Recently, much to my baffled delight, i discovered myself perched on a washer being energetically fingered with a human being male.

Well! It was an appealing (and enthusiastically consented-to) situation, perhaps maybe not minimum of most because

1. I will be a(ok that is lesbian ok, I’m bisexual, but as my hilarious and stunning freshman roommate states, “Reina. Guys will likely not make an effort to have intercourse they look over you calling yourself a lesbian in publications. to you if” To which we state: The ones that are creepy!), and
2. I became on an automatic washer.

Much more interesting: this specific peoples male had read a bit of mine on intimate ethics, hookup culture, and vulnerability, in which he had some concerns.

Particularly: Why on the planet can you keep in touch with a chick you fucked the early morning after? Does not this just make shit more awkward for everyone?

I think that my pussy is really a diplomat, distributing feminism wherever she goes. Properly, and hands being duly removed from my vagina, we assumed our roles across the dryer/campfire. Sharing time!

To your smart-asses noting you know, having sex: Sexuality is discursive, bitches that I prefer talking about sex to.

the main topics the hour: No strings connected intercourse. read more →