They use to say that soft porn is boring. Or even worse, that porn for women is a long transparent soup of wedding rings, white dresses or blue lingerie and no action. This is truly boring for men, I can see that. But why the ladies like it then?
Because the fantasy of porn tries to connect the dots of one’s dreams and desires. Men wish to blow things up, whatever that thing would be, just make sure it blows up! So they dream of sexual action where their organ blows up in different ways, shooting its way out of depression. Indeed, after ejaculation, male hormones do refresh the body and bring a new breeze to the mind. The subject starts smiling more often and stops being the grumpy monkey you’ve been looking at for days, wondering why he can’t smile at you. Because he was loaded, that is why! Make sure to unload him as often as possible and amaze yourself at what a good and polite and obliging man you’re having.
But then, again, what’s in it (in sex, I mean) for you? Other than servicing the bad manners out of his head? Which, between us ladies, is bit boring after all: in and out, deep and gag. Boring and sometimes not very pleasant.
We need the foreplay to keep longer than the sex act. We need to be loved and cuddled all the time. When out there with looks and compliments. When in bed with caressing hands and soft words coming from his heart. Petting us for more than a minute (or half a minute?) seems to them like lost time. And then they wonder why aren’t we cooperative? Why is our responsiveness so slow, if at all?
Thank God, I managed to make mine understand all my feelings and, unbelievable, have him enjoy cuddling me for as long as I can afford before another chore will break my spare time. Monday was Valentine’s Day. The chronology of it:
5am – His non cuddling hour. Hard, intense, blowing and ultimately igniting fireworks through my mind with his tongue. He knows his business, I can tell.
6am – Sending kids to school, three of them, successively, because one is in vacation for a week. Then keeping up with chores before noon because he told me, from behind his laptop, that a surprise is waiting for me in the afternoon.
4pm – Done with mothering and housekeeping, I come to cuddle on his shoulder, while he has no better thing to do than working on his laptop. But I don’t mind because his HBO surprise begins with a Sandra Bullock movie: “The Proposal,” immediately followed by “Did You Hear About the Morgans?” with Hugh Grant, then by “17 Again” with Zac Efron and then by “The Ugly Truth,” doesn’t matter with whom. All reruns, I admit. But I loved his present, his way of putting it by doing nothing, buying nothing. He just offered me a long cuddling evening on Valentine’s Day. For a mother of four, this is something to be confined in front of the TV (spewing romantic movies) from 4pm to after 9pm. He managed the kids, in short breaks, because he had to return to me so I can cuddle on him, hear his soft words, feeling happy together.
Next day, he took me out for shopping, bought me a new coffee machine, with two cute twin mugs inside, and the classical “After Eight” chocolate with mint squares, among others. Then he took me back home, where we were alone, so I gave him his blowing hour. I love him, I can say!