cocks are like snowflakes

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I really love sex. And cocks. And cocks are like snowflakes. Not the current colloquial definition, I mean actual snowflakes. The natural phenomena. Each so special and unique. Every single one different and beautiful.

Well, no. They aren’t all beautiful. Some are actually ugly. Some weird. Some are so mind numbingly average and boring you think they’re made in a factory in China. But those perfect, gorgeous, really beautiful ones. Oh, I remember those. each and every one.

And when one fits. Perfectly. That is better than finding perfect fitting jeans! Perfect fitting jeans are always a dream come true but jeans never make you come.

When it’s not a perfect fit sex can still be good.  Very good even. Sure. But that leap to epic, mind-blowing, can’t stop thinking about it, want them all the time sex, that really takes a special combination of perfect fit, off the charts chemistry, matching libidos and sexual “interests” if you will, as well as meshing personalities and reciprocity. When that happens it is the best. The BEST!

Of course, I’m talking about he who shall not be written about. Ugh.

Of course there was Squirrel Face. With the magic cock. An absolute orgasm machine. There was another one with that same perfect geometry to his cock, the same sucker punch, out of nowhere, no build up, just BAM! Orgasm. After orgasm. After orgasm. Uh.

Don’t get me wrong. Those were great. Amazing! But. That chemistry I’m missing hasn’t been matched by anyone in a long time. If ever.  It’s more than orgasms. It’s feeling like I become my most natural and animal self, just immersed in pleasure, giving and receiving pleasure for no other reason than pleasure. No self consciousness or insecurities. No sense of not being good enough. No battle for having my needs met. He knows what I want and need. He listens. He gives me pleasure and nothing else. And I him. It’s fucking perfect.

Why would anyone just “opt out” of that?

WHY?

I am gratefully meeting other people. It’s great. And when I’m with someone I don’t think about Benedude Comebacktome at all. But when I’m alone. I can’t get him out of my mind.

That chemistry just melts my fears, anxieties, worries, all of it just falls away. It’s a release in so many different ways. I’ve had a really terrible past few years. Almost 3 years of celibacy was the tip of the iceberg. I’ve been lonely and terrified and struggling and wanting something to give me some relief. Even if it’s temporary. Even if it’s just sex. And to find it and have it be turned down because he needs to “opt out” is just so fucking typical. Shit has never worked out for me dating wise. And I can’t even make a fucking fuck buddy thing work. With my perfect cock-flake cunt-mate. I don’t know if we’d make a relationship work, he’s so distant and at arm’s length I don’t have nearly enough information for that, but we are perfect sexual partners. Fuck-mates.

I even have someone else to be a little bit excited about. And I am. But damn. That one snowflake.

I really set out to just write about all the cocks I’ve loved before. But fuck. He highjacked my mind.

But now I’m singing “All the cocks I’ve loved before” to the tune of “All the girls I’ve loved before”  & that’s pure gold, right there.

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