Everything Matters

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Because more women need to obsess about dick. When it comes to sex there are some things gay men can’t do for us. Like have vaginas.

Men know this stuff matters. And yet somehow women seem do like to tell each other (and men) that the vagina accommodates what’s offered.

No. Look, men obsess over tits and arses. What feels better. What feels worse. I obsess over cock. You’ve got to do something to feel a bit sexually normal when your favourite smell is your own piss on a man’s face. (That’s not glibbery - that’s the truest thing I ever said.)

1. Different cocks feel different from one another - obviously.
Just like different faces look different. Similarly, some people find some faces handsome that other people find gross. And vice versa and versa vice. Similarly also, there are some faces that are just gross to everyone and there are some cocks that are just rubbish to everyone.

2. Size matters.
Length is important. For me, not so much for the whole super-deep thing (although that can be nice) but the nature and ferocity of the thrusting. A longer cock means a longer stroke.

3. But it’s not just size that matters.
You shouldn’t just obsess about length, you should also be worried about everything else about your cock. I know I’m not alone in liking thickness. Veins are nice. And the more vertical a cock is when erect - I love it when the granite hard cock is super tight against the equally rocky abs - the more I fancy they’re going to hit the front wall (but that might be my imagination).

4. Of course it sucks if you aren’t the right amount of hard at the right time.
Of course I’m disappointed if you are about to fuck me and you lose your erection. Jesus! Like wouldn’t you be if my vagina was closed for the evening? Yes it fucking matters. No oral sex is not a fair substitute. (It isn’t and if I feel like oral sex I want it as well as the fucking, ta. I’m sure your tongue is very special. But unless it is so special it is actually a cock don’t oversell.)

All the shitty and angst about failure-to -launch would be much better dealt with is people were just honest about how it makes them feel. So I don’t say it doesn’t matter. It does matter. And men are not idiots. And I’m not in the business of consoling men with flattering and/or comforting lies about my/their sexuality. (If you would, however, like those lies, see everywhere else in the universe for details.) Although, really, actually, I am not sure how - in the face of your hopeless flacidity - the news that it’s just fine because I wasn’t that fussed about getting fucked by you anyway, is really the biggest comfort.
What’s more, if you lose your erection at any time during sex with me I will think it is because you think I am not sexy. So never mind about me consoling you – you should be consoling me.

If you’re not hard I’m the one with the bruised ego. Fuck you - fix me.

I will be fucked off and in my bitterness may – for a time at least – be fucked off with you. However once we unite in our disappointment we can rage together at the heartless god we don’t believe in because we are, not, like, fucking idiots and curse Darwin that this fucking fucking system doesn’t come with some kind of manual override for fucks’s sake!

5. And finally (this is aimed at submissive men, all other men will be scratching their heads in justifiable confusion) if you don’t like your cock, if you have a whole bunch of hang up about it (perhaps you do now after reading this post) take them outside. Don’t think femdom is a great place for you to have weird sex that doesn’t involve your cock.
Just ‘cause prodoms act like sex/physical contact is some kind of fucking disease and even asking a woman for sex ever means you are some kind of retard (god, how *do* prodoms breed if they hate sex so much?), doesn’t mean dominant women are here to service your stupid fetishes and then let you go home and masturbate quietly in your own time.

If you want all the fun with none of the glorious hard work of beautiful manful bicep accentuating fucking…

(You wonder why the bicep is the man muscle? The show-me-your-muscles-*giggle* muscle? It’s because that’s the one that flexes and shines when you fuck.)

…But, yeah, if you don’t want to do that. That work. That *real* *work* – not calling yourself a maid and dribbling all over some boots. Well then, go to a pro. The luxury of not having to fuck her is what you are paying for.

That and her love of Mozart.

(One year earlier.)

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