Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Sweet Susan does her best: August 2001

The other day, working at the door of "The closet", Susan stayed with me the whole afternoon. It was 'Feria' and clubs open during daytime for a week. I had the feeling that Susan was attracted to me as much as I was attracted to her. There was my chat up line "I bet you a dinner that you don't have the guts to kiss me". And she did.

Women need an alibi for everything. They need an excuse for anything that could potentially be a mistake and leave them exposed. Like men, they don't want to appear vulnerable (not sexy-vulnerable or cute-vulnerable, but stupid-vulnerable or sickly-vulnerable). You need to give her a good reason why something between you should happen, but not something you or her can think of a good excuse. She needs something OTHERS would think it is a good excuse. Dinner for free in exchange of a snog wasn't too bad.

Think about it, imagine a woman goes to a pub, finds a stranger, snoggs him, grabs his crotch and takes him home, all with a straight face. There is something missing. The general disapproval of the mass demands an alibi. The easiest one is alcohol. If she is drunk is OK for her to assassinate femminity with a japanese sword. If she is sober she would need him to say "I love you" in a way she finds believable (or more importantly, in a way OTHERS find believable).

Note that a sober woman who pretends to be drunk can also get away with murder if she does it well. Also note that there should be some previous attraction for this to happen. You can come up with the best excuse of the whole wide world but she might have even better reasons not to even talk to you.

So there I am with little Susan in our first date. Dinner, like I said, was just an excuse. In our way back we decide to make a stop next to the bridge where that dry river is. Mostly surrounded by eucalyptus trees there is little amount of plants to cover up our little indecencies. With a swift move I undo my zip and there she goes down to please me the best she can. I haven't found many girls who could please me with oral sex and she wasn't going to be amongst the ones who did it as if she mastered the art, but it wasn't bad. In fact, I always appreciated the effort rather than the action itself. It turns me on to see somebody so eager to please me, I find it very flattering.

And why am I there, doing it in the street, you might ask? As I mentioned in a previous post, Spanish people tend to live with their parents for quite a long time. I am no exception, although in my case it is different from any other guy's house. My parents DO allow me to bring girls over and have sex with them. I have my parents approval and I always have the feeling that my dad feels proud of the amount of new faces he sees every now and then. But there are rules; it is ok as long as they can't see or hear anything about my activities and I am taking precautions. Also, no girls past ten o'clock and at this point, today, is already past twelve.

I have the privilege that other people of my generation don't have in my country. I have my bed for sex, while other guys have to do it in their cars or the forest, the beach, etc. And Susan was going to experience the commodities of my bedroom the day after.

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