It recently dawned on me that I don’t like girls. I like girls cumming.
Don't get me wrong, girls are awesome. I don't dislike them. They're all hot and stuff. And it's cute to see them laughing. But as smoking as you may be, every girl goes up a notch when she's cumming.
Whenever I'm on a date or something it's sort of like yeah, blah blah, you like the museum, you like shopping, you like poetry, blahbity blah. And I'm always rocking the sly smile, and thinking, yeah you might like those things .... but you ain't gonna be talkin' about none of that ish when you're cumming tonight. The only spoken words for this evening are: Oh. My. God.
It's the ultimate equalizer. If you can get them all flushed and winded and out of control and trembling and just ..... mmmmm. You feel like the Lebron James of labias who just went baseline and dunked on her dome, and you want to stand there and taunt, “Take that!! What say your years of feminist empowerment theory now, beeotch???”
Cause that's when it's most satisfying, with these haughty you-can't-do-nothing-for-me girls. Pffft.
Although young girls are nice also. Like under 30. I almost think young girls getting the business is something that demands federal regulation. It's like legal slavery. You break off a good one and you can go ahead and hook the plow up around her neck and have her till the fields or whatever. I got my 40 Acres and A Girl I made cum last night.
Of course this is a lot of tough talk and bravado, and I know there are a couple girls reading this thinking, naaaahhhh TAN, I know you, you ain't no Lebron James son. I've certainly had my fair share of depressing nights where I've had nothing to work with but two cold eyes staring at me while I jigger-jigger away, “um, yeah, your little wrap-around-and-diddling-my-doodle thing might have worked on that virgin, but I need less limp noodle and more beef in my Lo Mein, nah mean.” Or at least, that's what the asian chicks say.
Fact is, if you're an alcoholic and blessed with an Okey Dokey Pokey, some swings-and misses are inevitable.
But it doesn't change the point. Come to think of it, I don't think I'm friends with any girls who I've swung-and-missed with. Strictly enemies. No love. No emails. Just spit in my face if I happen to cross their path.
So again, it just goes to show, it's not about the girl, it's about her orgasm. The rest is all blahbity-blah.
I think that's all I have to say. Now .... bring on the weekend!!!