I live in a world where if I don’t want to share a picture of myself with a complete stranger on the internet they automatically jump to “she must have trust issues.”
What the fuck, dude?
So I’ve been having a kind of fling with this one guy and the other night we got a little handsy.
Long story short, he was fingering me, he made me cum, it was a good time. MOMENTARILY.
Ladies, you’ll know this. Gentlemen, pay attention.
WHEN A WOMAN CUMS HER VAGINA GETS REAL SENSITIVE. Penises aren’t the only ones.
So when old mate kept going, I asked him to stop.
Instead he said in an intended sexy voice, “But what if I don’t want to?”
Let’s talk about this for a minute.
Just because you are successfully pleasuring someone does not give you the right to dictate what happens regardless of their wishes. I repeat. GIVING SOMEONE AN ORGASM DOES NOT GIVE YOU ENTITLEMENT OVER THEIR BODY.
He was trying to be sexy and maybe make me cum a second time. BUT we all know what they say about good intentions, don’t we?
So I repeated myself and asked him again. STOP.
He stopped moving but kept his fingers inside me. I had to use my legs to physically pull him out of me.
I had this moment where I felt very vulnerable. And it shouldn’t feel that way while being intimate with anyone.
Trust and respect are so important in these situations regardless of what kind of relationship it is, and to have that stained by something so easy to avoid is a real shame.
Listen to your sexual partners.
So my now ex has been messaging me trying to do the whole super dramatic goodbye thing.
As if this isn’t already heartbreaking enough for the both of us. I mean, we were THAT couple. The gooey one that everyone thought was gonna live happily ever after.
But sometimes things just don’t work out.
To make things worse, he keeps giving me advice on what to do/not to do with the next guy I date. As if that’s what I’m thinking about right after I break up with a guy I’ve loved long fucking term.
Basically he needs to find his own way, like I’m trying to do. He is going to have an amazing life without me and SO AM I.
So please, cut me out of your life like cancer.
We’ve all been there.
You’re sitting there. Biscuit crumbs stuck to your tits, your hair looking like a poorly done beehive (although let’s be real, were beehives ever not poorly done) and watching a show on tv you probably hate but there is literally NOTHING ON.
You start talking to someone online. You might know them. You might not. You might even be flirting with them because why the fuck not.
Then DING DONG and I’m not talking about a fucking doorbell.
You know, the picture that looks like they’ve stretched the poor worm out to match the size of a remote. Or maybe they have a very nice perpendicular appendage.
Doesn’t. Fucking. Matter.
If I don’t ask for it, I don’t want it.
The worst part is they get offended if you don’t want it. Like you should feel graced with the presence of not a penis, but a PICTURE of a penis. As if that’s gonna fucking do something for me? I would rather read a story from literotica than sit there and imagine something equivalent to a baby carrot being placed inside my vagina. Takes more than just a penis, lads!
Maybe it would get me off. Maybe I could imagine the feel of it especially with some “sweet talking” from the penis’ handler. Except I’m quite capable of getting real dick.
Oh and lads, please learn how to handle rejection. Telling me I should “go and get raped, pig” is not gonna make me regret rejecting your sorry ass.
Forgot how much I loved getting hickeys. I work in a professional environment so I have to be careful but wowza.