A Word to the Wise about Hair Extensions and Sex (part 2)

Woman with classic length hair. (Painting by F...

Woman with classic length hair. (Painting by Franz Xavier Winterhalter, 1805-1873) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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.)

English: Miniature pony for kids to ride at th...

English: Miniature pony for kids to ride at the Feria del Caballo in Texcoco, Mexico State, Mexico (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


The Boxer with 3 Fists (part 4)

Clenched human fist

Clenched human fist (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As you read this, you are probably not distracted by the amazing feelings of approaching climax via oral sex. So you have probably already guessed that it was not a brick after all, but that third fist that was trying to make its presence known.

I am a huge fan of intuition, especially after all the crappy things that I could have avoided if only I’d listened to my gut. I would encourage you to pay attention to messages, both subtle and not so subtle that your inner voice is trying to get to you. Don’t end up like me. Because I was so lost in my world of pleasure I didn’t give full attention to the third fist until it was sitting right in my face, punching me in the bottom lip and threatening to give me a black eye if I didn’t comply with his wishes. When Marco was sure I’d been utterly satisfied, he slid up my body until he was sitting astride my chest. I was pinned immobile beneath him, making his wish my command.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been threatened at gun-point or knife-point. Personally, I can thankfully report that I have not. But when it comes to being threatened by fist…well much to my own chagrin, I have to say that, not only have I lived through it; but it just so happens that it can be quite a surprising turn-on. Like, WHO KNEW?

Admittedly, it was not a TRUE fist, but a huge penis about the size and shape of one, which may make a key difference. Again, because of the altered state of conscious I was in—due to the approaching orgasm I was telling you about—I was in no way ready to confront the THING that nearly attacked me when this man assured himself that I had been thoroughly satisfied. Without so much as a warning, he slides right up into a sitting position: right on my chest! Honestly, that was the only warning I got.