Come like no one’s watching.

Bwah ha ha… “Stop performing. Stop acting. You’re no actress. You work in Accounts Payable.”

Via Very Smart Brothas: Ask Agatha: I Can’t Orgasm During Sex. What Should I Do?
Capture

This is madness, but…dicks…

OkCupid disabled the feature where you can see who’s viewed your profile.

At first I was pissed, because hey, dude looks at me, I go look at dude (or vice versa), maybe we start a conversation.

But now I have to just, like… TALK to them if I want them to see me?! Fuck that, that’s madness.

HOWEVER. For the dudes who have photos of their fine-ass half-dressed bodies as profile pics, now I can check out their junk and not have to worry about them messaging me all, “Hey, I noticed you checked out my junk.”

So… There’s that. Junk ahoy, y’all!

I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggonnit…

Texting a friend about therapy:

Me: “We ended up talking about why I don’t consider myself ‘beautiful.’ She showed me a fucking Dove commercial. I’m never going back. (Kidding.)”

Friend: “No one should be forced to watch a Dove commercial.”

And by the way? I don’t consider myself beautiful, and I don’t see a problem with that, so fuck right off, Dove. But I am a middle-age American woman who mostly thinks I’m cute, sometimes pretty, so I do think I’m a goddamn miracle.

Besides, “beautiful” doesn’t even crack the top 100 on my list of issues. When I think about my last pseudo-breakup, my appearance isn’t what keeps my brain spiraling. He once got hard while we were taking a walk because I made a JOKE about wearing high heels during sex — it’s easy enough to believe he found me attractive. So can we focus on this weird haze I get into where I think I’m not smart or interesting enough to keep a dude around AFTER we have sex, even as a friend? That seems to be the dominating self-esteem weirdness here.

Always happy to avoid conversation

On Thursday, the guy I’d been dating texted to ask if I had time to hang out this weekend. I said I did, but we didn’t make actual plans, and I haven’t heard from him yet.

So I think he was right in saying “we want different things.” I want to be ACTUAL friends with benefits, not the “beck and call girl” of a dude who forgets about me until his dick gets bored.

At least this means we don’t have to get together to discuss the terms of our fuck-buddy-ship — we’re Facebook friends and that’s it. No travel, no feelings, no shaving!

I’m not actually too hurt by this. It’s nice to be sure of something I’d mostly already decided.

Ain’t no slut shame in my game. 

I never recapped the first date with New Guy last weekend, but it ended with a pleasant goodbye kiss and plans for a second date, which happened yesterday.

So.

I was actually happy when my period started a few days prior, because then when I went to his house to watch movies, we both knew second-date sex wasn’t an option. No need to worry about things moving too fast, or for me to get bonus therapy beforehand for being all “Insane in my Slut Shame” — it just ain’t happ’nin’.

Um, yeah… Turns out my period doesn’t stop me from stripping down to just panties and then blowing him.

Whoops.

But also, godDAMN, I’d missed doing that. (He seemed pretty happy about it, too.)

And at least so far, no shame to speak of. I like him. I think we’d be friends if we weren’t dating. Even if it ends up just being casual or short-term or whatever, I already know I didn’t blow a boring idiot. So…you know…progress.

P.S. He said he owes me oral once my body isn’t made of betrayal, so if you hear about a woman exploding with years of pent-up tension in South Philly this weekend, it’s been fun knowing y’all.

P.P.S. He also called my body “fucking hot,” even though I suddenly have 10-15 extra pounds on me that I’m working on getting rid of. Pay attention, gentlemen — that’s the kinda game that gets your dick wet.

Prematurely ejaculating my anxiety.

I met a guy last weekend, and IN MY HEAD, we’ve already been dating (and sleeping together — frequently) for a week.

So…I guess I should probably, like…SAY something to him ever.

He’s a friend of a friend. I’ve ascertained that he’s single and straight. And when I asked, my friend said she’d been hoping I would because she “thought it’d be a good match.” 

Now I just need to figure out what the hell is going on in MY head to make sure I don’t end up being totally weird to a friend of a friend…again. Last time this happened, I slept with the dude way too soon, then realized we had nothing in common and ended up pulling The Fadeaway on him.

I’ve spent so much time “not being ready” that I don’t know if I AM ready, or if it’s just my vagina that’s ready, all, “SINGLE DICK AHOY!”

*deep breath*

SO. My next therapy appointment isn’t until NEXT week, eh? Mm’kay. That…that’s fine…

Too well-hung for me to hang

OkCupid shows you who’s looked at your profile. A 24-year-old dude just looked at mine, and his profile photo is of his hand holding his naked, sizable, penis. 

Not really sure what it says about me that I’m less offended by unsolicited naked dick than I am by the dirt under his fingernails or the mess in the room behind him.

I alternate thinking he’s ruined a delightful discovery the first time I unzip his pants and unfurl this thing, vs. really appreciating the advance notice about a cock that might actually break me in half.

“Too big! Your dick doesn’t end! Why doesn’t your dick end?”