if he hit it right I'ma take him on a flight in my choppa, drop him off at the mall let him buy some J's let him shop-a

I was recently driving back from a bachelorette weekend away with some of my fave bitties.  Apparently we had officially reached "adult life" because we had already woken up, packed our shit, chugged some Pedialyte (you're welcome for the hangover-saving tip!  I also just realized that I am def not an adult if I'm drinking a baby bev to avoid hangovers post binge drinking), and were on the road.  

While we were feeling quite surprisingly alive since we had responsibly hydrated and politely declined 1am tequila shots, I will speak for myself in that I felt rather grubby and sleepy.  After spending a sweaty night in a sticky-floored bar, scream singing to 90s alternative jams (that none of the other kiddos in the bar knew the words to... insert eye roll here), I needed at least a shower, but ideally a long tub soak, bath bomb, and clay face mask.

And then to slide into a clean warm bed for an afternoon nap.  Nah mean?

I unintentionally and begrudgingly said out loud, "ugh, the boo is gonna wanna have sex when I get home."

And let me be very very clear here - it's not that I did not want to have sex -- I didn't not want to feel close and connected to him (especially after a weekend away), or experience pleasure, etc. etc.  It was moreso that I felt icky and drained, that I was afraid I wouldn't be as present as I'd like to be, that I'd be distracted by my own funk, and that I wanted to bring my best self to the experience -- which for me means not a smelly, cranky AF bitch because she's sleepy.  

The girls both agreed, that given our current status and context, they were in more desire of a shower and nap before they were in desire of sex. 

"Unless he gives me a back massage -- then I'd let him slip it in me."

The girls agreed again!  If our extremely loving, charming, and affectionate partners were to assertively come at us with raging boners and frisky fingers, we were gonna want to shut it down.  

Alternatively, if they were to approach us more tenderly, with a less... sexually explicit?... aggressive?...technique, they would likely be more "successful" in their venture.

rub my back not my clit

In my experience, this is something I've seen lovers who don't have a vulva (including a vagina and clitoris) struggle with.  I can't tell you how many lovers who were trying to seduce me or turn me on went so quickly to my genitals, without exploring other parts of my body beforehand.

Let's at least thank sweet baby Jesus some of them knew where the clitoris was though!  We're making progress, people!

And truth be told, I can't tell you any single time my boo has given me a back rub that did not end in his own ejaculation.  

Massaging, rubbing, and other non-inherently sexual touch have a proven effect on brain waves and blood pressure.  They make the recipient feel more relaxed, less stressed, and more cared for.  Typically, these factors are positively correlated with increased feelings of desire -- particularly (although not always or only) in women.  No wonder!

I would guess that the immediate zoom of hands to clitoris is at least in part an effect of pornography, which while it has both it benefits and detriments, typically depicts some less-than-realistic portrayals of desire and pleasure (remember, they are getting paid to ACT).

So the next time you want to get your lady in the mood, grab some oils or even some lube (silicone will stay slippery for a long time!), and rub her down.  

Um, then go for the clit.  I'm not saying to neglect the clit.  DEAR GOD I'M NOT SAYING TO IGNORE THE CLIT!  

colby zongol
 

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