Typical Thursday, I am working away disgruntledly when “Buzzz” my man hits me up over text. What can this be? A confession of his unwavering love for me? Exotic plans to sweep me to a far-off land? No, it’s him telling me about a conversation that he is having with his Daddy about our sex life.
Why would you share such things?! I would be mortified if papa bear knew that I even had a sexual thought. To this day I'm not even sure that he knows I have had sex despite being the proud mama of two.
But my man is not like me. He is standing on top of his mountain DUMPING tea like it is the revolution. Then Chatty Cathy decides to share that he only makes me cum orally. Firmly solidifying that I can never see his Daddy in person again.
Daddy comes back hard saying, “You’re falling down on the job son” all because he licks the jelly from the doughnut rather than fucks it out. Daddy continues to say he “was sure that his son would be able to succeed where others had failed.”
Well Daddy, some of us need a little flick of the bean to get the bucket ready for the dump.
Daddy precedes to tell him about a woman, let’s call her Helen, that squirted 20 times in one session, 20 TIMES! He had to get 3 or 4 beach towels to sop up that hot mess.
I try to comfort my man and assure him that he gets to job done to perfection while Daddy says a woman would never tell a man he isn’t performing as to not “kill his ego.”
Well sir, you don’t me. I am known in these parts as Freudian Slit, slayer of the fragile male ego.
I tell my man to tell his Daddy that we women are not all erupting Mount St. Helens and he can keep her soggy ass.
Daddy fires back, “Better a leaky faucet than nothing, maybe you need to call the plumber for help.” Things are heating up now, is Daddy suggesting a threesome?
I say, “Helen probably had a busted pipe rather than Daddy having skills.”
Daddy says son needs to brush on his math and “learn his angles.”
Let me tell you Daddy, my man has a master’s in Geometry.
Finally Daddy goes for the kill, "If you only make her cum with your mouth, you better stay hungry because you have a lot of eating to do!” Ok Daddy. I see you, but you struck too soon.
I tell my man to write this down, “He goes for the easy ones. At his age it’s probably been a while since some of those women have had the touch of a man and it’s like shooting fish in a barrel.” And I’m not done there, “Angles? At least you can work on your angles… his old ass has one and needs a hip pillow to reach it.”
No reaction from Daddy. Now I know it’s time to go for the jugular, “Tell Daddy he pops a blue pill and lets the ladies do the work. You don’t have skills sir: you have a flesh dildo.”
Don’t come for my man Daddy. Victory clenched.
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