if my man scrubs or cleans he gets the good stuff, even if I’m not in the mood. I don’t need diamonds or gold, but I do like a clean bathroom and kitchen. To each his own, though.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
My mind wandersI write whatever I'm thinking in no particular order Archives
July 2023
Categories |