Be Good at Something you Like

Time spent with Crystal went by flying, I know it’s a poor and overused metaphor, but it depicts it well. She was seeing another guy at the time, some lame relationship where she wasn’t fucking the guy regularly and still owing him fidelity. Most of us are emotionally monogamous, even engaging in affairs is claiming some of our own pleasure in life back into our lives. We ought to enjoy others and reflect only that which is seen, sort of like mirroring people. Maybe they like stories, and you tell them stories, I’m a pretty good narrator. The most open were upfront, knew what they wanted, how to get it even if it meant sacrificing anything noble and boring, didn’t want a relationship, were out to have some fun. And the girl might not even be married or engaged or anything heavy. Maybe she wants to be picky and free. Others call it bad names like infidelity, unfaithfulness, straying away from the norm. What really is, nothing more than sex. Of course, some drama queens feel the need to validate their feminine values, like professing honesty and chastity. You can go along with it. Say, “Let’s go to South Beach in Winter.” Instill in her a sense of adventure, don’t actually deliver. And if she’s good, why not? Humiliate yourself a little, then retreat and laugh. Yeah, keep a smile on that face. It all seems pretty fun. Like the way she smells after sex, the sweat dripping down her dark hair and well, it’s been fun but best to part ways. This is what you do: do not call her for a few days; then all of a sudden pursue her for a couple more; and then ignore completely for a few days, maybe a week or two. It saves face.
Hey, I tried, I can say. Of course, that is a calculated mistake. I’m not needy and I’m not cold; I run the risk of making mistakes and I am proud of my scars. I believe I am in a blissful state: nothing can bring me down for long. Yeah, I get knocked down, rocked or shaken by an opponent’s blow, but is only because I’m pushing forward. Well, there was a single knockout in my life; and it is when I learn of my son’s autism. That is the hardest blow life has dealt me. No, I don’t hide it. It hurts every other day, and rarely for long, just like bursts of sadness that prompt tears to my eyes and then I look for a place to scream out to the top of my lungs. I let pain circulate through me; I don’t fight it. I let its poison flow, I offer my neck. I want to be able to feel pain and take it like a man. Men ought to pursue their women from time to time, but the real gift is in not fucking it up so much that you can’t later be friends. Friendship should be the reward of a semi-sane relationship. Don’t leave too soon; don’t stay long. Always go out and mingle and meet new people every single day on earth. There’s just no other way to live that is more satisfactory. Don’t deny yourself of pleasure, and be willing to endure a little pain in order to get to Nirvana. In a meditative state, sometimes the mind becomes turbulent before it finally succumbs. Calming your wild thoughts, emptying your head of the excess chatter, thinking too much can be as bad as thinking too little. Leave thoughts behind, and follow me through the lands of naked bodies, glorious adventures, in the smallest amount of time and with the greatest benefits. Of course, I limit to one at a time. It makes sense in every sense. The midterm relationship; a little more than just a fling or a one nightstand, and a lot less than a “serious” relationship. What, are there any “funny” relationships? Well, if there aren’t, there ought to be. Of course, “relationship” is such a confusing term. It should be about bonding, something built in trust. If not, then just turn on the jerk a little, and leave without as much as a word. Appear and reappear; don’t kill the possibility of friendship.
Fall in love, just don’t lose your head. Never lose your cool; never supplicate. Just throw things out there; communicate without the drama. Use drama to scare them away. Otherwise be sweet and sour, just not too sweet and not too sour. Guide her as she goes down on you, tell her to go slow, to look you in the eyes, be the man. She’s your girl and you ought to do to her all the nasty things others have ever put her through. Be ever so soft in the early stages. Just kiss a shadow of her hair, smell it, tell her she smells so good. Kiss her eyes; her nose; her insecurities. Kiss her all over and then some more, and only then, maybe, on the lips. Smell her softly, as you go down on her, real men lick it before they kick it. In order to be good at something, first you must like it. So, enjoy the journey. Savor it every step of the way. Don’t just think of satisfying her; forget thinking. It’s just you and her juicy vagina; keep your eyes away from hers. That would be somewhat submissive. Do look her way and make eye contact once in a blue moon. Kiss her thighs with your breath, draw your hands on top of her skin almost touching her. Stop closer and closer, and take your time. Build anticipation. Feel her come alive; read her body signs. Please her like she really likes it: taking your time. Don’t rush to conclusions. Don’t seek no exits. Don’t be happy to be inside her. Make her want for you to be inside her. And then, if you feel like she is ready, just wait a bit longer. Stop altogether and offer her a drink; pour it from your mouth in hers. Lick her ass; finger her ass and vaginal lips at once, provided that you spend half an hour to get there. Don’t time yourself; just breath; relax in her presence. And don’t be sweet with her. Don’t be rough. Don’t anything except one with her. Hug her deeply, feel her heartbeat, kiss her for hours, fuck her again and again as if this was your only chance. Otherwise, it will be.