My friend, Cheryl told me that this friend of hers (WHO SHALL REMAIN NAMELESS) lost some of her extensions while in the act of coitus. Hah! Frankly, I don’t understand how Cheryl can even really BE a friend to someone who obviously doesn’t care that much for me…but anyway, this is not about Cheryl, it’s about her “friend.”
Long story short (or should I say, long hair suddenly short!) she was doing the nasty with this guy she’d seen at a club and whom she’d managed to somehow impress. Too bad it was her fake 22-inch Indian Remi hair that caught his eye. It was both the beginning and the end of their one night stand.
According to Cheryl, her friend kept trying to guide his hands elsewhere when he kept attempting to get his hands in her hair during passionate kisses. Instead of foreplay it was more like a game of swat the pesky fly as she kept batting his hands away.
Finally, they began actual sex, much to her relief. She felt that she had successfully diverted his attention away from her hair on to other, more important things. Even though he protested, she reached for the lamp and gratefully cut off the light. While she was on her back, she felt relatively safe.
When she was on top, she felt in control; but she still had to sometimes keep swatting his hands away.
Once he got her from the back, all hope was gone. While doing it to her doggie-style, he smashed her face down into the pillows in front of her and grabbed her wrists behind her back. Her happy pleasure at this cool trick of turning doggie-style into pony-style lasted only a minute. Faster than the blink of an eye, he had both her tiny wrists in one of his huge fists and had decided to use her hair as the reigns, I guess. Because with his other hand he grabbed a fist full of hair and started yanking in rhythm with his thrusts.
As many guys have been known to do, he mistook her yelps of pain and screams of protest and bucking and thrusting as positive signs of pleasure. He was thrilled that she was as excited and close to climax as he was. And just as most guys think, he thought that the best thing would be to keep doing everything he was doing, only harder and faster.
Folks, you can see where this is going. There’s no need to prolong the announcement of the inevitable: Yes, he came. He exploded into her and was completely oblivious to the fact that the “reigns” had become particularly loose in some places and had come completely unattached at other places on his “pony.”
So, what have we learned here? Easy: You can lead an ugly pony to the bedroom, but you can’t be certain til afterward that he won’t go bald during sex. (adapted from an older version of the adage about leading a horse to water, but changed to make it more appropriate for this post.)
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