Controlling Your Loins: That Shit Is Hard (no pun intended)

You meet an individual who sparks your interest… something about their personality is cool. You like how they carry themselves… but mostly they spark the interest of your loins. I mean, you REALLY want to take this person DOWN! Every time you see this person, some intense Hollywood sex scene plays in your head. You know- the kind where they’re kissing so feverishly that they’re bumping into and knocking over everything in sight as they’re trying to undress each other. The kind where he pushes her up against a wall and she wraps her legs around him, and he grips her up…Y- you know what the hell I’m talking about! We’ve all been there, I’m sure.

If you’re a woman, you fantasize about all the freak-ass things you’ll let him do to you. If you’re a man, you can see ALL the freak-ass things you wanna have her doing. To top it off, you KNOW the feeling is mutual. You KNOW the person wants you as badly as you want them. You’re both consenting adults. So what’s the problem???

Well, for starters, their connection to you is somewhat of a delicate nature. Either he’s friends with your ex, or she’s your homeboy’s lady (yeah, you know how y’all niggas are). And to make matters WORSE, they’re taken! Fuck, fuck, FUCK!!! Wait! NO! Don’t fuck, fuck, fuck! SMH. Got-damn forbidden fruit! What do you do?

You know that because you CAN’T have it, it is SOOOOOOOOOO good! And if it ever did go down, it would be so intense. *licks lips* Somehow, some way, you find yourselves around each other enough for it to be a problem -remember, you’re connected some way. When you see each other every innocent thing said between the two of you is some kind of secret flirtation that only the two of you know exists. Every hug, there’s an extra feel stolen. Every move you make is a little sexier –or whatever the fuck it is guys do to get a girl’s attention- cuz you know they’re watching.

The more you see each other, the stronger the attraction gets. You continue your publicly secret flirting, and your stolen feels.  Until one day… you two find yourselves in the same place, at the same time, and somehow… alone.

Small Penises: What Do You Know, Sir?

Dear bearer of the small penis… No, you, nigga! Don’t click out of the page. I’m talking to yo’ ass!

Have you any idea the package you bear?  My assumption is no. I mean, how could you know? It’s not like men sit around and compare dick size… Or do they? I don’t think it’s like women, how we walk around naked in front of each other with no problem, or compliment each other’s features: Girl, your ass is so fat. I wish I had a booty like that. Or Girl, you’ve got the most perfect titties I’ve ever seen. Can I touch ‘em?

Could you imagine? Men’s locker room at the gym, guy comes out of the shower and another guy sees his package: Yo, homie, ya joint lookin’ mad nice yo. How many inches are you?

 Bwahahahaha!!! The thought alone is comical! So, yeah, I’m convinced, men can’t possibly know they’ve got small penises, cuz they don’t really have anything to compare it to. I mean, he can’t compare it to porn, cuz everything looks bigger on TV. And porn guys use pumps and pills and all kinds of shit to make their dicks look presentable. And if a woman is feeling you, she’s not gonna tell you your joint is small –which is why waiting to sleep with a guy is ALWAYS a risky thing. You get to know him, get your feelings in it, then *BAM* he whips it out and it looks like a big toe or something! Naaaaaah! 90 days, my ass!!

Sidenote: If you have a small package, you do NOT have a dick, sir. You, my dear, have a penis. And if she does think it’s small, she’s still gonna fuck you. If you men didn’t know, let me inform you… Once a woman decides she wants to take you down, she’s going to take you down! If you’re in her plans, it’s going down –unless you’ve got a dirty dick. WHY??? Because we DO know that sometimes, size DOESN’T matter, and that “motion in the ocean” bullshit isn’t always bullshit.

So yeah, she’ll give you a chance to change her opinion of you from “JUST nigga with a little penis” to “A nigga with a little penis WHO CAN…” And trust me, if you’re a nigga with a little penis, you never wanna be JUST a nigga with a little penis. You better make it your life’s duty to bust that twat ALL the way down! We know you can’t reach the bottom, nigga, but you can tear those walls UP!!! You bend her ass up in some kinda position where EVERYTHING is out of your way. No thighs, no ass, no legs, no lips, just vag –ALL vag! And you dig that shit OUT!

And you can do it, little homie. I’ma tell you why… (My ladies may hate me for this next revelation, but I have to tell it. I’m trying to do a public service here, people!) You know how when we’re fucking you, we can throw our legs all the way back behind our heads, and do all kinds of crazy splits on the dick, and have the deepest arch when you’re giving those backshots that you’ve EVER seen??? It ain’t cuz we’re talented (even though that’s a partial factor). It’s because there’s not a huge DICK up in the way stabbing us in the gut! The only reason a woman can do all that crazy shit with a man with a real dick is because 1) She’s got all this adrenaline from showing off to impress his ass –yeah, women’s egos are WAY bigger than men’s- so it actually doesn’t hurt at that moment.  2) She’s a real fucking trooper and she’s taking that pain, cuz she’on wanna look like a punk bitch! Or 3) [And this is NOT the ideal situation] Homegirl’s snatch has died. It’s snatch-less, doesn’t have any fucking walls. Her shit is run down, and beat all the way up. And neither she nor he feels ANYTHING.

                  **Moment of silence for bitches with dead poon**

Aaaand we're back! So how, you may ask, do you deduce whether or not you’ve got a small penis??? I’m gonna tell you that, too. There are multitudes of ways to do it without pulling out instruments of measurement. I know those things are embarrassing for you. Don’t worry boo; I’m on your side :-) So here we go... You know how you’re getting it in and she’s super wet… and you keep falling out of the vag? And you're thinking one of two things: either she's got loose poon or she's just a super soaker. Well, I'm here to inform you that neither of those are the case. If YOU keep falling out, it's you. Yes, you’ve got a small penis. It’s not her. Have you ever tried to throw a hot dog down a hallway???
Another way you can tell if you’re not quite there in the size department is on your very first insertion. If you slide up in her and she doesn’t moan, wince, inhale, exhale heavily –no type of sound that signifies pleasure or pain… You get the point.
Another way (and this is the last one I’m giving you) to tell if you’ve got a penis vs a dick is when she goes down on you… If she wraps her hand around your situation and more than 50% of it is covered… yeah. You, sir, have what we call, a penis.

SO¸ now that we’ve figured out that you’ve got a penis, what do you do about it? Well, sir, I can’t really answer that for you. If you’re truly ready to accept what you were cursed with, my best advice to you is this: Find you a woman with little to no ass. I know these days that’s extremely hard to find with all the purchasable options out there, but they DO still exist. Or you find a woman with one of those tiny vaginas. They’re plentiful in the Asian and Eastern European regions (so I’ve heard). They don’t even have lips –just a slit, a clit, and a hole. Again, this is only what I’ve heard.

“Follow these words, you’ll have mad bread to break up. If not 24 years on the wake up. Slug hit your temple, watch yo’ frame shake up. Caretaker did your makeup.”

Ok, ok! You won’t make mad money, and you won’t die (as long as you wrap it up and don’t slip up on no Ooh-Wee *the bad variety*). But you should be better off in the sack. Ladies, help ‘em out. Move that ass out the way. Let him get his little self all the way up in there. “Spread Love. It’s the Brooklyn way!”

Sexting... For the Awkward: How the Hell Do You Do It???

Did you know that “Sexting” is a real word now? Go ahead. Type it into Microsoft Word. See a red line under it? Didn’t think so!
I really think this whole sexting thing has to be some kind of “art” or just a brainless function. I mean, besides sending raunchy flix, how the hell do you sext? (I can’t believe I just typed the word “sext” on my computer and there’s no FUCKING RED UNDERLINE!!! This is crazy to me! Anywho…) I mean, I dunno if you noticed from my last post, I can find a million and one euphemisms for the word “vagina”, but that all too famous “P” word just ain’t one of ‘em. (Wait a minute! “Ain’t” gets a RED underline, but “Sext” doesn’t??? This can’t be life! Woosah.) Don’t get me wrong, I can use ithe "p" word, but to me, there’s a time and place for it. When it’s time to get down with the get-down and we’re in the throes of passion and he says, “Tell me it’s my p____, baby!” I'm right there with him, “It’s your p____, daddy! It’s yours!!!” No hesitation. I got it. But um, textually… that’s kinda not it for me. I get all cognizant of the words and I’m embarrassed and grossed out. Maybe that’s just something I’m gonna have to get over if I plan on flourishing in my career as an erotic novelist, huh? But what about the context of the text? That’s a little hard for me to compose as well. I mean, how am I supposed to carry this conversation with no real provocation? I’m not horny. It’s 1:27 in the afternoon. I’m eating Cap’n Crunch in my sweats in this bright-ass living room. And I get a text like this:

Him: Hey sexy. What u doin’?

Me:   Nothing. Chillin’. Wassup with you?

Him: Ain’t shit. I just thought about you and my dick got rock hard.

TIME OUT! Nigga WHAT? Aren’t you at WORK? So you mean to tell me you’re walking around the office with a hard-on? Naaaaah!
But you can’t text that back to him. Why not? Because he’s a man. And men can’t take rejection. And he got up the courage to tell YOU at One Twenty-Seven in the afternoon that thoughts of your sexy ass have stimulated his situation, and now his situation is situated. Now, what ‘chu gon’ do???

Now, if you’re a textual genius and you know how to handle this, good for you! But for the textually awkward/challenged such as myself, the first thing I realize is that this is the beginning of a sext. This man just sexted me!  So, he notices the delay in my response, and I get another text like this:

Him: Send me a pic, baby.

Now, I’m not the kinda girl who takes random sexy flix of herself. You’re not gonna catch me butt-ass naked in front of the mirror, bussin’ it open, contorting myself to get the right angle with this damn camera phone that I need two hands to use, but in order to get this shot right, I have to have my good hand holding my damn thigh out of the way, so I have to arc my wrist and do the “retard” hand so my thumb can be on the button to take the fucking pic that I have to take 32 got-damn times because it keeps coming out blurry cuz I’m shaking trying to keep myself steady for this one damn pose…
Naaaaaaaah nigga! Not me!  So, now, he wants a damn picture that I DON’T have. So I have to play cute and text him:

Me: Hang on baby. I’ma take a new one for you.

And you can’t say “JUST for you”, cuz who the fuck else have you been taking sexy pix for? So, now you take off your sweats, and run to find some cute panties, hop your ass in front of that mirror, buss it open, arch your back, do the retard wrist, and take 5 blurry-ass pics of you trying to be sexy at 1:32 in the afternoon. Now to find the least blurry shot to send to this man who’s been waiting for… 3 minutes? And you know that THREE minutes in text time is like three hours. So in sext time, it must be DAYS! 

So, I finally get the picture to him, and although I don't think it's up to par, he's a man, he doesn't care. All he wants to see is some skin. And the sexting continues:

Him: Shit girl! 

Me: :-P

Him: That ass lookin' good. Tell me what you want me to do to it. 

Um... what? I don't know. What the hell do you say to that? I already told y'all how I am about that "p" word. Am I supposed to be like, "I want you to fuck the shit outta my VAGINA"... Or, "I want you to eat this poon real good, baby."
Um... No. But I've gotta maintain the (non-existent) "sexy". So I hit him with:

Me: You tell me what you wanna do to it.

I think that's the right response. I'm just hoping he doesn't ask me another question. And thankfully he doesn't. He just talks of spit-filled head, and sticking his dick in every possible orifice of mine, and I'm just looking at my phone like, What is wrong with him??? It's not like we did something last night or even last WEEK. Not like I have any recent memories to go off. Nothing to pull from. No inspiration. Just this RANDOM ass conversation in the middle of the afternoon. No dim lights, no Trey Songz in the background. Just Guy Fieri talking about some "Winner, winner! Chicken dinner!"

Maybe if he chose a better time... Nah, cuz my awkward ass would still be uncomfortable. If that sext isn't an invitation for an invitation, I'm not tryna hear it. 'Cause if you actually DO turn me on and I've got to wait an extended period of time get some, I'm gonna be pissed. Aside from, pix, I can't really do the sexting thing. Besides, we don't need all this conversation. "I'on luuuuh deez hoes!"