Ilove nasty talk during sex. Unless I'm swallowing someone's pride and joy, or sucking air around a ball gag, I'm an ecstatic fountain of filthy expletives. AND YOU FUCKING LOVE IT, DON'T YOU, FUCKER!? We all have our favorite little phrases and banter..."Fuck that pussy like you paid good money for it!" was mine until I got out of middle school.

But if you run all stupid at the mouth, you can totally ruin everything. Just 'cause the stretchy, over-tanned girl-on-the-box in your cheap, 3-for-one-pornos will squeal and chirrup that she WANTS YOUR ROPEY MAN'S MILK all over her SWEET LITTLE RAISIN!!!!!!! doesn't mean everyone else does. Keep it real, or keep it to yourself.

While I was at school in New York City, I decided to give up sex for a while to GET FOCUSED. I figured I'd be fine getting myself off as needed and just concentrate on school. It worked out great...for a few months.

After seven months or so, I was a little tweaked, to say the least. Masturbation wasn't enough anymore; at that point it actually made me mad. On my last celibate day, my hand was stuffed into my cutoffs, rubbing slick little circles while I did a split in the back of a taxi. I didn't care about the swollen, blotchy driver taking it all in from his greasy rear-view mirror. In my fevered daze, I kind of got off on how revolting he was. I mused in my heat, "Oh, yeah...I bet his belly looks and smells like a runny wheel of parmesan cheese....mmm, cheeeeese!" I was sooo done.

My free cab ride spat me out at my neighborhood bar. I noticed a pretty, long-haired boy sitting alone with a cocky "c'mere" smirk just for me. I bought him a beer. We shared it.

The door to my apartment had barely snicked shut and we were at it, clothes off, tongues out and in, hands and fingers everywhere. We wrecked my room. He took me every way possible, sliding and slamming, and I ate it all up. I demanded for him to FUCKING HURT ME. I came over and over again in sheer revenge against myself. Sweat was pooling between my tits and running from my winking navel while he heaved my legs over my shoulders. It was lovely and violent.

He was all grunts and happy panting. He had barely spoken since we had left the bar earlier. His non-verbalisms were of no concern to me, since I was commanding all possible airspace with my moaning, squeals and "Harder....Oh, my God...HARDER!"s. I was getting royally fucked and cared little for his lack of reply. Looking back on it, he would've fared better to have stayed mute.

He had me from behind when he was ready for his pearly wet finale. I hissed at him to cum, yeah cum all over me....ALL OVER MY ASS!!! C'MON!!! I guess he was a little overexcited at that point, and his mouth unfortunately decided then to shoot off along with his nuts:

"Oh...ooooooo, OH YEAHHHH....HERE COMES THE HOT SAUCE!!!"

Before I even started laughing, he knew he had utterly humiliated himself. It felt like every sperm stopped in mid-launch, turned tail, and marched right back to his nuts with their little white heads hung in shame. My little Glam Stud got BA-HA-HAAAAed out of my apartment and was sent home without cumming. Funny now, yes, but had I not gotten off sufficiently before my little Eyeliner Pirate decided to ruin the moment...I would have beat the snot out of him. He was lucky.

"Fuck me" works great until you and whomever develop your own private code that comes with repeat performances. To spring the latest goofy pet name for your genitalia, sexual act, or anything with someone you barely know is a big no-no,
people. It's insulting, and it could be a detriment to your future sexual encounters. I'm all about creativity, but hold your tongue if you're a moron.....and you know who you are. Put that tongue to better use. There are way yummier things to stuff in your mouth than your big, stupid foot. So shut the fuck up.