Good Girls Only Please

So I was listening to Lex and Terry on the radio the other day when they were giving advice to a dumb young dude who was going to marry a much older woman with a kid. They then got to talking about good girls versus sluts and the like, and how most men will never marry the girl the had the most amazing, naughty, unspeakable sex with, but will always marry the good girl. That explains a lot.

The more I got to thinking about it, the more pissed off I got. Not because I am the girl no guy would ever marry, after all, I bake cupcakes and pack lunches for my beloved and am not opposed to bringing new life forth based off of our undying love and all that bullshit. That, and the fact that I was married once, and have yet to decide on whether I would repeat those shenanigans. No, I was pissed off, because how stupid are men?

There are enough men who have readily admitted that they think with the brains that are located between their legs. If that is true, then would it not benefit them to marry the girl who so completely satisfies those brains on a daily basis? Instead, men are too embarrassed to admit their lack of emotional what-have-you, and marry the virgin, or the girl who might not necessarily be willing to give a blow job, just to be able to show her off to mom and say, “Isn’t she a perfect lady?” But really, where does this leave them?

I’ll tell you.

It leaves them overly horny and hunting about for a bad girl to satisfy their un-attended to needs. And when they find the girl that’s willing, it leaves their good girl home alone or hanging with her friends while the dude is out tying up the bad girl and doing her in  the butt before spraying his load all over her face because he would never dare to do that to his perfect wife. Sure, maybe some of these dudes don’t actually go cheat on their good wives, but those are the ones who develop carpal tunnel from jacking off in front of the computer while WATCHING some dude spurt his load all over some slutty girl’s face. So how does this a wonderful marriage create?

I admit that I do not know the sexual habits of all married couples, but there are quite a few married men that have had the balls to ask for favors from me in the past because they weren’t getting what they wanted at home. To them I said, “That’s YOUR fault, buddy. Maybe you shoulda married a bad girl.”

And really, why is a girl who is up for lots of sex considered at bad girl in the first place? And what if a girl likes sex, yet will still bake you cupcakes? Is she a good girl or a bad girl? Oh my God, I sound like I’m in Oz- “Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?”

And I completely realize that sex is not all that a relationship should be based on, but I certainly know what a lack of it can do to a marriage. I believe a good  marriage is a composed of two people who wish to grow old together, and who plan on doing it until the day one of them dies, with the help of blue pills and dentures, if necessary.

 

 

Things You May Only Be Able To Learn in South Dakota

There is something I may not have told you all. My Rockstar is from South Dakota.

What kind of Rockstar is from South Dakota, you ask? Well, mine, so shut up about it.

Although every time we end up going back to visit his home, I start thinking he’s a little bit more country than he is rock-n-roll.

For example, we spent a good 4 hours yesterday cruising around the cow paths near Millbank looking for his dad’s homestead. The fact that it took a copse of trees to identify is is indeed excessively hick. Oh, well.

We were delivering my Rockstar’s Daughter to her grandparents this past weekend, and we all spent the weekend at a state park that was actually a former residence of my Rockstar as a child. We were lucky enough to enjoy perfect weather all weekend, and there were a few things I learned this weekend that I may never have known if we hadn’t had our mini vacation.

1. Not all of South Dakota is a barren wasteland of disgusting flat earth.

The first trip we took together to South Dakota was disheartening, to say the least, becaust it was Thanksgiving weekend, and my Rockstar’s attempts to show me around were hampered by the fact that there was snow on the ground, and the weather was bleak, so when we took  ride out in the country, all you could see for miles was nothing at all. I informed my Rockstar at that time that there would be no moving to SD for me. I have since possibly changed my mind.

2. Permanent port-a-potties smell worse the more that people use them.

I have never seen a stationary port-a-potty in the first place, and was pleased to find that when we arrived at our campground, ours was mostly clean and free of Odour-de-poop. Sadly, as the weekend went on, and we had to share our toilet with other campers, the smell became utterly unbearable, and I found myself thinking that pooping in the trees and using poison oak to wipe would be preferable to entering our increasingly-full porti-pooper.

3. I can administer a successful blowjob between Big Stone City and Milbank.

One of the things my Rockstar and I have on and off discussed since almost the beginning of our relationship is the idea of blowjobs while driving. For some reason, he has always been against it, (probably since his legs twitch when he comes, and he does not wish to procure any speeding tickets.) However, when we were driving around Midwest, USA yesterday, the Horny Monster possessed him, and he hinted at  a blow job. Since I aim to please, (and blowjobs are my favorite) he didn’t have to ask twice. He was, though, hesitant because we were soon to be driving through a town. I poo-pood his worry and proceeded to give him an explosive Man Orgasm BEFORE we got to town, without spilling a drop. I think he will not again question my blow-job giving abilities.

4. A sweatshirt is beneficial to preventing lobster-itis.

You all may have noticed from the silly picture of myself that I bear pale vampire-like skin. This is not great for sitting in a boat on summer days. In fact, my shoulders are covered in numerous freckles due to past horrific sunburns. But I found out that when covered in a hoody sweatshirt, one does not suffer from the nasty effects of UV rays. What was surprising is the fact that normally I am pouring sweat when out in the sun, yet I was comfortably cool sitting in the blazing sun while donning my winter-ready hoody. I do, however, have a sunburnt nose.

5. My Rockstar is hilarious when faced with monster garter snakes.

We stopped by the cemetary on the way home to try to find my Rockstar’s uncle, and as we were ambling along through the many headstones, by Rockstar jumped about 4 feet in the air and cried, “Holy shit, it’s huge!” After realizing he was not, in fact, talking about his boner, (even though I’ve had almost that exact reaction from it) I noticed a rather large garter snake sunning himself next to old man Worthington’s grave. I squealed in delight and started to chase it, while my Rockstar booked it across the cemetary to get as far away from Snakey as he possibly could, shivering in disgust the whole time. His reaction put me in a fit of uncontrollable giggles that didn’t cease for a good five minutes.

6. I now understand the terms “dicky-do” and “booby- do”.

Have you ever noticed those men who sport excessive beer bellys that make them look like Santy Clause? Did you know the actual term for that is a dicky-do belly? Because their belly sticks out further than their dicky do. HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA! My Rockstar and I were trying to figure out the female term for this while we were sitting on the beach watching the whales. (And I don’t mean the ones in the water.) Booby-do oughtta do it, don’t you think?

7. E.L. James is the next Stephanie Meyer.

What does a bookwhore do while stranded in a boat? Read.

Oh, I fished a little, but I was trying to make my way through Fifty Shades of Gray, and I grew increasingly anger that once again, a book is getting far, far more publicity than it deserves. Grrr. Maybe I am just fucked up, but for as much controversy as these books are stirring up, the sex should have been alot more intense than it was. I’m just sayin’.

Anyhoo, I’m sure there were a few other things I learned, but I’m too busy thinking about snakes and moving blow-jobs to think of them.

Things I Never Thought I’d Say

I suppose I’ll start with the sexual ones. After all, would you expect anything less from me?

1. “I love giving blow jobs!”- Seriously, in younger years, the thought of sticking a man’s thingy in my mouth was quite horrifying, really. It has since become one of my favorite pasttimes. (My Rockstar is a lucky lucky man.)

2. “I swallow.” – Only on special occassions. Or when surprised.

3. “Spank me.”- Technically, this is not something I say (since I don’t talk dirty), but it IS something I enjoy. So if you ever meet me, feel free. That harder the better.

4. “I have anal beads.”- They were a “special gift” when I ordered my finger-tip vibrator. To be honest, I never understood the thrill. But I have them all the same.

5. “I’m sorry. I cannot, at this time, participate in a three-some.”- Sadly, it seems as soon as I am in a committed relationship, I get all these invites to do so. For the record, none of them would have included my Rockstar. If they had, I’d be busy right now.

As far as parenting goes:

6. “Because I said so!”- I HATED when my parents used this phrase as I was growing up, so I always try to give valid reasons for my having said so; however, I have come to realize that sometimes there’s just no arguing with a 9 year old.

7. “MY kid would never do that.”- Since my Rockstar’s Daughter isn’t mine, I find myself saying this quite frequently, actually.

8. “When I was a kid…” – I believe all the people in the world are convinced the parenting was better when they were a kid.

Sayings about money:

9. “I owe Victoria’s Secret $2800.” – Seriously. How was I to know it would get that bad?

10. “I owe $11,000 to credit cards and the I.R.S”- I actually just found this out last night when I actually added up all my bills. I now understand how Wesley Snipes ended up in the situation he was in.

11. “I make $8.50 an hour.”- Luckily, since getting fired from THAT job, I now bring in a shitload more of cash. Like $9.50.

12. “Yay! I found a quarter on the floor of my car right next to that french fry I dropped 6 months ago.”- The sad thing is, you think I’m joking. What I wouldn’t give for my own washer/dryer…

About life in general…

13. “I want you to use the clippers on my head.”- A few years ago, I went to the salon intent on getting a shaven faux hawk exactly like Rihanna’s. The girl convinced me NOT to allow clippers by saying, “You’re gonna look bald.” Incidentally, my haircut turned out fabulous, but I wouldn’t have minded looking bald. After all, I have a very nicely-shaped head. But I guess we’ll never know now, will we?!

14. “Fuck you.”- Given my religious background, and the fact that I wasn’t allowed to watch PG-13 movies growing up because of the language, it’s actually quite surprising this has ended up being my favorite angry phrase to utter. Although, when I think about it, it doesn’t really make any sense, because anyone I would say it to, I would most definitely NOT wish to fuck.

15.  “I LOVE Backstreet Boys!”- I fully admit that I woulda thunk it, but to actually say it aloud is a different story. Yes, I got crap for saying it in front of people too.

16. “I have nothing to wear.”- What a typical woman-type thing to say. I will make it unique by adding, “except shoes.”

Cum and Play

HR, you asked for it.

It has come to my attention that I have never exactly written about exactly how… sexually explicit I can be.

I find it highly entertaining to write dirty. (Because I do not at all find it entertaining to talk dirty.)

So, I have decided to give you all an idea of just exactly what I would do to get a man “in the mood.”

(Generally, taking off my shirt is all it takes, but that would be a pretty short post now, wouldn’t it?)

I would lift the man’s shirt off and run my fingers very lightly up his sides while running my tongue and then my teeth over his nipples.

I would then unbutton his pants, (elastic wasted shorts are actually best for this) and slide them down.

I’d slip his dick into my mouth and suck a little bit, moving it around with my tongue. Then run my tongue up and around the head, flicking my tongue as I do so. (I’ve been told this tickles- in a good way.)

While I’m sucking and licking and such, I’d run my other hand down to cup his balls, and lightly squeeze them before going down further and slipping them into my mouth.

By this time, I’d probably be pretty wet, so I’d start humping his leg -if he was sitting or lying down. (How very dog-like of me)

Now would be about the time I’d slip my shirt off to free up the boobies for some good titty fucking. Having triple DDD’s is very handy for this.

(Let us just assume that this lucky man hasn’t blown his load yet.) Then I’d slide up and situate myself on his lap…

I guess that’s enough for now. 😉 XOXO