Wake Up and Make Love to Me

I should have learned more at the feet of the master.

A housemate from my youth had the whole thing wired. He had carefully figured strategy, kept mental catalogues of tactics, and knew how to close. Never, men, underestimate the power of a good close. This guy had so woven the chasing and conquest of women into his life that a trip to the post office was, for him, as ripe with opportunity as a Friday night at our local meat-market.

It's important to note that he created his...what shall we call it?...art, around who he was. Artifice and posturing were kept to a minimum so that at times of stress, he didn't need to remember what to say. Everything flowed naturally from his personality.

Mind you, the smooth and successful end result required a lot of practice and discipline. Repetition and habit, he always said, were the key. Just do the same stuff over and over, so that when the babe for whom that shit works finds herself standing next to you, she is powerless.

One morning, I was having coffee when one of his ladies rushed downstairs and out the front door.

Morning Wombat!

Morning Kimbo!

She wore a big grin.

Later I asked my buddy why they were all so chipper when they left.

"Oh, that's easy," he replied. "From the very first night they stay, I insist on having a morning meeting with them."

You mean you boff them in the morning?

"Right. But I make a game of it, with a little role-play. They play minute-taker for the meeting, and I'm the chair." 

 He smirked.

I must have looked quizzical. He looked disappointed in me.

"The key is that she has to take the 'minutes' on the bed. That naturally puts her butt in the air. We avoid the whole morning breath thing, we don't have to look at each other after a big night, and she gets to call it her morning meeting rather than dawnbuster or some such."

"Once is enough. Then they're hooked. They often wake me up and say it's time for their morning meeting." 

"Plus, if they're late to work, they can simply say Sorry, there was a morning meeting I had to take."









 Bottoms Up, Stenographers.

The First Sex

FIAT hottie photo credit.

I didn't quite find my point with this post; Stop/Start. How about a fresh start - from the beginning maestro.

Tap tap.

When the time comes for the the first shag, it's best to keep everything pretty simple. In my experience, that is. You horny sexual gymnast kink-monsters with libidos like mountain ranges and parts that never stop can get away with anything. This is your regular, slightly mystified male talking here.

Notwithstanding any prior conversations or imaginings, there is no way to know what she's like when the carnal beast within is released.

:-> She might say she gives the best head in the world, but what's the standard by which we measure that?

:-> Quite possibly she's open to anything you might ask, but how smart is it to ask for sex over a barstool on the very first shot?

:-> She talks a big game about wanting it all the time - alright, let's get a hotel room for a week and check it out.

No. The wise man who is about to dip his wick for the first time shows control by reigning in his outlier predelictions. He captures the black swan and discreetly deposits it in the henhouse for a while. One step at a time, Junior Wombat. The Bonk Bus is best enjoyed as a long ride up the mountain, not a scamper to the top and a BASE jump.


Bottoms Up, Gradual Learners.

Stop/Start

Barbara Bach from Celebs101

Your experience is different, I am certain, but let me tell you about mine. Far from the seamless process presented by porn - and, often, Hollywood - it's messy getting from here to orgasm with a chick. Disjointed. Stop and start, if you like. More like being in Friday night traffic than anything else, sometimes speeding along, sometimes going nowhere.

For a bloke raised on images of Roger Moore as James Bond, ideal sex consists mostly of glib bon mots, double entendres and beautiful women just waiting to be bonked. These women aren't simply willing partners; they're often mute, mostly dressed in haute couture and there TO be fucked.

Movieland seduction is about being the leading man in the presence of a woman. Then it happens. Okay, there's a lull in the action and PHHHwaaarRRRRR, here comes Barbara Bach.

THEN they shag.

From this, it's no wonder we get Austin Powers. The premise is laughable.



Bottoms Up, Bondistas.

Harry Wanted to Boff Sally

The chic and desirable Doc30ty did us all a favour. She started her Blogger Santa Christmas in August idea whereupon participating bloggers are given three anonymously sourced questions to do with as they choose. Herewith my Q's and A's.

1. In When Harry Met Sally, he says that men and women can't be friends because the sex thing always gets in the way, do you believe this statement to be true?

Yes, the statement is true. And it's false. Shall I explain? Okay.

Consider two people, a man and a woman, sitting at a table in a restaurant, much like Harry and Sally did in the movie. They might be friends, or they might not, but they have things in common, can converse, share some energy. There is no sex involved, yet.

The potential for sex is what gets in the way of this relationship staying as a friendship or developing into a friendship. If either one of them thinks about and cannot act upon the other sexually for more than 1% (plus or minus, YMMV) of the time, then sex gets in the way.

The alternative is that they are mutually attracted and go on to have sex. Regularly. Presuming they have all the other prerequisites for a friendship in place, the sex probably won't get in the way, and the relationship takes its course. I submit that's what many of us would consider the best kind of relationship - friendship with someone we love and have sex with.

In short: If significant sexual desire is kept in the head, it will eventually get in the way of a friendship. Openness about one's desire (at an appropriate point) will go a long way to shrinking it back down below the 1% threshold, or towards getting laid. Either/or.

So I hope you see my point. It's not the sex that gets in the way, it's the potential for sex. Unrequited longings doom m/f friendships.

2. If you could re-run your life again, what is the one thing that you would do differently?

I should have stopped and married the girl I know now I should have stopped and married. She wasn't perfect, but she was the right one. And had I asked, I think she would have. Dammit. What a fool.

3. If you could offer me one bit of advice to get through life, what would it be?

Gain wisdom beyond your years, maintain energy from your early years, and never, ever take yourself seriously. There are enough of us out here to fulfil the 'taking yourself seriously' quota for centuries to come - no need to pile on.

For myself, I can tell you that the greatest gift has been understanding the architecture of optimism. Fear of the future and regret for the past will kill you as surely as a knife to the heart. But if you believe in a future positive the past immediately begins to load up with contentment, and tomorrow doesn't look so bad.



Bottoms Up, Optimists!



Pic from the Twin Cities Daily Photo. I want to go to MSP now. [link]