There is an urban myth, that somewhere in the wilderness that is sex, there is a man who is God’s gift to women. That this bloke is so good in the sack, to sleep with him is to experience sexual nirvana; nothing and no man can compete with his talents. His absolute devotion to pleasuring a lady is his only
want; his own sexual release is secondary to her
delight. And because this man has such amazing fuck-skills, a woman should only have him just the once, before passing him on to the next woman – so that they in turn can experience the orgasmic pleasure that this man can provide.
Let me tell you: this man is no myth. In fact, there isn’t just one of these blokes – I personally have met a handful of them, and they all have two things in common:
- They are amazing in bed
- They are not interested in having more than a shag
It’s the natural flip-side to the coin: the zenith of fucking, versus the nadir of relationships – it’s an even balance in the scale of life, I think. That’s not to say that spending time with these men is bad – far from it – but when a woman does, she has to be aware of the limitations of such a bloke: he is not meant to be with one woman; he has no taste for commitment.
Rather, he is supposed to be fucked, hard, with passion, and with guaranteed plentiful orgasms, and when done, he should be passed on to the next woman, so that she in turn, will know what amazing sex feels like. Call it sisterly solidarity.
It appears that I’m not the only one who’s met such a man. Heather at Girlspoke
puts it rather eloquently:
“Dear Mr. God's gift to my poontang: How can you possibly take on a girlfriend? You are gifted. God blessed you and call me a communist, but you should be perpetually single for the good of all womankind.”
She continues, sadder in the realisation that such spectacular sex is only ever transitory:
“Good dick: I miss you. Why do you have to be attached to a man with whom there was never any chance of things working out in the first place? Bollocks. My vagina wishes it never met you.”
This is the problem with fucking such a man: we crave his skills again; we long for his hour-long devotion to cunnilingus; the way he prays religiously at the temple of our punany. On those long, dark nights where we need a soft kiss on our lips and a delectable multi-functional cock inside us, we want him back. But we can’t; we’re not meant to – he is for others to experience. That is the way it should be; that is the law of nature.
So any sisters sitting on such a bloke right this minute, please do pass him on when you’re done: somewhere in the world there’s a woman due a damn good orgasm, and it’s only fair that we all get a go with him...