On Dirty Minds

hehehe. "dick."

         Yesterday, I was at a party talking to a very respectable fellow: cute, well-versed, and utterly filthy when drunk. Every conversation would quickly devolve into extended metaphors about his penis conquering new lands. After a while, the tales of adventurous dick dissolved entirely into giggles. Tears in his eyes, he apologized to me, the only girl in his audience: “sorry, I think about sex all the time!”

         I snorted, “it’s okay, I do too!” then plied my face into fake seriousness.

        No laughs. 

        He looked away from me, his eyes glaring, disgust playing on his lips. Turned away and began a new conversation with his dudes.  

        “Hey!” I wailed, “why is it okay for a guy to think about sex constantly but not for a girl?” But nobody listened to me. My indignant roars fell upon deaf dicks.

       I felt embarrassed, almost slutty, as though I’d said it simply to make him think of me sexually. Then I realized that no, I’d said it because I was bonding with the guy. It was a human connection based on something that we all shared, or at least I thought we all shared.

       Turns out, while men are allowed to turn any mentioned orifice into a longwinded vagina metaphor, the most I can do is giggle along like the delicate flower that I am.

      Screw that, man. I'd rather think about sex. That's the reason I started this blog. I want female sexuality to be open, to be proud. I don’t want it to be hiding behind the occasional mildly lewd double-entendre, or the suppressed guffaw at some guy’s nasty euphemism. I want us to make our own jokes, filthy and shameless. I want men and women to talk about getting off on a mutual level, not as though my mentioning my vibrator is a desperate attempt to get you in my pants. I want us all to bond over sexuality rather than women having to toe the virgin/whore line.   

     Oh, and by the way--- you missed one. That beer foam trickling down your chin? Totally begging for a cum joke.