What IS IT with sex?

filipes sleeping

Exhausted

I don’t know if it’s just me, or if anyone else can relate to the unfairness of sex. I spent last night in the pleasant company of two bisexual guys and we all had a great deal of fun – three ways.

This experience was partly research for a new short story idea, and partly to ease an ache to be filled (you know what I mean, right ladies?). No-one can say that I’m not committed to my art. 😀

I wanted to get the low-down on how guys fuck (each other) and I was surprised by a couple of things that I thought I knew – but clearly didn’t!

At some point during their demonstration I found that I was so turned on by their fucking that I couldn’t help but gravitate towards the bed – and found myself getting fully involved with both of them.

Anyway, to get to the point, I was appalled to find that an hour or after having had a thoroughly pleasant time with these guys (and reaching the point where I had to wheeze ‘stop – please!’) that I retained no sensation of the evening’s activities at all.

Nothing. Even the warm glow in my tummy had faded.

Sure, this morning my thighs and my butt cheeks ached (I was trying to be uncharacteristically flexible in order to try out ALL the positions), but if last night had been a drunken haze, then this morning I could NOT have been certain that anything other than some light gymnastics or some over-enthusiastic dancing had taken place.

What the hell?  Where’s the lasting afterglow?  Where’s the week-long ‘ahhhh’ that should follow sex? It’s as if my body has just shrugged and said ‘right, now let’s get on with the day.’

What am I doing wrong?  Am I being too vanilla  (Hello…threesome?  Bi-guys in all three…ahem…too much info)?

No, I’m sorry, it’s just not good enough.  Mother Nature, I want a word with you! I want a memento of last night’s undignified hammering where I got nailed…um…damn it, I can’t even remember how many times!

*sigh*

lipstick kiss mini

STOP PRESS; I was showering a couple of hours later and realised that my nipples were unusually tender from the rough treatment they’d received.

BIG DEAL! I could’ve gotten the same sensation from jogging round the park in a cheap bra…

If a man woke up as a woman…

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Following on from my last post…

If a man was to wake up one Saturday morning as an adult female, with a timer nearby counting backwards 23:59:44; 23:59:43… (to assure him that it wasn’t permanent) what do you think he would do with his remaining hours?

Think quickly because his time is running out.

Here’s a couple to start you off – and this is purely speculation;

1) He’d immediately strip off his jammies and stare at himself in the bedroom mirror.  Probably for hours.

2) He’d phone the nearest veg shop and get them to send round a corn cob, a cucumber…anything!

3) Once he’d reduced the fruit and veg to a sticky pulp, he’d probably Google the address of the nearest lesbian nightclub.

4) Out would come the camera for a hundred ‘I shot myself’ full-length mirror pics.

and finally….

5) He’d finally succeed in locating that elusive clitoris!

lipstick kiss mini

Annie

X

PS with regard to point 3, I assume he wouldn’t want an ordinary M/F tryst.  I couldn’t imagine ‘her’ wanting to lie beneath a guy.  I may be wrong…