All You Can Eat
Filed under: Eros - November 27, 2006 @ 8:37 am
Most people I date can’t handle the whole enchilada. They want me and looove that I’m so open-minded about sex, and think I taste good, BUT.
They want to order things a la carte, off the dessert tray - amazing oral sex, oh yes! openness to mff, I’ll take two of those! sex toy box, ooh, let me try!
They can’t handle the whole meal, though, the buffet - seeing other people, the bi thing, mfm fantasies, gay porn, the wicked thoughts in my head; it makes them throw up.
But dontcha think it’s better to be with someone spicy who fills you up than to be with someone bland who leaves you hungry and wanting more? Don’t you want to expand your palate?
I do. I want to taste it all.
2. Went with my dad at 8am to pet sit. Fed a guppy. Watched the 18-year-old matted, sweater-wearing cat named Trixie walk into walls because she’s blind. Searched the house for the green bandana-wearing cat named Izzie because she needed medication. Discovered by looking under all the beds that the people who own the house are slobs. Fought the urge to search the drawers next to their bed for evidence that they have sex. Stopped after two drawers and finding nothing good.
5. Got buzzed on pom vodka and crashed a Tgiving dinner hosted by a filthy rich cardiologist in his 60’s. I couldn’t get over his house - life-size lion statues, an amazing library with a fireplace and NO BOOKS (wtf?!), a master bathroom so huge it even had a fridge and microwave, and best of all, his 36-year-old hot Russian trophy girlfriend who didn’t say a single word except, “I’m sorry?” The two best lines I heard at the dinner were, “That’s a darling jean jacket!” and “Myra, your cranberry jello? It was wonderful, just wonderful.” Oh but there was the 93-year-old man who would walk around and point at his heart and mumble, “I almost died.” And then he’d go on to explain his recently installed pacemaker, and say while drooling, “The doctor says I can bowl again, but I have to cut out SEX.”
6. Stopped at my parents long enough to down a beer and listen to my mom talk about Civil War generals as if they were still alive and relevant.
8. Went to 
My dad is one of those RWLL (Republicans Who Love Lesbians).
He recently started up this business and some of his first clients were a lesbian couple. When he first spoke to one of them on the phone, he thought he was talking to a man, but then he went out to meet them, and hit the jackpot. According to him, “One is real cute, and the other one is (shrug) just fine!”
So when I showed it to another friend, he helpfully directed me to 
A self-exalter, Lou valorized narcissism as the true source of love and vitality. Expanding on her female chauvinism, she claimed that women were not only the hornier, hotter, polygamous sex but also erotic multi-taskers who performed a dozen roles at once in love: “lover, sibling, refuge, goal, defense, judge, angel, friend, child, and mother.” Male envy of this sexual superiority explained the angel-whore split and misogyny in general.
The ones where the guy cums on a woman’s eyeball. On purpose.
OK so I found this 
As well as 
People who deserve a spanking:
The other day I was driving at night and I couldn’t see a thing, and I got all worried that maybe the 
But then a friend told me he could help me replace the bulb, and oh my god I was so relieved. But that meant I’d have to go to one of those hideous auto parts store. They smell bad and are a major turn off, all grimy and full of carburetors and blue collar men with greasy paws. I tend to selectively remove those stores from my field of vision, along with Radio Shacks and hardware stores, hell any place my dad used to drag me as a kid where I’d hang on to the gumball machine for life support at the front of the store as he turned into a zombie in the Electronic Twilight Zone.
I decided to make the trip to the car parts store more fun by treating myself to a car air freshener. That’s really the only interesting part of the store. I had my heart set on a Pamela Anderson air freshener, cuz ever since I saw 
Jesus, gay men know how to have their sex. I mean, they can look at any scene and make it dirty: a meadow, workshop, classroom, church, you name it. And they go all balls out with it, pumped up muscles, super sized cocks, deep down penetration…
Kinda like the pervy old eye doctor with the lift in his shoe I saw the other day. He asked what I did and I told him I’m a writer. He blurted, “Everything I write comes out filthy.”
40ish MWM in hotel looking to share my fleshlight with a deserving cock. If you haven’t experienced this before, you are in for a treat. In some ways, it is better than the real thing. [ed. note: my fav part of the posting!] You can check it out at www.fleshlight.com. I sanitize “her” after each use so don’t worry. Just want to see someone go crazy as I slide this splendid pussy over your throbbing cock. e-mail as soon as possible as I am jet lagged and need to crash early
happy she didn’t pay $$ to browse his trinket tomb stash. Instead, wandered the wings of taxidermy, flooded the senses with komodo dragons, man-eating lions (”you know, that movie with
12. Saw a 
The other day my co-worker Jen walked into my office wearing loose shorts. She casually said, “Wanna see my wax job?” then yanked aside her shorts to show me her crotch, oh my! that smooth bikini line. By the way, she was eating a banana while doing show-and-tell. I sat there and gulped, thinking, “Doesn’t she know that I’m a man trapped in a woman’s body?!” 