LET'S TALK ABOUT SEX!

My love life has been pretty sucky lately (pun intended), so I've been watching a lot of old porn, surfing the net, cause I love looking at plus size naked women and reading other people's whinings about their love life or their pitiful efforts in trying to recruit online lovers (ugh?!!!).  I will spill no whine before it's time.  I have historically made bad judgements while horny.  Time and experience have taught me to sit at home and avoid bad decisions.  Watching all that old porn and watching Flavor of Love has caused me to come to some conclusions about life in the 21st century.  So, I'll do what I do, baby.  

Why Single Men Are Becoming Obsolete                                                  

It's tough out here for single heterosexual men these days.  Women automatically question why you are single.  Is it because you're gay? Are you some type of pervert?   Are you too clingy?  There is no suitable answer.  Meanwhile, all my married friends, my gay friends that pretend not be gay, and my married friends that are secretly gay, are getting all the pussy/dick they desire, while I sit at home and choke Mr. Wiggles into convulsing. 

I've been out to the clubs, seeking suitable companionship.  The "new dating" scene is pretty pathetic.  I meet a lot of well healed professional  women that are sexually frustrated, feeling very alienated towards men and hopelessly addicted to late night eating.   At the club, young women stand right in front of you, until you attend to them, then engage you in a conversation that they should be having with their therapist.  I thought all that whining was cute, a few years ago, Lately, I've just been getting up and walking away.

The only women that seem to want to engage you are in relationships with someone else and want to "trade up", or they want to exact revenge on their lover.  The women I text with on the internet only want to hook up with other women or couples, so the husband can watch while they French his wife into a frenzy or they want passive men to garrote, beat up and insert what they can't own up a previously uninhabited orifice.  I'll pass.

I Long For Days Past                                                                             

When I was growing up, men who were men wanted to be good lovers to women or at least we hyped ourselves to try and be the best lovers we could.  We strove to be sexual athletes; not so much for bragging rights but as a component of self esteem.  When you went out with your woman you wanted her to hang all over you, give other women dirty looks for checking y'all out and lavish you with kisses in public.  The best way to sustain that adoration was to be an "aficionado" behind closed doors.

Old school players thought they were superior lovers by throwing a woman on the bed and trying to screw them into a coma, however, I've never seen a dick as large as a newborn baby, so at a point, the law of diminishing returns kicks in.  According to Ice Berg Slim, the best way to obtain the adoration of women was to be a skilled cunnilinguist.  Most men, back in the day would not own up to giving head.  Me and my friends were a little younger, egalitarian and very adventurous. 

Going Downtown To See My Gal                                                               

I read the Playboy Forum at 9 or 10.  I was well versed of Ice Berg Slim by 13.  At 15, one of my bestest friends, introduced me to the concept of oral gratification, as giver not receiver.  At 17, I experimented with the concept.  At about age 27, after 10 years of experimentation, I had an epiphany, early one winter morning that forever change my sexual habits.

My bestest bestest friend and I frequented an after hours joint.  The women danced nude, served drinks and sold their bodies to anyone brave enough to go there.  Occasionally, the women would put on spontaneous live sex shows.  Early one winter morning, an old worn out hooker named Red Snapper fell on her knees and commenced to felate the dancer who was writhing on her back on the little dining room stage.  The dancer began writhing in a slower more deliberate way.  She emitted soft moans that got progressively louder.  We sat there transfixed.  One idiot got up, walked to the edge of the stage and pulled his dick out.  Both of the women had their eyes closed and were too involved to notice or want the horny fool's uncircumcised dick.  The dancer climaxed right there on the stage, letting out a blood curdling scream.  Red Snapper became my hero.

After 10 years of practice, I had never heard a scream like that. after giving or getting head.  My friend and I talked about what we had seen for weeks.  We knew it was time to reconsider our stoic male points of view.

The Birth Of The Lezbian Brothers

My friend-who had witnessed the earth shattering event with me-came by my house a few weeks later.  We were drinkin and kickin it, as was our custom back then.  We started talking about what we had seen.  We typically analyzed everything we saw in social settings, until we figured it out (2 brothas trying to make sense out of our universe, but that's a book for later).  My friend announced that day that we would become The Lezbian Brothers and dedicate ourselves to loving women like another woman should! 

That day we put a name to our ongoing pursuit of being good men for our women.  We had had hundred of discussions about women, since our teen years.  Early in the game, we had decided to try to "think like women" when it came to the conundrum men and women typically find themselves in, when dealing with one another.  Behaving like we imagined a women would, in certain matters sexual was the next progression.

I began paying closer attention to women fellating other women in pornographic movies.  Instead of fast forwarding, I played scenes over and over, making mental notes, so that I might duplicate what I saw later.

It took another 10 years of practice, practice, practice to achieve satisfactory results.  I was fortunate to be in a stable, monogamous relationship, during that period.  My wife Countess Dracula was a willing participant.  She never knew that she was my experimental sex lab.  And I doubt that she cared.  Dracula squeezed my head so hard during one torrid session, my hair grew an inch longer!

Thigh Ear Muffs                                                                                           

I attribute part of Countess Dracula's insanity on some of the things I did to her behind closed doors.   An old man, wiser than me, warned me about the value of mediocre sex.  He believed that mediocrity, in a long term relationship, prevented women from going completely ga ga on you.  I dismissed what he had to say as implausible.  Mr.  Jack Hammer- ALLYOUCANEAT did not believe what he warned me about at all.  I was convinced that he was just old and worn out.  Pussy whipped, if you will.

My belief later bit me in the arse.  Me and Dracula would stay home from work and laze around, in bed, the entire day.  This went on for the first 3-4 months, after she moved in with me.  After a while, I noticed that she would just sit across from me, at the kitchen table or on the couch, and stare at me with her head cocked slightly, with this weird little smile on her face.  After a point, she began following me around the house, even into the bathroom.  At first, I was amused.   When she started paging me, if I was not home by 7pm or going off on me, in the car, because a waitress had been too attentive to me, I remembered the words of my old friend, alas too late.

Shop Talk And Urban Myths                                                 

I had a father in my home, all of my childhood.  One of the byproducts of having a live-in father or other significant male role models is: the inate ability to hold onto everything older men say to you. 

If you talk to a group of men long enough, the subject inevitably turns to sex.  At my first job, I worked with an old homosexual who was married with children, a young bi-sexual prostitute/drug head and an about to be married 7th Day Adventist virgin.  The old homosexual, Mr. Washington was always good for sage advice.  Marvin, the 7th Day Adventist did not have a clue in general and was about to be married.  Mr. Washington, who had a vast array of sexual knowledge, took it upon himself to instruct Marvin on how to have sexual intercourse on his wedding night.  Of course, yours truly, who took every opportunity to practice for my honeymoon, listened attentively.

I will not give away male fraternal secrets.  Suffice to say, that in my youth, I followed Mr. Washington's instructions to the letter.  I'm not sure that Marvin did.  The marriage only lasted about 2 years.      

Laws Of Physics                                                                                     

The universe is in a perpetual state of deterioration.  Time and friction does the same thing to one's Johnson.  Mr. Wiggles is as enthusiastic as ever.  Unfortunately, he has developed attention deficit disorder.   And there does not appear to be any good medicine for it.  Although periodic resuscitation helps a great deal. 

Time and experience have taught me how to compensate for Mr. Wiggles A.D.D.  I hope sharing these thoughts has stimulated you in some way.

Le Français Est Amour                                                                                 

Jusqu'à la fois prochaine. Veuillez étudier votre Français.  Pratique, pratique, pratique.  Auvoir, Madams a' Monsieurs (Until next time. Please study your French. Practice, practice, practice.  Goodbye, Ladies and Gentlemen).