Yes, we’re talking about dicks today and I’m here to say that >for me<, IMMA NEED BOTH. The motion of the ocean and the size of the ship matters.
I came to this realization after messing with a guy who is gorgeous on the outside but his weenie left more to be desired when his pants came off.
Don’t get me wrong, he knew how to work it and this is not my first time sexing him but I am always amazed how small his thang is. Shortness I can work with as long as it has girth but he sadly lacks both. And he knows it. But buddy puts in work with his petite pene by creating waves in the pussy by doing splash dives and running starts. I can’t lie, I like his passion and sex ethic so I keep him on my “emergency dick” contact list. He’s back-up when a big dick nigga can’t fall through.
When I first came into the sex game, a young virgin was broken by my ex who was packing. Unlike Lil Kim in “Big Momma Thang“, I was never scared of the dick and threw both sets of lips to it like a real bitch. I was born in it, molded by it. I didn’t see a little dick until I was already a woman, by then it was nothing to me but disappointment.
Weenie Hut Jr packing men provide me with no risks or fear of death. They bring my sex skillz down cause I get too relaxed. There’s no challenge. It’s all HAKUNA MATATA. No worries about accidentally choking on a small penis because it’s barely hitting my uvula. I don’t think about my breathing techniques like I would do with a big one because there’s plenty of room for air to hit my esophagus since there’s minimal blockage. Using my hands is out of the question because they’ll probably emphasize how small the dick is so I resort to using maybe one or two fingers or none at all. To keep it frank, I’m just not as excited.
I’m a creep. I am a part of the “gray sweatpants watchers” so I’m always peeping for a dickprint in some basketball shawts or sweats. Visually, widdle dicks ain’t making the cut. Issa dick or clit? Sometimes I wanna grab him by the dick when it’s big, “If the dick long, nigga I got to frisk it”.
My flower isn’t a total “Rough ‘N’ Tough” Salty Spitoon members only because I’ve let some weenies in but it’s not something I do frequently. They definitely gotta show what that muscle can do!
With 20 minutes left in my break, I decided to sit down on the steps by the building I work at to get some fresh air.
As I sit, minding my business as always, I feel someone approaching me. It’s the old security guard.
“Hey, why are you sitting on the steps?” he inquires. It must be a strange sight to see a millennial, sitting down enjoying the cool Florida breeze with no technology, so I tell him I’m just chillin and enjoying the weather before he has a heart attack.
I’m not blocking anyone’s path so *Joseline voice* WHY IS YOU HERE? I gave him a good enough answer right? He’ll go away now right?
“Are you okay? You’re not upset or anything, are you?”
“I have a chair. I hate to see you sitting on the hard steps”
Can I not mind my business in peace? I sit on the stairs all the time on my breaks, why you in my bidness? Maybe I’m waiting for the weedman to meet me so I can cop my dub. If he sees your white ass around, he’ll think I’m setting him up with the Feds.
After turning down the offer of the chair and answering some more of the top flight security’s pesky questions, he still doesn’t leave me alone. He lingers around me, trying to find another way to start a conversation until he finally gives up and walks back to his station.
Why do men love to invade a woman’s space?
The haters will say “He was just being nice, why you gotta be a bitch?” but in reality, it was another case of a man being a man. I’m not going to go on a rant about how men violate women’s space yet never do that to their male counterparts because there’s enough of that on Twitter.
When a woman is walking by herself or happens to be chilling solo, men feel like it’s an introduction for them to bother you. I guarantee you that with all the things a woman has to do in a day, a man interacting with them is low on the list. Well at least, it is for me. It’s actually a goal to not encounter a man barging his way into my daily life activities, to be honest.
Living in Miami has only made it worse. Around here, it’s like you have to talk down to these men and tell them that you are disgusted with their presence AND the fact that they had the balls to even step to you like you would ever consider them, a mere peasant, as something worth breathing your royal breath in the direction of. I see why they say the women here are bougie. It’s not that they’re bougie, maybe they’re tired of dusty bozos coming up to them.
Even though this scenario wasn’t street harassment, it was just an interruption that I never asked for. I’ve dealt with a lot of street harassment from men who can’t catch a clue. It’s like they need Blue and Steve to draw out a “Stop” sign to let them know not to approach or bother me. Why can’t you catch the clue? I’m avoiding eye contact, I never spoke to you, my replies are minimal, my body language is not opening you to conversation so why is you “psst-ing” me? ISSA CLUE, ISSA CLUE!