Tag Archive: making love


You know those sick bastards (and I`m sure you do) which are hiding and beating behind the bushes? That perverted type which is addressing you with a larynigitic voice „I would fuck youuuuuuuu...“ then following you home? The one which is jerking off and running after you in the same time? Those sorrowful creatures which you discover in almost every block when the night falls and on every beach during the summer?

The ones for which today you never go out alone at night, avoid walking in the parks or, God forbids, on some strange quiet alleys. Terrible, isn`t it?

But have you ever asked yourself what made them that way? Well, maybe this is the answer.

I`m sitting in a pretty pleasent company, on a house party, sipping some nice wine. And there we are, a bunch of laid back friends and new kith, joking and talking… You know how those things go. Like I said, I`m sitting cosily and bibbing my Chardonney, feeling fine, when out of the blue, one broad, a woman and a mother, starts with her dilemma:

Woman/mother: „I real think there is something wrong with our kid…..“

Audience: „Why? How do you mean?“

Woman/mother: „He˙s not jerking off!“

Audience: „?!?!?!?“ (how should you react on such a statement anyway?) …“Hmmmm…weeeell…hmmmmm…How old is he?“ – we ask embarrassingly.

Woman/mother: „12“ – she says.

Audience: „How do you know he`s not…you know….beating the monkey?“ – we ask again blinking in abashment.

Woman/mother: „I check! Every now and then, I crash suddenly into his room or bathroom and I still have managed to catch him!“

JESUS! Holy…Say what?!?!?

I almost dropped the glass! WTF?!?!? She does what?…It`s…You`re…Unbelievable!

No wonder he`s not jerking off! How could he, poor thing?

How in the world she doesn`t sees how traumatic it must be to the kid, all the time living in the fear if his mother will fly in the room (or bathroom) while he is whacking?!?

Can you imagine what must be going in his head: there he is, cockering his little friend, his little pride and joy, dreaming of some delicious chick and her nice big boobs, just him and his right hand working together, and he feels fiiiiiiiiiine, yeah, ….that`s it….he`s almost there…oh yes…there he goes…oooooooooooh….and his mother comes bursting in! He would…he would… he would die!!! Jesus! To get caught in that age by your mother while you are masturbating!

And if he is not doing it, he surely doesn`t do it because of her, for crying out loud! Because he never knows when the perverted sicko of his mother will crash in like SWAT! And what would she say if she would „catch“ him? You`ve been punked?!? Or: let mamma see if you`re doing it properly?!?

What a control freak. What in the world do you have to do with his little ding-dong? Of course he`s not normal, how can he be? When every time he feels that strange but pleasant arising, he remembers his mother. Thinking how she will enter in the room right at this moment. Cathing him in the middle of the performance. Give the kid some privacy!

What a world! And then you ask how the perverts are made. In this very way, dear respected woman/mother! When a healthy, delightful and above all joyful act becomes a traumatic experience caused by such a parent! Who wants to think of his mother when he`s doing it?!? What a freak!

I am sincerely hoping that I won`t meet her again so soon. Or her kid, when he grows up, when I think of it.

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.

The phone rings. With a cry for help. (literally, I`ve picked it up and heard „aaaaaaaaaaa“). A couple I know, friends of mine, demanded to meet because, I quote“they can`t take it anymore“. Well, when you put it that way….

They are together for, what, 4 months now. Total love, they say. Inseparable from day one, they sleep together, go shopping together, eat together, scream together…

And that is the problem.

They fight. Oh my God they really do! And the fights are brutal, sometimes they take all night. As they are both insecure, when the first one bites, the other one returns with heavy artillery. Not even thinking about it. After all this time, it have become a habbit, a reflex move for both of them.

One of the things on which they are proud is that they talked, reported and recounted everything to each other. Whole emotional and sexual past. With all the juicy details…hm. Bad move.

The actual problem is:

-she have declared that her ex, with whom she spent several years, is still in her heart, as a good friend and a nice person, that they call each other from time to time, and blah blah blah…. Ooooooooooooh woman! You… you…. you….did what?!? You can`t say that to HIM!!! What is wrong with you?!? First you tell him, illustrate him with all the technical details, what have you been doing, where, how long, how often and then you spice it with a „he is still in my heart“!?!?!

Who wants to hear that??? He is already dazed and doubtful! So what He actually heard was: „we remained close after all that time after the break up, because he is sooooooooo fantastic and if you make a mistake, if you even slip, I will pick up the phone and return in his arms (and bed)„. Ha!

And why, WHY, are you telling each other everything? What`s that twisted urge of exibitional massacre? That`s official and classical torture!

I don`t want to carry around pictures of my boyfriend with all his ex-s! No details, please.

Give me the basics – we-were-together-and-now-we`re not. Why the hell would I need all the details?!? I don`t wanna know how much fun did you have, how was the sex, how you did it, where you did it, where you`ve been, on which places, which excursions, how she cooked, what she cooked, your funny stories, your romantic tales, how much did you loved her and she….

I don`t ask for it and I don`t want to hear it either. That is cruel. Why would anyone fill me with this informations? Or why would I do it to somebody else? It is a bygone, a past tense and that is a good condition. For us.

We are here now, you and I, and let`s try to do and give the best that we can. Here, now. I don`t want 300 ghosts which will hunt us. I don`t want orgies with all our ex-s, I want just us. We are interesting and loving enough.

When you are pushing them between us, you are not close to me. You are fencing, enclosuring and protecting yourself with them. Be here with me. Let it go.

There, I said it. To them too. To Boo Fighters – the ones that are fighting with scarrying the loved ones away. Don`t be one of them `cause the failure is guaranteed.