One Swallow, What Summer Already?
NB: ADULT CONTENT
Speaking of being sucked dry, E@L must meet some of these female bloggers Indy seems to attract. The Swallowers.
The last time anyone... Nah, he's not telling.
Seriously, once again this jumped-up JGE guy has really pissed E@L off. If E@L had raised this issue he repeats (refer to an earlier topic of Indy's, about pubic shaving - every female blogger says they do THAT too), he'd be thought of universally as your typical sleazy, dirty, sex-obsessed male with a one-track mind, that track running unswervingly into the gutter. OK so that's what he's generally thought of anyway, but you know what he means. It would be considered confirmation.
Indy raises a topic about his predilection for those deft fellatrices who degustate (degustibus non disputandum: "swallowers are better, no question") - until recently an illegal act in Singapore, still so amongst male homosexuals - and here he is yet again to judge by the comments, bathing in feminine accolades like some freaking pseudo-Cosmo super-columnist demonstrating how his agile finger is yet again firmly stroking the warm pulsing parts of modern women (bloggers anyway) and the issues that concern them, so much so that he's pulling out of the closet all these seminal protein freaks who claim to enjoy the filminess of prostatic fluid coating their taste-buds for the next twenty minutes as their man drifts off to sleep...
As Steph said in Indy's comments, it seems ALL female bloggers are swallowers! Or did she say all swallowers are female bloggers?
Anyway, it just goes to show, doesn't it peoples? that you can meet people and talk with them and work with them, but you just can't tell what private evils lurk in the hidden sexual heart of humanity's darkest places. "No-one knows what goes on behind closed doors", as Loretta Lynn corroborated.
- The sweet but incompetent young grrrl by the office photocopier may secretly be a mixed-up demanding submissive/dominatrice with privately and uncomfortably ever-arousing piercings and chains tracking around her hot and hard, sweetly scarred body under that outwardly demure outfit, and ready to pandy your butt for $500 an hour.
- The trousers of mild Mr Wilson, the dull accountant who is forever adjusting his tackle, may harbour a semper-priapic insatiable monster cock with which he turkey-slaps his wife to awaken her for yet another bout of stretchingly satisfying shagging, four times a night.
- 30 year old Brian, the socially awkward IT geek, may be that salacious and flirty "ThongGrrrl14" you've been on the singles sex-chat-room with, trying to convince "her" to come out for a coffee with you for the past three weeks, like in Closer, like in Hard Candy. And you deserve whatever she gives you... (NB: possible screening of Hard Candy at E@L's place in near future if anyone is interested -- I think it is banned in Singapore! OK, in which case he won't show it, right?)
- This efficient supermum housewife, PHD graduate in politics, may write pronography between writing theses and changing nappies.
- That dizzy drunk but well-connected socialite dame maybe be a macabre murderess given to bisecting and disembowelling porn-actresses and hookers who remind her of her goth-lolita lesbian daughter... Oops, did I just give away the ending of The Black Dahlia? Sorry. Like you haven't read the brilliant book already or seen the average movie...
Back to Indy...
Now ladies, E@L KNOWS this man. He even lays claim to sometimes being semi-misquoted as one of those partially mythical "Boys In The Pub", but not on this occasion.
Let E@L tell you about Indy - not only is he "shallow, insensitive and sexually inconsiderate", a she admits, HE is your typical sleazy, dirty sex-obsessed male with a one-track mind, that track running unswervingly into the gutter, particularly that Holland Village gutter outside WalaWala.
In other words, he is definitely NOT a nice guy! (OK he's actually a reasonably OK guy, but don't tell him that! But we have a week up our sleeves while he is not blogging so we can say what we like!)
Meanwhile, on the issue that he raised, E@L would like to say two things:
a) one swallow does not a good girlfriend make (unless she also jams her index finger all the way up your clister for an eye-watering prostate massage just as you peak - now *she's* a keeper, eh TrailingSpouse? - E@L notices you haven't blogged about THAT story yet)...
b) E@L's mate Bruce confided that when HE ejaculates (all too rarely these days), for those few seconds Pink Floyd's momentary lapse of reason applies and he could be depositing his thimble-full anywhere: anatomically, geographically, publicly, privately, bestially, faunally, into the boles of trees (to quote Michel Tournier's brilliant Friday)... he doesn't seem to care.
Such is the nature of dopamine.
He couldn't give a fuck if she (presuming it's a human female) swallows or not, his fun is all over with already, instantly he is off the boil. She could 'cocktail' (o-ho!) her champagne with it for all he cares (cf; Emmanuelle II).
Of course, now that he is HIV+ve, Bruce insists on using a condom for all sexual activities, including porning on the internet alone as a precaution against viruses. Ha ha. He confided in a personal moment to E@L that he doesn't expect chicks to "deep throat" him either, as he once had to attend to a lady's blood-nose, caused by her slamming her face into his pubic bone well before his mushroom had reachd anywhere near her gag reflex... Must be a thrill, but unless he finds someone with maxillary hypoplasia, with his short and thick weapon, he's never going to find out.
What DID used to concern him (Bruce) while he was getting orally serviced is that *immediately after* the magical few seconds during which the most stunningly beautiful woman in the world is delivering him one of his life's ultimate pleasures, he gets distracted -- and somehow she ducks out of the room without him noticing to be replaced by an ageing, pock-faced, yellow-toothed Filipino or Thai hooker with small, child-emptied breasts, stretchmarks AND a C-section scar who has a mouthful of his splooge (did they do the swap thing when he wasn't watching?) and who then, yep, as mentioned, rushes into the toilet to noisily hawk up any remaining oral vestiges of ejaculate, gargle repeatedly and then vigorously brush her teeth for 5 minutes using HIS toothbrush. Usually, the classier dames will return with a warm wet towel to clean him up, hoping for an extra tip. He may even be asleep by this stage.
No question of a post-climactic snog, no question of him tonguing the last few drops from her tonsils. That's way too gay, and besides this one's not pretty enough to kiss.
His first end-of-sex reaction is to reach for his wallet. And no, he doesn't want to exchange phone numbers.
Q: What's the first thing an Expat does after sex?
A: Reach for his wallet.
All this talk of swallows makes E@L dream of summer here in Canada.
OTHER MONKEYS SAID
Hilarious post. You charming charming man!
Will be in Singapore next week, will you be back from Montreal by then?
Fret not, I'd have given you the same answer as I did Indy.
oh my! i should have read this post before i posted earlier...LOL...VPS is right..you are hilarious!! darlin, i'd buy you a drink! *w*
VPS - indeed, I'll be home Monday and in town all week.
Mia - I am but a fretted instrument in your skilled hands, or other anatomical structure...
Sav - did you delete the earlier comment that this one refers to? Now everybody is gonna get confused when I say that I'll meet you in New York for a Mint Julep on Saturday evening before my 18h40m flight... Can't make to Georgia on a 5 hour stop-over...
p.s. due to E@L's International Date Line committments, Sunday has been cancelled.
Darn! I've got plans for Sunday
Oh man, this is so hilarious, i bursted out laughing and managed to knock my coffee over in that process.
Can i ehem try flirting with you again?
Meet up when ya back, have a safe flight back. :)
The good thing about blogging what I blog about is that almost nobody who reads me has read the books I have read so I get to plagiarise/mimic-with-respect enormously and get away with it.
Mia - Sunday's cancellation is a personal affair. Like the sun going backwards over the plain of wherever-in-the-bible, it only happened to those who were there.
I'll be in Singapore from the 1st till the 3rd of February. Only 3 days. Boo.
Will email you about meeting up.