2 Inches and 90 Seconds

There I was lying on her bed not even watching the movie I brought over and actually expected us to watch. We had been making out but now most of her clothes were off and I was dining at the Y. Then she flips the script and puts herself on top of me. Sliding down between my legs, she gets the belt, button, zipper, and takes everything down with one tug. She looks as I stand at attention, then looks up at me and says, “my ex-boyfriend was wayyyyy bigger than that.”

What can I say? I’m not 10+ inches straight from the Motherland like her ex who also couldn’t make her cum. But I made her cum, with my mouth, my tongue, my fingers, on top, from behind, against the wall, in the air, clitoral, g-spot, squirting, and multiples. I made her cum until she was sore and couldn’t cum anymore. But I never told her when I went down on her that first night that I saw a gaping black hole. Or how the position she liked where I modified missionary to put her legs together was to get sensation because I couldn’t make contact with her sidewalls. What can I say, size is important.

I was conversing the other day, freak to freak, with a Leo friend who enjoys watching herself have sex in the mirror. :-) Anyways, we had been discussing size and how she had to stop fucking one guy else “he’d ruin [her] for all other men”. She also shared her experiences that “big dick is lazy dick”. Most women I talk to admit it’s the motion that matters more. It seems similar to very attractive women or women with nice curves who often let their bodies do the work and don’t put in much effort. They are sexually lazy. Still there are certain things you can’t do with certain sizes just as the look of a woman or feel of her curves cannot be substituted. I’m not saying it can’t be good. The summation of everything is what determines if it’s quality. Besides, everyone is different and likes different things.

I don’t aspire to be the best. Every woman decides for herself what is best. Where my ex saw my diminutive size, the nearly 40-something Jamaican used to sit there and stare, trying to figure out how my motion allowed me to hit the spot only her 9+ inches ex-boyfriend used to hit. The nearly 40-something Brasilian used to complain I could go “deep and slow” or “short and fast” but not “deep and fast” because it made her bleed. More than one girl has confessed that she expected me to be small and ended up pleasantly surprised. It’s on everyone’s mind the same way men wonder how a woman’s naked breasts are gonna look, what kind of nipples does she have, is her clit an innie or an outie, does she have a pretty one, how good is her technique, and will she spit or swallow.

However, boastful arrogance is unattractive. Ever notice how most boasters never live up to their billing of how good they portray themselves to be? They talk themselves up and it’s just pure let down. Well after I moved past the mental block my ex gave me over my own size, I started to flirt with prospective partners that I was “the best 2 inches and 90 seconds they never had”. I even used to say I would understand if they didn’t want to have sex, which is precisely why I wanted to warn them ahead of time. What I was not so subtly doing was lowering their expectations. If I were honest and told them I was 6-7 inches and possessed the control to cum on demand but preferred to last about 90 minutes with at least 20 minutes of foreplay, they may either not believe me or levy such high expectations that even I could never meet.

While I have definitely gotten better with age, the equipment performed for a longer duration and more frequently when I was younger. I don’t start to hit my real stride until about the 10th time we do it when I become more familiar with her and what she likes. But it’s easy to take a wrong step before then and never get to 10. That handful of women I did get past 10 with, we became much more emotionally involved and there still exists an ease and familiarity with each other today even though the sex has ceased. Sex is always better with someone you really care about because it’s much more meaningful. When you truly love someone, you don’t count the orgasms, need to do the crazy positions, or levy these expectations. It has to be good enough to satisfy your desire to fully give of yourselves, unite, and enjoy the ride. Otherwise, if it’s not love then 2 inches and 90 seconds simply isn’t going to get the job done.



*Originally posted on Lovemionline.com on March 22, 2010.

http://www.lovemionline.com/index.php/RuMANating-Intercourse/penis-size-sex.html

Men’s Locker Room Talk

Some men are dogs. They’re the loudest, the most active, the ones women always meet because they never stop trying. They make a noisy commotion and demand your attention. We all know the barking dog on the corner before we see the great, stable, well-composed man walking with focus and determination towards positive responsibility. If you don’t know who you are or what you want, you will succumb to their distraction and end up captivated by their pompous circumstance.

My future best man and I were comparing notes over a few bottles of Chimay. A lot of women complain they want a great man, but when a great man comes into their life, they don’t know how to treat him properly. They look for and expect him to be like the men in their past that treated them poorly. So they end up treating him like all of those other assholes that came before. They fail to understand and appreciate the efforts and actions of a good man. Sometimes they’re too busy stuck in their own mind worrying – if, when, and how he’s going to do bad - in essence creating a culture where it encourages men to do bad because that’s the expectation of them.

Is it because women constantly see bad men on TV and in movies? Is it the early experiences with young boys who don’t know who they are or what they want? Men often suspect women don’t know how to recognize a good man because they’ve never had one in their life. Well great men do exist, and they’re everywhere. Look past the dogs and you can see them walking around feeling the good they do goes unacknowledged, unappreciated, and overlooked by women.

After a horrible personal experience, the best advice I ever received was “don’t take out on the next one what the last one did to you.” That’s difficult when most women seem to judge you based upon the merits of the men who preceded us. We learn to expect and assume the worst about women, sometimes it’s the only way we can protect ourselves, even if that makes us players. When it’s finally over between us, we want you to call us when the next guy is about to make you orgasm because we want that harsh truth so that we can hate you for it and finally move on to someone better. If I’m making a mountain out of a molehill, I’d rather make it a mountain than make it a molehill and have it be a mountain.

So where are great men hiding? With their friends and their family. They don’t run around parties looking to pick up women. They are focused with good jobs, building a career, knowing that cars and clothes are material things that lack substance. When they go out, they’re just as suspicious of you as you are of them. They’re building towards positivity, wanting a deeper connection in a serious relationship. They don’t want headaches and they don’t want games. If you’re dating a few different men, having your fun while hoping something great comes along, they won’t meet you because you’re accepting of any male attention that comes your way and dogs are always better at getting your attention.

I know this because I’ve lived on both sides of the fence. I’ve been hurt when women have confessed to dating around, not believed me that I wasn’t seeing anyone else, dated me as a distraction from the guy in their bed last week, told me not to worry about the text messages from “Roger from BX” and “Al from BK” at 2 AM while I’m inside her, seen Luis’ text about his missing her kisses while I get her a glass of water after the fact, even been right next to her when the guys are calling to setup first dates. A great friend of mine and I realized it’s better to not care at all. It’s easier, you don’t get hurt, and you end up with more options.

I know the correct course of action to build towards is if a woman cannot come at me properly, treating me with respect, care, consideration and is willing to compromise, then she is not deserving of my time, my effort, or my energy. Unfortunately, you get hurt being the nice, good guy. Just look at me. One minute I’m focused on being good and rising about these girls who play games, and the next minute I’m convincing myself it’s better to stop hurting and not care. To negotiate with my boy the next step in the evolution of our friendship however grimey. How we should get with the same chick at the same time and it’s ok if our balls touch. Chances are that girl will end up someone’s wife, maybe even ours, and that hurts even more. But if we do it, it’s because we stopped caring, and that makes all the difference.



*Originally posted on Lovemionline.com on March 8, 2010.

http://www.lovemionline.com/index.php/RuMANating-Intercourse/dogs-find-good-men.html

Confessions of a Popcorn Player

“You’re not single because you have options” my friend told me. Well, then I haven't been single since puberty. I have an ex that still calls to “hang out” even though more time has passed since we ended than we spent as a couple. With past flames like this and even some new prospects, I've been contemplating my course of action as a single man and realized: it’s been 10 years since my high school sweetheart and first love began, but I’ve been completely single and unattached (read: no booty calls) for only 10 of those months. Those 10 months came in the form of a 3 month “drought” following a split, a 5 month “break” to get over that bad split, and the current 2 month “hiatus”. Outside of those times, I’ve never gone more than about a month without getting some skin. In past months I'd even rotated through the current roster with each getting their own weekend. Maybe I should call Rachel, Kalika, Jamie, or Holly and ask what rehab Tiger checked into?

I'm not a bad guy by any stretch. I just get trapped in my own world and simply choose not to care. Some people call it jaded, but there's always a moment of conscious choice when you know the positive path and choose to go the other way. Mine has always involved my utterance of the phrase, “fuck it”. It was Mae West who said, “When I'm good, I'm very good. When I'm bad, I'm better.” Don't get me wrong, these girls knew the drill. Nothing more was ever promised and they even knew about some of the others and called me anyways. I don't think for one second that I was their only option either. I'm not saying I didn't hurt them, because I did, but I also cared about them more than I let on. I knew I didn't want to be with them long term, but couldn't say that. The reason you decide to have sex with someone isn't always the same reason you continue to have sex with them.

Gallivanting around with different women actually drains me. These past few years, I have preferred not to date because when I did, more than half ended with me in her bed that night and the rest had me there by the end of that first week. My problem: if I don't have a reason to say “no”, then I don't. Believe it or not, I prefer faithful relationships but I can accept casual. I love to cuddle in bed all morning. The best is to wake up to her laying there watching you sleep. She flashes a smile, goes in for a kiss, and the rest is how the magic happens. When you wake up to your casual fling staring, you can't help but wonder, “What the hell are you looking at!?!”

Like most men of substance, I want more than just sex. Naturally, my male friends have been after me to rebound. It does help get over unrequited love and believe me, I have some quality opportunities. But rather than get involved, I decided it's best to take a hiatus and focus on developing myself. If I could mix parts of all the girls I've been with, I'd have an amazing woman, perfect even, but none alone were the one for me. If great came along tomorrow, how many of us are truly ready and can actually put in the work necessary to sustain a great relationship? Being with that person yet having to put your phone on silent to avoid explaining a call or text message at 4 AM doesn't promote the idea that's what you ultimately want.

Life is all about perspective. I feel a hiatus is exactly what I need. But some see me as heartbroken and forlorn from my past failures, needing time to rebuild myself. The way I talk, others wonder if I'm keeping uninvolved in the hopes the last one realizes my greatness and returns. A friend questioned if I was jaded at yet another failure and perhaps I'm tired of getting hurt. I joke it'll be 6 months penance for my sins. My truth is I want to focus on other, more important things and simply don't want or need a woman in my life right now. Months from now, when my hiatus ends I know I will be better prepared to meet and create something great.

Dating, like life, has to do with free will. I believe things really do happen for a reason. Fate is the universe conspiring to send people into our lives to teach us lessons we need to learn, if we're able to truly listen. But in the end, fate only brings you so far and we each have to choose to ride on the wings of destiny.



*Originally posted on Lovemionline.com on February 22, 2010.

http://www.lovemionline.com/index.php/RuMANating-Intercourse/man-confessions-sex-love.html

A Day to Remember to Feel Special

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

The Night I Met Sujeiry

Once upon a time I had morals, values, and was a picky SOB who refused to settle for anything less than what I wanted. The dating world has taught me different. One summer night, my best friend, who happens to be the life of any party, was having his nearly 30th birthday party in NYC. I booked a hotel nearby to get the festivities started early. Of course I invited the 20-something Colombiana Sagittarian I had started messing around with a few weeks prior. Only problem is the prior weekend I had hosted a BBQ with my best friend, the Colombiana, and the nearly 40 year old Jamaican I had been with all spring and would still kick it with from time to time. Of course it's my fault for inviting my current and past to the same BBQ, but they both separately talked of wanting to do a 3some with me so I figured I'd do the dumb thing and try and force it. I knew I didn't care so I even went ahead and told them about each other. Well it was a bit awkward when they caught hurt feelings, naturally, and then my friend brazenly invited the Jamaican down to his party. She of course invited herself to stay in the room with the Colombiana and me, not at all to the preference of the Colombiana. Damn those controlling Aries.

After a week of insisting another room be booked, an awkward drive to NYC with both ensued, and a dinner fight followed. This of course all set up the bar scene. While on a holiday in Puerto Rico, I had mistakenly drunk dialed and invited an old fling from upstate who kept insisting I look her up in the city now that she was single again. Top it all off and there was a Haitian virgin coming late who went to the same college as me, and with whom I had been casually flirting from a distance. Thankfully, I was sure to tell the Haitian when she arrived that I was "all over the place" and it would be best if we stayed friends. The thing I must stress about all of this is that in my mental mindset I simply did not care about any of them or myself for that matter. When you get hurt enough and become jaded, you get to a point where you find it better not to care and just do without thinking.

So a few hours of drinking in, we trek to the bar party with the Colombiana, Jamaican, and a dozen others in tow. Meanwhile, the old fling has been blowing up my phone asking for directions and arrival time. We arrive and I begin what ends up being my complete and total ignoring of the Colombiana for the entire night and the Jamaican for the hour she was there before leaving to enjoy other NYC nightlife. An hour in, I remember the old fling was waiting outside and, to my surprise, she was still there, waiting. 2 years prior, I had broken things off with her real quick cause I noticed signs of an addictive personality and the word "clingy" may have been under her yearbook accolades. As payback to my best friend and knowing his knack with people, I brushed her off onto him for the night, only talking to her again when she left. She finally got the hint and has left me alone ever since. Mission accomplished on that front.

I hung with friends most of the night until “she” walked in. “She” being the young 20-something Dominican, Aries yet again, that I noticed from across the bar and around the corner. Believe it or not, I'm not one of those typical male types who chase skirt and will sleep with anything. But I was instantly fixated on her in a way that's only happened 4 times in more than a decade, 2 of those being my 2 ex-girlfriends of 3 years apiece eons ago, and hadn't happened in almost 3 years. Even liquid courage wouldn't help me approach her because I'd had far too much liquid to have any real courage. So a married Dominican friend pushed me towards my Godsend, complete with her own set of wings ordering Alabama Slammers. That’s when I bumped into Sujeiry. God knows what I said to her to let me write this story for her website, but somehow it happened. Sujeiry has been a Godsend by your very reading this, but alas she was not the “she” in question I was stumbling towards, probably to her benefit and my reputation given my then mental state.

Things didn't click at all with Miss Alabama, it didn't help that I was beyond gone off Johnny. But somehow, from my recollection, I was uncharacteristically persistent and annoying, even telling off some bar patron I deemed lesser who was talking to her. Still she gave me her real cell number, definitely helped by her being friends with my best friend’s sister. It didn't click between us until a few months later, by then she admitted having turned single that week of the party after a horrible experience and had already dated another guy in the interim. Those few months we spent together were fast and furious, but utter bliss. I fell for her like I'd never fallen for a woman before, especially in that short an amount of time. From my first time meeting with her, I dropped all my side acts, focused the bulk of my time, and hung on her every word. No 3 day rule, no waiting, no games, no lies, no bullshit. I knew it was not an act or an effort because I connected with her in a way I never connect with almost every other woman I meet. I even remember having that crazy feeling in the car before I left that first weekend, the one of just knowing. Problem is if you're not whole when you fall, then you're likely to fall the wrong way. She had baggage, I had issues, and things fizzled with miscommunication, mistrust, and a singular bad mistake on my part to get exceedingly drunk waiting hours upon hours for her to arrive on NYE when I ended up swapping info with a cute albeit possibly anorexic friend of friend so I could send her travel advice when she visited her unmentioned boyfriend down under. Women’s intuition is too keen to discredit and despite coming as drunkenly clean as was possible, she split within 15 minutes, record time. Fate it seems is not without a sense of irony.

Now that everything has played out, the one I cared about most and treated the best doesn't want contact with me. I recently sent apologies to the other two who quickly accepted and requested for me to keep in touch and visit them soon. Requests I'm not interested in honoring. It really amazes me how women seem to involve themselves more readily with men who act like complete assholes, yet reject and deny the men who want to treat them with the utmost respect but don’t always get things right the first time. Karma can be a bitch, but it can also be a great teacher. I'm unabashedly single with my head back on straight and my mind focused on staying uninvolved so I can get my life on track to where I want it to be before I hit the big 30. Whenever I happen to fall again, hopefully I'll have put in the work to be much more whole and fall the right way, with her falling right next to me.



*Originally posted on Lovemionline.com on January 25, 2010.

http://www.lovemionline.com/index.php/RuMANating-Intercourse/man-sex-player

To Love, Or To Possess?

“It’s all yours”, she used to say. Over and over, every time she’d volunteer that tidbit about how every little thing I liked about her was all mine. Until one day, it wasn’t. Of course by then I’d digressed in my love to see and believe her to be mine, as if I was somehow her owner and she mine. Looking back, I can only surmise how misguided or uninformed I truly was in my blissfully unaware state of “love”. Or maybe not?

Some time ago I sat down to argue the finer points with a woman I had been involved with for give or take 3 months. It boiled down to my feeling stifled at her seeming wanton desire, whether intended or unbeknownst, to plan or control every little detail and my unyielding and overreaching aim to let things lie where they fall and not get obsessed with the specifics. As she argued the necessity of having and following a plan, I found it all too familiar. I tried to explain: I had decided months prior to ever meeting her to stop my incorrigible trend of over-planning well everything and take the time to step back from my plans and actually experience and enjoy them, taking things as they come. That’s when I heard it from her, “Well, that’s just not what I like or want with MY man. I want to take care of MY man and I feel more comfortable sticking to MY plan.” That summed up the control issue, the fight, and the relationship. She wanted me as her possession and not as my own person. Not literally of course, but it is how I felt then. So I sufficiently wrapped things up and left her with my newfound truism: why is it that we often seek to possess what we love?

How often have we each done it? We see something, we fall in love, and we have to make it ours. A man, a woman, a house, a car, a dress…well you get the idea. It’s in our thoughts, in our language, and in our actions; we just don’t always notice it.

More than a few times I’ve discussed with my female friends how a man of interest is good overall, but will need a few “tweaks.” On occasion I even get to play devil’s advocate when they decide to take on a project and try to educate and shape their man. I agree everyone needs work, but I point out the thin line of treating people we care about as our own with an air of ownership and entitlement and allowing for that person’s change to come about of their own volition.

Men are guilty as well. Look at the double standard we have in our society with regard to number of partners. Often men prefer women with lower numbers because then we know she’s much more ours than someone else’s. This way we know her mileage, her history, and can sit safe at night knowing with some assurances that our ownership stake in her will be worth our while.

To love should not be to possess. It’s not about how that person is ours, or some competitive angle that we know or deserve them more than another person because of our past together. We should accept that we cannot and should not possess over the people we love. We should let them go, allow them to be free to make the decisions they feel will bring them the most happiness. After all, doesn’t happiness matter more in life than possession? Isn’t that what we truly seek and hope for? It’s true they may not choose us, and it sucks when that happens, God do I know that. But in the end, it’s healthier for us because it enables us to love more freely. I think fear inhibits us from doing this. Fear of losing something and someone that we never really owned to begin with. Of course we want to protect those we love, but at the cost of their happiness and ultimately ours just so we can feel the security that comes from this false sense of ownership?



*Originally posted on Lovemionline.com on September 7, 2009.

http://www.lovemionline.com/index.php/Men-Speak/control.html

Lovemionline - RuMANating Intercourse

http://www.lovemionline.com/index.php/RuMANating-Intercourse

Timothy is a fan of love, knows some things about sex, can understand relationships, and is full of thoughts and ideas along with a bevy of life experiences that you couldn't script if you wanted to.