Tag Archive: foreplay

Dear Dr.Ruth,

watched a movie the other day. About a female loving. I am quite a liberal type who honestly thinks that anything goes until both persons are fine and agree with it. The words „dirty“ and „kinky“ are written on the bonny and inspirational part of my dictionary.

Anyhow, watching 2 female entities falling in love and loving in general. They are lying in bed. She 1 under and She 2 above her. A classical missionary position. And they feel fine. They are both moaning. The She 2, which is above, seems to be pretty busy. She is nailing. The penetrator. At least that is how it looked like.

Considering that I am a woman, I don`t see anything disgusting or odd in it. I really don`t bother myself with questioning about my womanhood, or with the fear of it, like the Enemy. THEY are spending their whole lives in constant insecurity, wondering if they are men enough, for which they become very intimidated by the love of the same sex. And we…We are fine. No dilemmas. We are 100% women and that we will be forever.

The way I picture a female sex, it is a very sensual thing. There are really lots of things to touch, grab, stroke, pet, lick…

But what after it? It all looks like a truely fantastic foreplay. Very hot, very exciting, very horny. And when you are aroused like that, the only thing you have on your mind is to get it. To take it in you. The quicker the better. NOOOOOOOOOW. I do bealive that out there, some women bealive that foreplay is actually the best thing in sex, but I get incredibly horny and in that moment I want it. This is why I am here. Give it. Now.

And for that reason, watching the movie, I`ve pictured myself in that role. I am apt to trying other`s shoes and jumping out the closet, trying to know how is it for somebody else. So I am sitting there and trying to imagine how it feels. Then I stopped. And now what?

In the respective situation mentioned above, on the edge of the mind and orgasm, the only thing that I would want is the Organ. Which is….missing in action. Not there. I`m raising the sheets, peeking under bed, tumbling pillows and blankets hoping to find it and finally get it! But there is none. What the fuck?!? Literally!

The only thing that comes in mind is that She 2 will come up, or even better come in, with a dildo. That soothes me for a while, but then again, I want the real thing. Which is not there.

And there I find myself disappointed. For not getting it. No cookie for me. A-a. Technically, yes, someone was eating, but that was not what I ordered! Check, please!

There I decided that this was not for me.

Yes, I was touched by the tenderness, profundity and understanding in their love, but what is a relationship without good sex?

So there, dear Dr.Ruth, I must admit…there will never be a good lesbian out of me. Or in me, in a matter of (s)peaking.

We sung last night, Iggy and I…. No fun to be alone… And somehow we synced. With the rythm and general condition. Without the applause of the crowd went wild. Just the two of us.

Then I replaced the heartbreaking atmosphere with a social glass of wine, offered by a friend. Logical as he is, he didn`t saw any downers, just a win-win situation. Fuck it, wrong audience!

Somehow we started talking about a guy we both know. They call him The Magician.

He replaced the cylinder hat with black Doc Martens and the rabbits with pure sex. Must emphasize that the guy is far from the general apprehension of attractiveness or hotness but he scores. Oh, he scores bigtime! And the ones he scores ARE pretty and really hot!

He`s not tall, acually he is quite short, not goodlooking, not rich. But his score is just fantastic. Sweet young peaches, older broads, married ones, ordinary ones, truely and really hot ones – all his.

The question is how?

Why him, howcome not somebody else, someone far more hotter, gets his piece of action so much sparsely?

Then I had an an epiphany – go with the flow. That`s it!

The thing is… he`s got an excellent style. And a very refreshing one. You just don`t feel any burden with him. He is always sunny, on a silent and gentle way. He doesn`t have any, so commonly met, peacock excesses, when a guy boasts and shows of. Men, when they try to impress a woman, so often exaggerate with wittiness, narcissistic performances, their importance in this world, their relevance at work, among his friends… You always get a „look at me!“ modus operandi.

But not with the Magician. With him, you can expect just absolute cosiness. He doesn`t harass you or disturb you, his compliments are always friendly never ambiguous…He always glides by the woman, following her rythm and needs.

No always means no.

He is patient and tactful, always pleasant, never ever agressive. He doesn`t protrudes, preaches, moans, complains, he always gives a feeling to the woman that it is all about her. On his calm and smiling way.

That`s it. No mince, no Oscar nomination, just slow and easy sliding.

And damn, he`s good at it!

Somewhere, behind the 7 seas, there`s a guy, tall, blond (ah, with the colour of golden honey which pastes to the soul….),  very fit with the proper 6 pack instead of a beer sack (standad male package), an artistic soul (he claims ardently)…

So one day he meets a female entity, she blinks and sighs, and he stares into distance worryingly, probably for the spiritual state and the level of evolution of all the creatures from his yokel birthplace to Andromeda.

So he grabs her hand and takes her, with a promise of a stormy summer dusk on his lips. But alas!

A cardinal element of the story: scenography

The rest of the apartment was ok, if we ignore his impressionist reach sparsed all over the flat but… then they got to the bedroom. Yeah. Well…

The bed was located in the middle of a semicircular gap in the room, which wouldn`t be strange if there wasn`t one detail: on some 20 cm from the bed were narrow mirrors attached to the wall. Which wasn`t there presenting the hommage to 80s  but as a architectonic detail of  a very important role.


He stripped and started with a performance: observe my biceps, then look at my triceps, then of course the quadriceps, watch the line on my back when I stand like this… and so for 15 minutes. God all mighty!

The female entitiy lays on the bed and waits.


And then he jumped. I shit you not. And nailed it. Flying.And started to plough.

Style: pneumatic drill.

Clasification of the fucker: banger (forwards the porn on full-action-hero part, memorizes the rythm-bang bang, proudly uses it in real life, the rest of the porn ignores- the pose, the girl, the place….

Sound background:

She sighs, moans (giving her best). But he is the star of the evening. The script is written just for him. And then he started to shine.

He: „I fuck you like a champ!“

She: „Oh!“

He: „You`re feeling so goooooooood!“

She: „Ah!“

He: „I am fantastic!“

She: „Mmm…“

He: „Nobody fucked you like this before!“

She: „Oooooh!“

He: „I am so hot!“

She: „Ha?“

Then she opens her eyes and looks at him. But he, he is not looking at her but in those mirrows above the bed, right above her head! He is looking at himself! His face and expressions. Not their action but his „lovely“ eyes. And cheers!

There the entity started to grab his attention. Like „helloooooooooooo, I am here, anyone?“. But nothiiiiiiiiiiiing. The guy is so self absorbed that he even doesn`t notice her.

And he proceeded with „I fuck you so good, nobody fucked you so good before, blah blah…..“. And like this for 2 fucking hours! No pauses, no slowing down, changing the rythm, or at least some silence for crying loud! Without this eulogies and odes to himself.

Post coitus:

He cums, gets up, goes to the big mirrow and stars to buckle in front of it and to marvel to his biceps for next 15 minutes. Without even looking at her.

 Now that is a classical idiot!