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Over the years I have been asked, occasionally coerced, to
perform various tasks, deeds of valor or otherwise, Some I have elected to
fulfill, others not, for reasons ranging from personal preference to
circumstantial inability. Never though have I been asked, up until this week at
least, to fuck someone verbally. That isn't to say I can't or even necessarily
that I don't wish to – it is simply a dynamically unusual request.
Now when it comes to fucking people, one has to look at the deed firstly in its
most basic and in actuality, rather comical form. Typically, one can expect to
find one (at least) rampant male, hormones in free-flow having cornered, subdued
or in the worst-case scenario – paid for a women, in whatever circumstances
have drawn the two together. Having most usually removed her clothing, or if
patently desperate, simply her panties, he then pinions her to the floor, bed,
wall, rear car seat or chandelier and inserts, with varying degrees of
indignity, his vastly over-rated penis into that natty little lipped sac between
her legs. Grunting, jerking, slobbering – more often than not all three, he
will then rut away with completely uninhibited delight seeking to reach a
chemical plateau at which point his DNA-soaked sperm jam up and jelly tight
before crossing that bridge at a brisk pace, to the woman's ovulation-freeway.
It is this transitional period, the male finds vastly to his liking.
During the "fucking phase" men are not known for their literate
dialog. How many other ways after all, can one express the notion "Oh yeah
hun," "Take it deep babe," or "Ride my dick slut,"
without resorting to laughable clinicisms such as, "I say Julie, would you
mind awfully if I shoved my rather engorged penis way up inside your devilishly
hot vagina for just a few minutes?"
So immediately you can see we're talking here a whole new creative ball-game.
When a girl says to you "Fuck me verbally please," she is wanting
"communicative purpose," "depth of shared emotion,"
"experiential guidance," at the very least, some innovative and
passionate appreciation of her femininity.
So too is she entitled to that.
Sex via the written word.
The quintesential chat-room opening "What color panties you wearing
luv?" might be seen as an example of this. In fact, all this ever achieves
is to confirm the moronic status of the male participant. Think about it! Its
hardly going to turn the girl on is it? – she already knows what color
knickers she has on. It's like most every other aspect of male sexual behavior
– geared principally to the achieving of his own gratuitous satisfaction.
Egotistical endplay in other words.
With regards therefore to the young lady who made the rather poignant plea for
me to "fuck her verbally," this is the very least I can do. Now whilst
this is in the way of a personal reply and I composed this for her specifically
because of the wonderful person she is, I'm sure she will not mind if I add the
comment that what I write has relevance to every other girl on the planet,
uniquely desirable as every one is in their own way. No two ways about that. If
it were possible, I would be there with all of you and I would love you all
equally. If when you have read this and hopefully having followed my
(deliberately) obscurely referenced byplays at various intervals, you then close
your eyes, you will realise that in fact I am with you. I always was!
How exquisite you are! Have you ever really looked and
realised the privilege it has been to be born female? Tonight, I will make you
more aware of this fact than ever you have been. I will bring you to to the
gates of your own temple.
How did we arrive at this confluence in our lives? It doesn't really matter does
it? Merely that I am here and that I want to share a gift with you that so few
understand, let alone respect.
Ahead of anything, I want you simply to be aware of your body as you read. Feel
how snug your beautiful breasts are cupped in that little bra. If you
concentrate enough you will be able to feel your nipples, even as you breathe.
Besides their naturally intended use, they utterly define your femininity. If
you feel like caressing them, please do. Imagine soft lips, whether your
child's, mine or a future lover's, drawing down softly in what is ultimately,
merely a quest for comfort. A flared memory recalled fleetingly. The protective
instinct and cradled safety of a mother's arms down through the ages.
Even at this early stage, the slightest of physiological changes are taking
place in your body.
