As clearly as one can remember anything after shots of Burnette’s, I remember the very first small penis I ever saw. In hindsight he wasn’t really that small (width saved him) but at the time I’d only seen maybe three penises up close and the lighting in his apartment bathroom was very unforgiving. Years later, I follow his current girlfriend on Instagram and often wonder what her life is about.You fuck a small penis on the regular. What’s that like? Maybe she doesn’t know all the inches the world has to offer. I’ve had sex with men that could change the state of your vagina for good. Straight up childbirth status! Those types of penises have their time and place and drawbacks too but I’d always wondered WHAT IS IT LIKE?! Do you feel like you’re giving something up? Is there something apparently missing before, during or after? Are you unfulfilled every time you get naked?
And then…I had sex with a small penis.
And had many orgasms.
There is one very clear idea women must understand before engaging in relations with a small penis. You are not going to get fucked. You have to do the fucking. It’s the idea that a small-membered man can fuck and please you that makes small penis sex such a fail.
The second small penis I ever saw got much closer than the first. He tricked me with notable oral sex techniques and when the time came for the big show it felt more like a commercial break. Like, seriously. I was laying there wondering if he had even put it in and he’s just humping his life away to no avail. That moment ended with me pretending I’d had too too may drinks and was feeling quite sick. This is the same technique I used when faced with the third small penis I’d ever seen. It was in a car on the expressway headed home because apparently it’s the new wave to give girls lots of shit and or suggest sexual favors as payment for taking them home after a night out (we will discuss this later).
It was the fourth and final small penis I had ever seen that I gave a chance. Surprisingly too, he was the smallest of the small but I still managed to make it work. A few times.
I can’t believe I let my second blogiversary go almost completely un-shouted out. It was March 3rd and I’m so happy my baby has grown and changed and become something that lifts me (and others) up, which is surprising considering how it started. I can actually have lengthy and pleasant conversation with the boy who hurt me so bad I had to tell the whole internet about it. A year and a half post, he said he was sorry and I cried like I’d been waiting every night since to hear it.
Looking back at times like that give me hope for my current situation where thoughts of my most recent ex-almost-relationship sneak all too easily into my head. I mean, I’m over things for the most part. Like, I’ve mourned all the immediate losses. I’m over no “Good Morning” texts and I’m okay with the fact that no one cares how my day went. I’m over the fact that the guy I used to see everyday doesn’t want to hang out with me…ever. Subsequently, I’m over having to go to movies and eat at restaurants alone. I’m slowly but surely reverting back to the one woman show.
Still, there is one last piece of the puzzle giving me a bit of trouble: the sex. Specifically, the penis. First, I should tell you a thing or two about me and my ex-almost. We had lots of sex. Our sexual chemistry was far and beyond that of our actual chemistry, which is probably why I’m here today telling you a bit too much about our not-even-a-relationship. In any case, we did it (or something like “it”) all the time.. everywhere…all the time. So you can imagine my struggle as a newly single woman trying her best to save face with her ex-almost while still satisfying her physical needs. And I can’t even find peace in masturbation because, duh! Who/what am I thinking about? Uggh! Have you ever whimpered while masturbating? Not like a “Oh my God! I can’t believe how great this feels” whimper, but a “Why doesn’t he want me? Waah! Waah!” whimper.
The sex was (is?) great but I’ve had great sex in the past and know there’s great sex to be had in the future. I just don’t have it in me to go out into the world and find it or let it find me. The idea of letting someone new in my vagina is nauseating. Seriously. And it has less to do with me being hung up on ex-almost and more to do with me trying to keep the list of men who’ve seen my areola on one side of the page, ya know?
Plus, there’s the familiarity thing. Ex-Almost knows what I like and how I like it and vice versa. I’ll be damned if I disrobe for mediocre sexy time. Ex-almost’s penis and I developed a relationship. I took ownership of him. “He” was mine to care for and such like a girlfriend should and it looks like breaking up with “him” is going to be the hardest battle of all. Couple all that with the fact that Ex-almost cares whether I live or die…and how I’m getting home. The two of us still give a shit about each other which makes things all the more complicated. I made a vow to myself a little while back that I was through having meaningless sex, which, for me, means sex with men I’m not in a relationship with. I doubt this resolution will last but for the time being I think I’ve had my fill of “oops!” sex and would like to see what sex in like/love is all about. This presents even more issues as it means I must get back out there in the dating game. But the dating game is so difficult when you’re out of school. What am I to make of glances on the street and “You’re beautiful“‘s at work? How do I turn a crush into coffee when passing notes or Facebook chat are not an option (I don’t do FB chat)?
Dude, twenty-two going on twenty-three is a rough place to be. I still have all the same kiddie urges with knowledge enough to know that they’re indeed childish. Like, I’m so down with passing a note to this guy at work who could have it all except that’s totally not what’s up in 2012 after the age of recess. So, what it all comes down to is: I really want to have sex but at this point in time ONLY with my ex except every time we do I get a “But, Christine, why?” feeling and I’d really like to have sex with someone else except I know that that won’t leave me feeling any better unless I cultivate some sort of meaningful relationship which I don’t know how to do because the city of Chicago is completely unlike the small college town and all-girls Catholic school where this girl learned her best moves.
For a change I’m asking you all, what’s a girl to do?
Love you guys!
For those of you who just don’t care or took a step away from “The Loop” for a day or two, let me brief you quickly. Yesterday, Chris Brown and Rihanna released two remixed tracks (one from each of their repertoire’s) to mixed reviews. Rih’s hit, “Brithday Cake” has been a smash from the moment most of us read the song title and a full length track has been long awaited. But a full length tune accompanied by her ex, Breezy, promising to beat it up (in the best way this time) was, like, “Oh. Okay then!”
I mean, Rih is determined to put her cake is his face and Chris has his wishes ready for the candles. All I can think is…Where the fuck is your girlfriend?
Of course, I took my opinions to Twitter. Any excuse that the song idea was strictly professional went out of the window when the song wasn’t put on the album initially in its current (remixed) form. From the moment “Talk That Talk” was released, folks wondered why in the hottest hell the best track was cut short. I could spend this whole post discussing how this may have been a media ploy from the very beginning…how it seems Chris and Rih have been subtweeting each other for the past month or so…how gossip blogs have been reporting about their rekindled friendship and recent contact…how the two were sighted at Rih’s birthday party “dancing and being intimate” all night…and how I truly believe Chris’ verse and the “remix” may have been the original track from the get-go…. but I’ll tuck my degree away on this one.
We’ll try to look at the situation at it’s base: a guy and girl who were once in a relationship reach a point where they feel comfortable rekindling a friendship, but are finding that that friendship may be bleeding over into past feelings. Again, I wonder, Where is Karrueche? (Chris’ current girlfriend).
There isn’t much Karrueche could say about the two releasing a track together. I can see how her opinion about Chris’ music and subsequently his career breaches the boundary of their relationship. Not sure how long they’ve been together, but I’m certain she’d have to have a ring on it in order to have any say in those matters. However, there’s the issue of Chris’ attendance at Rih’s recent birthday celebration. The bad bitch in all of us is giving Kar’ the ghetto-girl-eye-roll, smacking our lips and saying, “Honey, please!”. ‘Cause our man wouldn’t have been allowed to go, right? In a perfect world: right. It’s unfortunate, however, that the men who concede to “You can’t go to your ex’s birthday party” and other such demands, aren’t typically the men we’re attracted to. Those men are pussies, right? I myself much prefer a man who would look at me a little crazy, attend the event and text me once he finally made it home. Better yet, I’d love a guy who would tell me about the invite and decide not to go of his own volition. That’s a winner! But a perfect world is indeed what we do NOT live in and upon receiving notice of Rihanna’s party, Chris decided to go sans girlfriend. But after years of fan-dom, I feel as though I know Rih and baby girl wouldn’t be havin’ it with Kar’ poppin’ cooch at her event. Not at all. Not even a little bit. Shit would’ve went up in flames.
What I’m hoping is that we all have this wrong. I’m hoping Chris and Rih spent the entire evening in separate Dougie circles. I hope no shoulders were dusted off. I hope they kept things legit. Because the the girl in me wants the best for Karrueche. I want not to believe she is in complete denial about her relationship. I want to believe Chris is really trying to make it work with her, really enjoys her company and thinks she’s something special. But…okay let me break this down real quick…
Do you all listen to Chris and Rihanna’s music? I always surprise myself with just how much Chris Brown I have in my iTunes (ie: kinda every album/mixtape he has, but whatever!) and I’ve been a fan of Rihanna’s since she was telling the DJ to turn the music up. These are two very passionate individuals. They’re passionate about what they do. They’re passionate about their fans and their fame. They’re passionate about living in a way a lot of people try to emulate. It’s not the kind of passion you can fake. And these two individuals had a WHOLE relationship that ended in a WHOLE domestic violence situation. Now, how many of you have been in a fight with an intimate partner? Those fights are different than any other kind of fight you can have. The crazy things that fly out of the mouths of two angry lovers could leave either rocking back and forth in a dark corner alone. When a boyfriend yells at you it’s the most startling thing second only to your parents. Now, imagine finding yourself in a fight so heated, your boyfriend leaves you looking like Elephant Man. Shits nuts!
What I’m attempting to say is: Chris and Rih have a kind of unforgettable love. They have something that won’t ever go away, They have the kind of attraction that only doesn’t occur when you’re actively working against it. It’s the kind of thing that’s only helped with morning affirmations and your good friends hiding your cell phone in times of weakness. It seems the two have let their guards down now. They’re probably thinking the same thing we all think: “I’m over it”.
My only wish is for Karrueche to open her eyes in this moment while she can still escape with a fair amount of dignity. She could bow out gracefully and, better yet, come out on top of all this. It’s so crazy how us ladies lose tons of swag during the demise of a relationship. We beg. We moan. We reveal all of our feelings in a last ditch effort to win back a man who was probably never ours. We kill whatever mystery is left. We make sure we’re all used up when most times we could’ve made it out on at least 30% battery.
Karrueche just needs to drag her ass out, shake her hot oriental tale, flip her hair and show Chris WE BOTH HOT OUTCHEA! NO WORRIES!!
TWEET YOUR THOUGHTS! @ChicagoRose entertain me at work :)
Sometimes I feel bad for constantly suggesting that you all watch porn as a means of enhancing your sex life. I get that watching other people have sex isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But watching porn isn’t just about getting yours when you’re horny and alone. I think it can really help those who are timid sexually. It gives you the opportunity see the wild world we live in and experience the variety of fun and pleasure out there. And I honestly don’t wanna see the kind of sex you’re having if you feel uncomfortable watching others do it (snooze fest fa sho’). Porn will get you over that “Icky! we’re naked” playground-cooties bullshit quick. And a lot of you need it (I’m talking to you “I don’t give head” girl).
‘Cause what’s my motto? If you’re going to do it, do it! All out. As few inhibitions as possible. I acknowledge that sex is an important act but if you aren’t married and planning a family, it should be the best time—every time!
In the spirit of encouraging porn viewership, I’m going to share some of the notable spins, turns, dips, and summersaults I see in the XXX world so we can all figure out ways to implement them in our own sex lives. Really, I’m using this as a sexual wish list. I’m adding these moves to my shopping cart in hopes that I find a sugar daddy trying to “Checkout Now”.
I remember this one video like it was yesterday. It was moreso a home made sex tape situation than porno, which is my preference if you needed to know. Anyways, the woman was riding in reverse cowgirl and just as she was about to finish, the guy hooks both of his arms under her thighs, pulls her up and throws that thang right on his face. It was the most seamless 69 I’ve ever seen. It was 10s across the board. The seamlessness of it all i was turned me on most. I remember once, freshmen year, my good friend was telling me about the sex she had the night before. She was describing how it was extremely hot in the room so, she told him she couldn’t stand it anymore. The guy lifts her off the bed and turns on the fan all while continuing to fuck her. This blew our little minds then. Still kinda does. I love a man that is assertive in all areas of life including the bedroom. Make your moments bold and sure. Know where you want me and how you want me. Tell me what’s up ‘cause I definitely have no problem letting you know some things.
The other aspect of this little move that really wet my whistle was that he interrupted her stroke to pay closer attention to the V. He pulled the vagina OFF of his dick. Like, dude…I don’t know what it is but there’s something to be said for stopping mid stroke just to have a few licks. I won’t say it, but there IS something to be said, gents!
So, remember, he hooked his arms under her thighs. He pulled her up with his forearms, not hands. Probably not important, but visually it was tops.
Ladies, will you be adding this to your wishlist? It’s so simple, why not? What have YOU seen on the triple-X screen lately?
The other day I was answering an advice question about how exactly to put the moves on a hottie you only “know” on the internet. My first piece of advice was to cool your jets. Don’t use words like “pursue” so as not to engage any girl-crazy that might try to sneak through. Stick to friendlier language like “get to know better”. The former sounds like a Starbucks date while the latter screams, “That better be his sister in this profile picture!”. Later in my reply I realized that getting her crushes attention would indeed be a kind of pursuit. It was going to take time and patience and precise movements. It was going to take conscious effort.
This all became a reality for me the other day when I was hit on (yet again) by a guy we’ll call Bob. Bob has the most lackadaisical approach to dating I’ve ever seen. Though I would never look twice at him typically, I couldn’t help but think, “Free tacos!” when he asked me to dinner. As I think back on guys I’ve dated, almost all of them had known me for a considerable time before the lovin’ ever began. Most of them had to convince me, in one way or another, to date them. I don’t mean they begged, I mean they forced my ass out of the house and into a restaurant or movie theater or bowling alley and worked their magic. I’m just not an easy sell when it comes to dudes. I make it a point to be unimpressed with most people, because, really, most people are unimpressive. Let’s be honest. There are definitely men that catch my attention but so does the color fuchsia and the women’s shoe department at Nordstrom’s and the words “Drink Special!”. I just try to keep it real boss in these streetz. Even still, a small fraction of me held out hope that Bob had some persuasive tactics up his sleeve. But he’s asked me out to dinner three times and a bitch is still hungry!
As you could imagine, I’m not too butthurt about the actual date. Though free Mexican, awkward conversation and a prematurely intimate had on the thigh is always fun, Gossip Girl and chocolate pudding have been working well enough for me. What really bugs me is that Bob makes a point to dominate all time in my presence with flirty conversation. And it’s not even top notch flirty conversation. It’s like, flirting at recess. It’s the equivalent of “Hey what’d you get on that Geography test?”
What sucks is that I know exactly what Bob wants the beginnings of this “relationship” to look like… and it ain’t happenin’! I first saw it when we were both at the same party. Yes, I invited him to the party. But in 2012 one should never assume a text is being sent to them and only them when it comes to a party. Anyway, he walks in the door and thinks it’s going to be the Christine and Bob Show. You know when two people that are crushing on each other/have a strong physical attraction get all drunk and cutesy at a party? Lots of sitting on of laps and sipping of drinks. Lots of making out in dark corners, faux lap dances and “getting fresh air”. Lots of Facebook pictures that shouldn’t be tagged, hand holding and other things that would soon fade if ever you entered into an actual relationship.
Obviously, I had to let Bob know that this wasn’t that. But I’m nice so it was exceptionally awkward having to dance away his hand on my lower back. Of the things I remember from that night, telling him “Don’t touch me!” rings out loud and clear.
What Bob needs to understand is that HE likes ME. Not the other way around. Well, at least not yet. But, probably not ever given that he’s absolutely clueless when it comes to pursuing a woman. Here’s a tip: you have to actually like, PURSUE me! Put forth some sort of effort. Following through on a date would be a place to start but with him I’d hate to see where it could end.
There were two things that Bob did in the very very very beginning that snuffed out the flames of our love before it could even crisp the grilled cheese.
1) Bob asked me “So, like, what do you like to do?”. Of all the possible combinations of words and phrases in all the languages of all the world, this has to be my least favorite. I like to sleep, eat and drink (and drank). I like the internet and bad reality TV. I Facebook and I tweet. I do what everyone does! I hate this question because the answer is never cave diving. It’s never rescuing abused pit bulls from dog fighting rings. It’s never ever teaching blind kids how to tie their shoes. Let us all work hard at trying to find a fitting alternative to this horrid question. I mean, if you ask me what I did today or this past weekend you could get a feel for what I like to do in general, couldn’t you? If not, I’ve taken to answering the question with I rap and design lingerie in my spare time.
2) Bob asked me out on a date then proceeded to ask what I’d like to eat and where I’d like to go. No. No. No, sir. I’ve agreed to the date. That is where my job ends and yours begins. YOU want the date. That is why YOU asked. Whether or not we go on the date doesn’t chafe my cooch in the least, buddy. I have nothing invested. Your job isn’t finished. You now have to woo me with your exceptional date planning skills. It’s really not that hard. And though I appreciate you taking my interests into account, just go for it. I’ll be sure to alert you of any peanut or shell fish allergies.