so there are these people.

who think that they have shit figured out. and by shit i mean life. everything.

now... most of us come upon people throughout our lives who we find to be on a different playing field then we are- be it in regards to goals, priorities or beliefs... but a certain few decide very early on that no one is at their level except the great thinkers and misunderstood minds of history.

i made the mistake in trying to make out with one of those people.

i know what you're thinking... this doesn't seem like it would be an issue for most people. but, well... most people don't make out the way i do.

i make out with my mind. i am most sexually aroused when my brain is stimulated along with my phermones. if you put me into a one-on-one situation with a guy there really is only one thing that determines my level of lust for him.

his cock size. no... wait. that's not right.

it's how he talks with me. what he talks about. how he expresses himself. what he gets excited about. what he chooses to share with me. vulnerability is like pimp juice to me.

and damnit if these people (mentioned above) can't talk a good game. they actually DO philosophize. wonder about the meaning of it all. and dear momma does that turn me on.

but see... intertwined with all of their talk... they let little pieces of shit slide out of their mouth. demeaning comments. especially if i voice a difference of opinion or play devil's advocate.

my perfect kiss is one in between sentences spoken to and heard from my partner. i want the heat of our conversation to be so intense that the only way to truly experience it is by getting our bodies involved.

i ache for words. pine for them. way more than any hot piece of ass.

but not just any words, you see. i listen. i listen closely. and i remember everything that strikes me as valuable. granted, i am biased in what i consider "of value," but fuck me- it's my brain i can be choosy.

so i hear all of the little filler lines. i read in between them too. don't make generalities around me and expect me not to relate them to myself. don't contradict yourself repeatedly and expect me not to call you on it. and for the love of god if you can't handle me teasing you verbally as well as physically then don't make it so unbearably easy.

i'm finding that more and more men don't want a challenge. they don't want a woman who's mere presence demands acknowledgement and respect.

they want someone to stroke their shaft, tickle their balls and blow up their egos. they want someone who wants to get intimate they way THEY want to get intimate and not any other way.

if i have one more guy tell me that their asshole is an "exit-only" in the same evening that they pull out the astro-glide i'm seriously going to queef in his face.

my point is this. if you actually think that i would sit there with you listening to you ramble on and on as such only to then brush it all off with an "i don't care" "you don't even get what i'm saying" and a "see that's why i don't like to talk about this shit. it just creates drama." and then think that i'll be ok just laying with you running my fingers over your chest, thanking the heavens that i found such a wonderful man...

YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMIN.

and when i get up, grab my bra and put on my sneakers... don't fucking ask me if i'm ok and expect to get anything other than a flat and monotone "no."

i know walking out without explanation was rude. i might have even fucked up our friendship. but really, now that i think about it... you don't really care... so i should stop. immediately.



...if only it were that easy.