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Posts Tagged ‘jewish penis’

It’s funny, meeting someone in person whom you have been virtual friends with for over a year. Nearly 13 months of sexual tension and in person, we are comfortable pals, yet beyond that, perhaps not much else. Internet Skype boy was having a weekend of bad reactions to some new migraine meds which ironically were causing low drive issues. The irony does not sneak past me here. I wanted a weekend of unbridled carefree fucking after 11 months of loving someone who had low sex drive issues and low interest issues. Nonetheless, we did have sex on Friday night, but the first time you fuck anyone is odd, grooves not found, rhythms not synced, and so I extended my trip one more night, to see whether things could line up more.

In between my first and last night… Parisian Macarons from BisousCiao. in flavors like Sour Cherry, Champagne Cocktails from Bubble Lounge and strolls through the Bowery. Apple Cider from The Union Square Greenmarket, naps on $7,000 couches at The Conran Shop, viewings of Time Bandits, and jokes about how I have lost my NYC street cred after ten years away.

So, how was the sex, second go around? It’s different. It’s not Type Geek. I was detached, yet forced to be present because of the sensation of fucking someone much larger than your previous partner. We fucked, it was fine. It was the punctuation, the ending to my one-sided relationship with a man I loved who couldn’t give anything except the occasional dinner, concert or overnight snuggle. Until there was sex with someone else, there was always just going to be Type Geek in my rearview mirror. After Skype boy and I fucked, after he washed up and went to bed, I laid there. The only night I was unable to relax and sleep. I missed Type Geek, even the small amount that I had him, the small amount that snuck through without him seeing it cozy up to me. I couldn’t help but wonder, has he thought of me at all since he saw me last. Did he ever miss me or was I unable to imprint myself even that much on him. I know it isn’t a reflection on me, it is merely a reflection on him and his bigger deeper issues, but nonetheless, I feel the loss and miss the him that I knew in those dark quiet hours between dusk and dawn.

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There is this great website called Overheard Everywhere , which has some of the most brilliant overheard comments of all time posted by the individuals whose ears were lucky enough to be close at the time. This is one of my favorites,  “Hipster girl: He eats pork, but he won’t eat pussy. He’s a really bad Jew.” If I had overheard that, I would have spit out whatever beverage or food I was consuming at that moment in an abrupt burst of hysterical laughter. We all know my love of the Jew. The Jewish cock is a thing of wonder and beauty. Although, I must say, a lot can be said about an uncut cock as well. Before I met Type Geek, I had zero experience with an uncut penis. I hadn’t ever seen one in person, only photos. My limited experience with cock from my teens and early twenties presented the average “normal” penis to me, nothing exciting. Certainly no Jews and no uncut boys.

Regardless of all of that, I do have one issue with the comment. How can you NOT eat pussy if you fuck it? Really?! For some of us ladies, that is the ONLY way we really get off. That is one issue with lesbians that never occurred. Lesbians love to eat pussy. I think there is an unwritten law in the Society of Lesbians book of by-laws that states, “she who eat not of pussy, not get own pussy eaten in return.”  Alright, maybe it was Confucius or Buddha. Maybe it was just the first lesbian I met at 17 who wanted to fuck me so badly, she checked out the Lesbian Joy of Sex from her college library and offered to lend it to me. She was stocky, with a mohawk, furry legs, ripped fishnets and combat boots AND a die-hard anti-male feminist. Now, I know that NOT all feminists are anti-male. SHE just happened to be. She was also a writer, a bad one, and wrote scathing tales of those that crossed her path. She never changed their names because, as she said, “no names have been changed, because no one is innocent.” Needless to say, she was intense in all the WRONG ways and no, I never had sex with her. There is probably a story out there somewhere about it.

 

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An update on the day… Sunday July 10, 2010.

Spain wins first World Cup EVER!

Cooper Fiennes sobs from joy, then sadness. Being in the United States, so far from friends, family and countrymen was amplified post win. Then, once the floodgates opened, it was apparent that he was also crying over the loss of his marriage and all of the change in his life. I believe he is lonely, in a way that friends aren’t able to reach into and fill at the moment. It was immensely endearing to se him so vulnerable. All I wanted to do was hold him, but we were at his colleague’s house. The woman whom the strange dynamic exists.

A question in my mind, since I had heard that Spanish men weren’t particularly blessed in physical endowment, however he is, was answered. It was a sideline conversation and when Cooper Fiennes mentioned that his great-grandmother was Sephardic Jew… it clicked. Once again, Hung Like a Jew is true. Of course, the hottie with the beautiful cock turns out to have some Jewish running through the most important veins of his body. I should have known that there was a reasonable explanation for it, besides meer blessed fluke.

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My ex broke up with her girlfriend…AGAIN. Hopefully it sticks this time. The relationship is volatile and dangerous. If everything that has happened now, isn’t sufficient reason to leave, it will take one of them in the hospital and/or jail in order to finally end this relationship. So, she called me after picking up her things from the other woman’s apartment and was headed home when I suggested that I buy her and her mother lunch, someplace cheap, so that they could just decompress and potentially have a few laughs, rather than wallowing in a bad place. She agreed.

We met halfway between where I was with my dog and a client and the, now, ex-girlfriend’s apartment. A Panera Bread cafe. They have this apple chicken salad I LOVE. Her mom had a ham and swiss on rye and my ex, she had the tomato soup…and picked at it, as she picks at all her food. We were sitting there listening to her dissect, again and again, this girlfriend and the actions that led up to this moment. It’s exhausting after a while. All you can do is be supportive, but sometimes, that is difficult when they can’t be supportive of themselves. It feels like a losing battle.

I realized as we sat there that there was a sex shop around the corner. Hmm, I need condoms. I have the Kimono Large because the guy I was hoping to be with when I bought them was jewish and a bit girthy than average. Type Geek is not jewish so the large would be wrong. After we finished our lunch, my ex and I wandered over while her mom sat in her car. Her mom was a little embarrassed. We walked in and she went off and pouted, looking around and thinking of her now ex. I stood staring at the condoms. So foreign to me after 12 years with women. I had hoped to get some regulars but they didn’t have the extra thin regular Kimonos. Hmmpf. I ended up picking up a couple Skyns and some Avanti Bares. The Polyisophrene material is supposedly far superior to latex in terms of heat transfer and feeling, both for the wearer and the receiver. We shall see. I also picked up some Sliquid lube, as I was told the Skyns can sometimes dry out quickly without additional assistance. Not good and good to know!

Perhaps I will get a chance to try them out on Saturday evening AND Sunday morning. One never does know what the world shall bring. Type Geek and I have that date with the dog and an outdoor music festival on Saturday afternoon. Sun and grass can be quite good for the libido, especially if I figure out how to wear something that isn’t suggestive but is. Hmm, demure sundress sans panties? All I know is this… I have been thinking of having sex on Type Geek’s kitchen table for days. Why? I am not sure, but surely, this would be quite fun. That is a small goal for this coming weekend.

The rest of the week is shaping up to be post worthy. Cooper Fiennes and I are grabbing a cocktail and a trip to the cinema tonight, and Brooklyn wants a dog free lunch meet up on Thursday. How will this be? I haven’t seen him in over a month I think. I have been able to subdue my feelings for him, compartmentalized them in a way that is safe and allows me to exist without constant thoughts. I miss him, yes. I miss that connection. I can’t continue as we have been however, I can’t continue being disregarded. I’m not sure what is going to come out in our conversation over lunch, if we make it to lunch. I might find him too frustrating to be around and just walk away. Perhaps, this is what needs to happen.

Sweet, sweet “hump day”, the week is at mid-point, but there are still so many stories that need to be told, adventures to go on, life to be lived, before the week cycles into the next. I can’t sleep with the Spaniard. Not yet. That would be too many men in 7 days. I do want some kisses against a wall and in the rain though. How hot would that be? Mmmm, yeah. Super hot.

So, what are your experiences out there with all the different types of condoms? Informal survey… comment with your most favorites, least favorites, what ones broke (the horror), what ones made you thing a steel drum around your cock would have given more sensation?! Inquiring minds, we want to know!

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I was perusing around http://www.engrish.com today and found this hysterical shirt, which basically sums up my feelings towards men and my newly adventurous sexuality in just one sentence. Thank you Engrish for making me laugh my ass off.

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Sometimes it really comes down to either/or. At least lately it seems to. Since I have found my sex drive, which apparently was hiding partially under the shoe of a foreigner (yes, you) and partly in the couch cushions belonging to my friend who owns the jewish penis, I have also found my hormones or more to the point, they have found me. I am suddenly a neurotic insecure over thinking emotional freak flag waving crazy woman on my period. Who is this woman? For the last 23 years I have had my period without much incident other than annoyance and bitterness. Now, I require lock up for several days so I can’t say anything I will regret. For someone who likes to live life without regret, my period is making it impossible.

The tally today is… number of time I wanted to touch myself – 5, number of times I cried during random bits of random songs -6. Neurotic and weepy wins the race over horny. Excellent, not really.

I am currently feeling both immensely humbled and regretful for stupid actions, as well as, insecure and wanting to hide under a rock because no one but fellow freaks will ever want me. Anyone have any sedatives to get me through the next few days?

No dates set up for the week yet, probably a good thing, considering my current mental instability.

 P.S. I have no idea who is in this photo. It was an awesome uncredited image online. If anyone knows, please, have them contact me so I can credit them. This is the best of the worst Halloween costumes ever (or worst of the best…you know what I mean!)

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