Shit. Man. Fuck. Hmmmm…..Well, I’m just gonna go ahead and say what we’re all thinking. Congratulations, Sickie 27! That’s pretty spectacular. If, by some chance you have no idea what I’m talking about, simply read the comments from yesterday’s entry “Hold On Dodge”. Easily the single greatest comment this dumb blog has ever generated. For those of you who don’t have the time or the patience, she just let some dude blow a load on her cans for the first time ever. Again, congrats!
Sexual firsts are pretty hilarious across the board, right? I mean, the first time I put my hand in a girl’s pants my brain completely scrambled because there was no wiener. I had never put my hand in any pants but my own, and the disconnect was too much for me to bear. I panicked, couldn’t figure out what was going on, never found the uh, entrance…and gave up in a huff, kind of like Nick Lachey when he tries to snowboard in that one episode of that dumb show about him and his mongaloid wife (although I didn’t throw the girl’s pussy down the stairs and stomp on it like Nick did to his snowboard…I’m a gentleman, after all.)
The first time someone put their hand in MY pants…Honestly, I don’t remember the situation, or who it was or anything like that, but I remember distinctly feeling like my hand was numb. I was already proficient in whacking off, so I was used to the feeling of wang in hand, hand on wang. It was burned into my synapses, so when suddenly the hand on my wang wasn’t mine, my brain misfired and read the whole thing as it STILL being my hand, but my hand just not being able to feel my wang, due to, I suppose, numbness.
I don’t know if I’m explaining this the right way. It was monumentally confusing.
I’m struck though, by Sickie27’s awesome comment. She let this dude blow a load on her chest…I’ve never in my life ‘let’ a girl do something interesting to me. That’s men versus women for you. You’ll never hear a guy say “I let her blow me” Nah, not true. More to the point, you’ll totally hear some asshole dude say that, but it’s taken as a given that what he means is “I totally bought her drinks, told her how pretty she was, took her to my house/her house/the car/the mensroom and begged for a beej/kind of nudged her head towards my crotch while we were making out/frantically and pathetically texted over and over again/etc, and now that I’m done with all that, I feel like a dork for being such a pussy and chatting up some girl and ignoring all my friends who were actually having a fun night just so I could get this blowjob from this dumb chick that I shouldn’t even be wasting my time with but I can’t help it because I’m kind of pathetic, so I’m gonna pretend that the ball was in my court the whole time and that I finally broke down and granted her the honor of blowing me.”
But let’s be honest…guys really aren’t ‘letting’ things happen. I’ve never allowed anything. My expectations, pants wise, have always been more like what they want from the chicks on rock of love or flavor of love. “Hey, welcome. Feel free to just hang out and do nothing if you don’t care about getting a pass to the next episode, but I’d also like to suggest that you are more than welcome get drunk and go as absolutely butt wild as you possibly can imagine.” I think this is almost every man’s general party line when it comes to this sort of thing….I mean, right? Of course.
Women really are the gatekeepers, and not just because vaginas are like gates and dongs are like keys (but with sores and warts instead of teeth), but because they are the ones allowing things. Fuck, you think at gay bars or bathhouses there’s a question of chest-load etiquette? Doubtful. Look, this is nothing new, and I’m aware of that. Men are horny slobs. Women deal with them in exchange for being able to tell long stories about shoes and coworkers and have someone listen. Right? I know, it’s the subject of BILLIONS of stand up routines already. I’m not original. Whatever, I gotta wash this load off my chest and get to work. Peace.