Britches-n-Prose

Not to brag, but it’s been a great couple of weeks for new love encounters, making out, and getting it on (Spring is in the air). Despite my physical connections being with men across the board, they sadly all had one thing in common, “I know I should last longer.” On the surface you’re probably thinking in giggles or possibly ‘what a bummer for her,’ but really it was a let down to an otherwise fun encounter.

I’m not quite sure why suddenly men are so concerned about “lasting like a porn star,” I mean they realize it’s a movie right? Batman doesn’t really jump off the Hancock building in Chicago, and Evan doesn’t really pound it out for 30-40 minutes straight. If I’m getting off, you’re more than welcome to get off. Hell, you can even get off without me if my mouth is just that good. Men have other tools, and surprise men, your cock will get hard again someday!!

Each lover I’ve had in the past few weeks has done their job, we had some fun, and then suddenly I’m struck with this sadness when I hear, “I know I should last longer than this.” Chill out! Have some fun, you are fucking a girl who wants to be pleasing you as a response to her pussy now dripping from cum. The takeaway guys: It’s way hotter to own your dick and show appreciation than to not have fun and stress about a problem that’s not really a problem.

Now ladies, we are falling into this same illusion. We don’t have to make a guy “cum” (by this I mean ejaculate) every time they stick it in a hole. If you’re a squirter like me then you can relate. Sometimes you get off, come hard, and still want more, but you don’t have anymore “juice” left in you. Guys can have the same thing happen to them. Some of my favorite sessions involve getting my lover off quick, and then laying back while he tickles my body into uncontrollable spasms, then rams me hard with a dick that can cause pleasure to all parties rather than worry.

Basically, I think sex should be fun, and not a chore. It should be pleasurable, and not something that causes anxiety and worry.

Own your dicks & pussies. Cum when you want. And always thank me for a good time.

I don’t expect everyone to understand my relationship choices, I encourage questions, I respect conversations, and in return I expect the ones close to me to respect my choices, even if they don’t agree.

My upstairs neighbor is a very “standard” sexer. He gets drunk on the weekends, meets girls, lays down a smooth line, and tries to seal the deal by bringing them home. Once he gets them back home he fucks them like a normal drunk American boy should. He closes his eye when he kisses her, and thinks missionary is the key to getting a good night’s fuck.

I don’t judge. He’s getting some. It’s not my idea of a good time, but by no means do I think he’s wrong or bad for working this angle.

I consider myself a pretty “adventurous: sexer. I try new things, I take pride in the type of communication I have with my lovers, and yes, I have multiple lovers.

Recently I was joined by the drunk version of my upstairs neighbor only to discover I was the girl in his sights for the night. The problem here? He was lacking any sort of tact or smooth moves. To paint you the picture, one minute he was trying to put his hand down my pants, and the next he was questioning my motives and dignity.

He asked me how I could say I cared for someone as much as I cared about @sexhero and still fuck someone else. He called me gross for having multiple (overlapping) sexual partners, then he stuck his hand up my shirt.

I asked him how he could question my regular lovers, when he didn’t even have to know the girl’s last name. He followed it up with telling me my last name and then asking why I’d fuck “anything” but I wouldn’t touch him (that’s a whole other story).

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m honored to be one of the “hot” girls in his sights but where does he get off criticizing my choices when his hand is down my pants? Is anyone else having a hard time keeping up?