Pussy Talking Kryptonite
There hasn’t been too much sex in the Second City for me lately. On Friday—after having one of my busiest weeks in the New Year (lots of projects at work, blogging, family & friend issues, and starting a new work-out regimen)—I was pooped out and horny as hell.
I made a few telephone calls to help relieve the situation and I couldn’t get in touch with anyone. FRIEND (see who's who) was working Friday—he and I were together earlier in the week, but I preferred his hands massaging my sore upper back and shoulders to having sex—so he couldn’t come over. JAMES was acting distant (see side bar or this post). And I wasn’t ready to baby sit CHRIS (see side bar or this post).
So I got my desperate ass on the telephone chat line and tried to find a hook up there. Things seemed promising. I was late afternoon, 3:30PM, which meant I wouldn’t have to deal with the late night knuckleheads who get on the line and play. And people (including myself) were more likely to travel since it wasn’t too late. What seemed so promising turned out to be utter failure.
Tonight turned out to be the night of the senior citizen. I only spoke to two guys who seriously tried to connect with me that evening—and they were both over 50 years old.
GASP
Yeah I said over 50. Old guys: the gay man’s kryptonite. The first guy’s name was TRADE. He’s a 50 year old black guy, with a bald head, and he says he has an extremely muscular body. He hit me up telling me how much he liked my message, but warned me that while he had a body that was out of this world, he was a 50 year old man. I understood his warning. All too often you hear guys on the Internet and the chat lines screaming stuff like, “No fats, no fems, no old people.” Or, “Nobody over 35.” Or “You old ass niggas don’t hit me up.” I can appreciate if you are not into having sex with older men—but the level of disrespect that I see for guys in their 40s and up is amazing. It’s almost a hatred that gay folks have for older gentlemen (who really aren’t that old). It kinda depresses me.
But what those guys throw away, I scoop up. I will fuck an older brotha in a minute—and actually have had some great sex with guys in their 40s and 50s who not only looked better and were in better shape than many twenty or thirtysomething guys I had met—but whose sex was better and more fulfilling.
I never found out about TRADE’s sex. He was too busy talking. We started conversing around 4PM and didn’t stop talking to about 6PM. I was worn out. At first the conversation was very sexual—but the more he talked to me, the more he started talking about work, and life, and blah, bo peep, bah, bookie, black sheep, and I had to tune him out because he was getting on my fucking nerves. Have you ever met someone who is obsessed with hearing his voice? TRADE, a self proclaimed philosopher and intellectual, is one of those guys—but with attention deficit disorder. For example, I asked him what he was getting into this weekend (trying to hint that we should get together).
I was annoyed. I replied,
I said a few more lines about Bush, and then transitioned back to my original question, So what are you doing this weekend?
I finally had to say enough. I told him that my head was hurting and that I had to go. He gave me his number and told me to call him. I took it and told him that I would. Why would I call him after such an awful conversation? See my post on the treasure troll theory. Before he hung up he said, “I have to say one thing, you are a great listener.” I rolled my eyes.
When I got out of chat conference with TRADE, another 50 year old guy, named P.T. hit me up. He told me that he worked out 3 to 4 days a week, “but I am 50 years old”. I was thinking to myself, where were all of these buffed out 50 year olds coming from? I hit him up and he sounded really nice and extremely horny. He said that he loved to kiss and that he was up for anything safe. I told him that I was up for anything, but I wasn’t sure if I would be into the kissing thing. So he decided to come right over. He said that he was about 5’10 and 180 pounds. I was pretty excited to meet him.
He came over and I met P.T. at the door. He looked alright—like a middle aged man. He wasn’t particularly attractive, but he wasn’t ugly either. He had on the whitest kicks I’ve seen on a brotha and an athletic suit—very sporty and clean. I brought him in the apartment and we chatted for a second and relaxed each other. I got him to take his shirt off, and I realized why he wore the layered gym suit. He was fat. I looked desperately around his body for signs that he went to the gym 3-4 times a week. I found nothing.
Disappointment set in. And I decided immediately that I wasn’t going to have sex with him. He told me that he loved having his nipples played with—so I focused on them the entire evening. But he kept grabbing my ass, and trying to kiss me in the mouth.
He kept trying until finally I felt his tongue on my lips. I tried not to be rude and resisted the urge to whip my face away—instead I just moved slowly. But then he tried again. And I had to stop and tell him, “I told you I am not into kissing, so you need to stop trying to plant kisses on my face.” He responded, “I’m sorry, its just that your lips are so nice, just the kind of lips I like, and I want to feel my lips against them.” I told him, “I understand that, but don’t try to kiss me again.”
He didn’t try. That. But he tried for my ass. He kept grabbing my ass and squeezing it. Even though I had no intentions on letting him in, I thought it was hot that he kept touching it. I just kept playing with his nipples while he had one hand on his dick and another on my ass. And then he looked at me and said, “When are you going to let me get some of this pussy?”
Pussy. I got a little agitated hearing this. I said,
I was ready for him to leave. He shortly blew his load after I started talking really nasty to him. But I still couldn’t get the whole PUSSY TALK out of my mind. P.T. wasn’t the first guy to have called my ass a pussy before. I have stopped sex before because a guy either called his or my ass a pussy. The pussy centered names that guys give the ass really turn me off: PUSSY, BOY PUSSY, MANGINA, BOOGINA. Why do some guys call it that? Think about it—if you are having sex with a man, you obviously—at least at that moment—don’t want pussy, because otherwise you’d be with a girl. Yet, these guys want to attribute this female body part (that they don’t want at the time) to the man that they are with.
I understand, different strokes for different folks—but when you get with me, leave the pussy talk at the door.
I made a few telephone calls to help relieve the situation and I couldn’t get in touch with anyone. FRIEND (see who's who) was working Friday—he and I were together earlier in the week, but I preferred his hands massaging my sore upper back and shoulders to having sex—so he couldn’t come over. JAMES was acting distant (see side bar or this post). And I wasn’t ready to baby sit CHRIS (see side bar or this post).
So I got my desperate ass on the telephone chat line and tried to find a hook up there. Things seemed promising. I was late afternoon, 3:30PM, which meant I wouldn’t have to deal with the late night knuckleheads who get on the line and play. And people (including myself) were more likely to travel since it wasn’t too late. What seemed so promising turned out to be utter failure.
Tonight turned out to be the night of the senior citizen. I only spoke to two guys who seriously tried to connect with me that evening—and they were both over 50 years old.
GASP
Yeah I said over 50. Old guys: the gay man’s kryptonite. The first guy’s name was TRADE. He’s a 50 year old black guy, with a bald head, and he says he has an extremely muscular body. He hit me up telling me how much he liked my message, but warned me that while he had a body that was out of this world, he was a 50 year old man. I understood his warning. All too often you hear guys on the Internet and the chat lines screaming stuff like, “No fats, no fems, no old people.” Or, “Nobody over 35.” Or “You old ass niggas don’t hit me up.” I can appreciate if you are not into having sex with older men—but the level of disrespect that I see for guys in their 40s and up is amazing. It’s almost a hatred that gay folks have for older gentlemen (who really aren’t that old). It kinda depresses me.
But what those guys throw away, I scoop up. I will fuck an older brotha in a minute—and actually have had some great sex with guys in their 40s and 50s who not only looked better and were in better shape than many twenty or thirtysomething guys I had met—but whose sex was better and more fulfilling.
I never found out about TRADE’s sex. He was too busy talking. We started conversing around 4PM and didn’t stop talking to about 6PM. I was worn out. At first the conversation was very sexual—but the more he talked to me, the more he started talking about work, and life, and blah, bo peep, bah, bookie, black sheep, and I had to tune him out because he was getting on my fucking nerves. Have you ever met someone who is obsessed with hearing his voice? TRADE, a self proclaimed philosopher and intellectual, is one of those guys—but with attention deficit disorder. For example, I asked him what he was getting into this weekend (trying to hint that we should get together).
I am not getting into much, just relaxing. I have been off for the past two days, so I have two more days of rest before I go back to HELL. Yeah man, my job is HELL—it is so stressful. But I worked myself up. At first I managed security at my firm, but then I went to school and uplifted myself, and learned about computers and then I became head of technology at my firm. And let me tell you, I’ve stood next to some important people, I never thought I would be standing next to Gorbachev, or that asshole George W. Bush. Can you believe they re-elected him? I fault the American public for putting that man back in office for four more years. And all because of what? The war in Iraq. What do you think?
I was annoyed. I replied,
Yeah I think it is a problem that he got re-elected.
I said a few more lines about Bush, and then transitioned back to my original question, So what are you doing this weekend?
I had to interrupt.Yeah you did ask me that. Oh not much. You know you and I should get together. So you should call me sometime. I am probably going to stay in the house this weekend, but next weekend I am going to go to the Auto Show. Do you like the Auto Show? I love the Auto Show. I go every year I love the cars. But when I go, I go in nd I get out quickly. That’s why I like to go alone. Because when I go, I go and I get my brochures and handouts, then I check out the particular models I want, and I might talk to a few of the representatives. I don’t stand in line trying to sit in the cars and stuff. I hate going with other people because they want to go and spend like three hours, not me. But I’ve also been to the Detroit Auto Show. Its nice as well, but not as crowded as Chicago’s, but unfortunately, you’re in Detroit. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Detroit, but Detroit is a terrible city. No development, lots of violence, it’s dirty. Just awful,
Yeah TRADE I have been to Detroit before actually, and...But he felt the need to interrupt me and he went on to talk about his friends who owned a condo in the Detroit, and how he could never own a condo in Chicago because.
I finally had to say enough. I told him that my head was hurting and that I had to go. He gave me his number and told me to call him. I took it and told him that I would. Why would I call him after such an awful conversation? See my post on the treasure troll theory. Before he hung up he said, “I have to say one thing, you are a great listener.” I rolled my eyes.
When I got out of chat conference with TRADE, another 50 year old guy, named P.T. hit me up. He told me that he worked out 3 to 4 days a week, “but I am 50 years old”. I was thinking to myself, where were all of these buffed out 50 year olds coming from? I hit him up and he sounded really nice and extremely horny. He said that he loved to kiss and that he was up for anything safe. I told him that I was up for anything, but I wasn’t sure if I would be into the kissing thing. So he decided to come right over. He said that he was about 5’10 and 180 pounds. I was pretty excited to meet him.
He came over and I met P.T. at the door. He looked alright—like a middle aged man. He wasn’t particularly attractive, but he wasn’t ugly either. He had on the whitest kicks I’ve seen on a brotha and an athletic suit—very sporty and clean. I brought him in the apartment and we chatted for a second and relaxed each other. I got him to take his shirt off, and I realized why he wore the layered gym suit. He was fat. I looked desperately around his body for signs that he went to the gym 3-4 times a week. I found nothing.
Disappointment set in. And I decided immediately that I wasn’t going to have sex with him. He told me that he loved having his nipples played with—so I focused on them the entire evening. But he kept grabbing my ass, and trying to kiss me in the mouth.
He kept trying until finally I felt his tongue on my lips. I tried not to be rude and resisted the urge to whip my face away—instead I just moved slowly. But then he tried again. And I had to stop and tell him, “I told you I am not into kissing, so you need to stop trying to plant kisses on my face.” He responded, “I’m sorry, its just that your lips are so nice, just the kind of lips I like, and I want to feel my lips against them.” I told him, “I understand that, but don’t try to kiss me again.”
He didn’t try. That. But he tried for my ass. He kept grabbing my ass and squeezing it. Even though I had no intentions on letting him in, I thought it was hot that he kept touching it. I just kept playing with his nipples while he had one hand on his dick and another on my ass. And then he looked at me and said, “When are you going to let me get some of this pussy?”
Pussy. I got a little agitated hearing this. I said,
Pussy? I don’t have a pussy.
He responded,
Oh I’m sorry. When are you going to give me some of that boy pussy?As if somehow that made it better. I told him,
I don’t have that either. I have an ass. Men don’t have pussies.
I was ready for him to leave. He shortly blew his load after I started talking really nasty to him. But I still couldn’t get the whole PUSSY TALK out of my mind. P.T. wasn’t the first guy to have called my ass a pussy before. I have stopped sex before because a guy either called his or my ass a pussy. The pussy centered names that guys give the ass really turn me off: PUSSY, BOY PUSSY, MANGINA, BOOGINA. Why do some guys call it that? Think about it—if you are having sex with a man, you obviously—at least at that moment—don’t want pussy, because otherwise you’d be with a girl. Yet, these guys want to attribute this female body part (that they don’t want at the time) to the man that they are with.
I understand, different strokes for different folks—but when you get with me, leave the pussy talk at the door.
posted by Bernard Bradshaw at Monday, February 07, 2005
3 Comments:
Boy pussy. Ugh...every time I hear that phrase I cringe. It's only slightly worse than "man pussy", but not by much.
LMAO! I have to co-sign on this one, Sex. There's nothing that makes This Man go limp faster than a guy who calls it, Manpussy or Pussy period!
I'll triple that emotion, its almost as much of a turn off as the word "nigga" for me, but both will make me stop what I am doing and leave.
Post a Comment
<< Home