too smart and too horny for her own good
“So what exactly is going on with you and The Marine?” asked New Old Friend. We went to grad school together and were friendly, but didn’t start really hanging out until we bonded at a mutual friend’s wedding recently. She ate a forkful of burrito and waited with teasing eyes.
“What? Nothing, we get it on and we hang out, but that’s all.” I dipped a chip in queso. I’m sick of having this conversation with my friends. Why do my friends want a definition if I don’t care?
I’ve met many guys who have named their cocks. Sometimes the name is normal, or at least not weird, and sometimes the name is very very weird. I shared one of my favorite WTF stories as the Friday Fellatrix on The Fellatrices blog, a site dedicated to all things blowjob. I figured I’d mix it up by throwing in something funny among all the hot and sexy.
Check out my latest post, Marco? Polo!
For those of you have encountered many a strange wang name (or named yours something special), please share it with us in the comments over at the Fellatrix site.
After a lot of anticipation (intimidation, fine, shut up), I finally had sex with The Marine tonight. Or attempted to have sex. No, it wasn’t the Superdick specifically that halted our efforts, it was The Marine’s lack of proper protection.
Dude. They teach this shit in Boy Scouts, and I’m sure they teach it in the marines: ALWAYS BE PREPARED. That means if you have a super-sized schlong, you buy super-sized condoms. DUH. You can’t make the square peg fit in the round hole either, Mr. Midvale School For the Gifted.
On Friday night I went to a party with The Marine. There he introduced me to all his coworkers and then loaded me up on margaritas and authentic Mexican food fresh out of the deep fryer. Everything was so nice, everyone was so relaxed–this is how I always feel around the Marine. Being with him is easy.
As the sun set over the tops of buildings, I smiled at The Marine and told him, “I like your world. It’s fun. It’s easy.” He looked at me with confusion. “I mean I don’t take myself so seriously when I’m around you. It’s nice.” He smiled and squeezed my hand.
I think all the naked time is getting to me. Clogging the brain. Blinding me. I can barely function as a normal human being. Of course this also happened when I went long periods without getting laid, so go shut the hell up.
And now I have to go to work? Seriously? I’m sorry Mr. Boss Man, but if you want me to get any work done you’re going to have to pry the cock out of my mouth and I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THAT YOU DON’T DO THAT. You know how animal mothers go all ape-shit crazy when someone goes after their young? I’M THAT WAY WITH COCK. LEAVE ME AND ALL THE PRETTY COCKS ALONE.
Last night I came home at two thirty in the morning with two perfectly defined hand prints on my ass. How can a girl expect to concentrate under these circumstances? IT CAN’T BE DONE.
On Monday night I went over to The Marine’s to hang out. Get my naked on. Whatever. It was only my second time at his apartment, our third “date”–not that I’m sure it counts if I show up with fast food and no make-up.
We ate our food and talked with the TV on in the background. The food in our bellies fed the fire in our bodies. We progressed from kissing to boobies (BOOBIES!! [something about the word just has to be yelped with glee]) to bare skin rubbing against bare skin.
On our second date I had sucked him off, and now it was time for The Marine to get his face down in my business.
When you start dating or sleeping with someone, it seems natural that you would take each other to your places. Apparently I am freakishly protective over my apartment, because I have no desire to bring back Jazz Man or The Marine to my apartment.
Maybe it’s the clutter, the messy kitchen, my two clit-blocking dogs, or maybe I just like to keep certain things private. Like fundamental parts of my personality.
Call me a dirty whore, but I love it when a guy cums on my face. I think there is nothing hotter or more animal than a guy hovering above me with a hard cock about to shoot his load. When he cums on my face I lick it all up, and if any goes on my tits I rub it all over my skin. I’ve been that way since I gave my first blowjob at fifteen.
As Jazz Man made clear, not many girls feel that way. Last week he gave me a very long and impassioned speech on how much he has wanted to cum on a girl’s face, but has rarely been accommodated. I politely waited for him to finish talking (the poor guy obviously needed to vent), and then I said, “I’ll do my very best to make up for what you’ve been missing out on.”
Dating again is awesome. Dating two guys at the same time is double awesome. Writing about dating two guys is exhausting. After a Saturday filled with helping some friends move, a crawfish boil with The Marine, a friend’s dinner party, and naked time with Jazz Man, I spent nearly all of Sunday sleeping.
Not that I am complaining. Oh no no no. I am basking in the awesomeness of it all. Just, um, come back tomorrow after I’m done basking in the exhaustion. Until then, I have a date with my bed. It has been feeling neglected lately.
Within minutes of walking in The Marine’s apartment on Wednesday, he gave me a present. On our first date I had mentioned that I love collecting weird little things for my desk at work, and I could tell he was storing that information in the “ways to make Vix happy” mental filing cabinet somewhere between close the door when you pee and always have chocolate in apartment.
So yesterday I was delighted when he handed me a cute little box covered in cartoon elephants and lions. It said ANIMAL KINGDOM in bright letters across the box.
“What is it?” I asked, assuming it was a toy of some sort. Then I read in the corner “bubblegum flavored.”
This evening I went over to The Marine’s apartment to “not watch a movie.” Without being cramped into the front seat of a car, we were able to have a lot more fun. Now let me just say–
Wow. The Marine has the biggest cock I have ever seen in my life. When he pulled down his boxers my jaw dropped to the floor.
Last night The Marine and I went on our first date. We met at a little Vietnamese restaurant that he swore was the most authentic Vietnamese food he could find in the city. When I walked in and saw that I was the only white person, I knew he was serious.
The Marine lived in Vietnam years ago, so he actually knew what everything on the menu was beyond “chicken” and “noodle.” I told The Marine I trusted his taste and he could order whatever he thought was good. When the waitress came over The Marine started talking to her in Vietnamese, which impressed me, the sucker that I am for all things foreign. I liked that he chose a place for the authenticity and not the big prices, because the food he chose was excellent. I couldn’t identify a damn thing on the whole table, but that didn’t stop me. We ate and talked for hours.
*18+ Only Please*
I'm Vix, a 27 year-old Texan. After 18 years of private education and 3 degrees, I'm trying to leave the corporate world behind to become a sex/humor writer and novelist. I'm sexy, funny, ugly, raw, and entirely real-- because there's more to me than being a blowjob queen.
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