Mr. Incredicock

I believe in giving credit where credit is due. This outrageous temptation turned out to be the most fabulous idea and I look smug today because it has been years since I’ve been so satisfied. I’m pretty sure my eyes are a lighter shade of green and I feel muscles in my spine I didn’t know existed.

I’m an erectile dysfunction survivor.  I’m a nice girl, so I’ve always made the most of a difficult situation but it just sucks. I’ll be blunt; in my experience the closer they get to 40, the softer their dick.

I wish there were a way to sugar coat it, but I’ve had to try to swallow that soft, disappointing noodle, too many times and for the record, making him feel better about it gets really old, really fast. It’s his job to handle things on his end and if he doesn’t?

Peace out of that party, girlfriend..because good Lord in the morning…

You are missing out on some earth-shattering orgasms. I sure was. My favorite new superhero had to listen to me scream again and again all night.  I lost count at 8 and that was early.  God love him, he’s probably half-deaf today because I had no idea that his spectacular, titanium dick existed.

It does exist… and every woman needs one. Post haste.

Women go through all sorts of invasive shit in order to have safe sex. The least men can do is come prepared for battle. I feel bad for any man struggling with getting or keeping it up, but there are all sorts of solutions and it shouldn’t be our job to handle that end of things.

I felt like I was drowning in a sea of semi flaccid dick, when a functioning one showed up to remind me that not all men are created equal.

I feel like sewing him a goddamn cape.


My Solid Homie

You know when you just SHOULDN’T? When you’re faced with an outrageous temptation and that little voice in the back of your head says:

“Oh no. No, no, no. Absolutely NOT!”

Yet that voice is just quiet enough that you can ignore it?

That was my night last night. I have a few cardinal rules that I do not break. Or didn’t use to break. Fuck.

I was talking to a friend of mine last night and we were commiserating about the sad state of our respective love lives. Living in a small town leaves you with a limited amount of options and when you start eliminating some of them because of past relationships, etc… the pool shrinks to a very small puddle. This particular friend of mine is permanently friend zoned. Off limits.


Suffice it to say… things have changed.

I read a text from him and swallowed hard.

SH- And if I’m certain, I believe you haven’t said no…


I set my phone down, walked outside and prayed the cold air would knock some sense into me.

No luck. I was still tempted. Could it really be that easy? I’ve never really had a FWB. At this point in my life though, I do not want a boyfriend or anything that resembles it. I do however, want to get laid regularly. Sadly… the two are generally a package deal.

Or so I thought.

J- Are we seriously considering this?

SH- I’ll be there in 30.

Yes, we’re way past considering. It’s go time. I ran to the shower, jumped in and slid into the shelf. Yeouch. I shaved my left thigh too quickly and felt the hot sting of the shower on fresh razor burn. Fuck. What the fuck am I thinking? This is a cardinal sin. The kind you have to write to the Pope about.

But I do have those cute new purple panties… and no really good reason to leave them sitting in the drawer.

And then I wait. Heart pounding, cheeks flushed and my mind racing… until I hear his car pull in and his footsteps to my door. Gulp. I’m awkward. This could be awkward as fuck. Eeeeek. Damn Victoria’s Secret and these Jezebel panties.

Or not.

Something fabulous happens when it’s just about need and not junked up with a bunch of expectation and feelings. Don’t get me wrong- I adore him, but this isn’t about that.

This has everything to do with satisfaction on demand. Like a glorified dick delivery service.

Thanks be to God… or really… my fabulous Solid Homie.