I would tend to agree with you that in most ...
I once dated a raging alcoholic who was on Prozac. While she was a load of beer-soaked fun, I was denied access to the pink palace of pleasure because the Prozac robbed the poor girl of her libido and made orgasms nearly impossible. Hence, sex was very frustrating for her. After much pleading, I was granted a chance to lick the louvered panels of love to see if light would shine through. I ate at the Y for two and a half hours before the desired effect was achieved. And I assure you, I know what I am doing. (If you have any doubts, perhaps you should try some extensive field research and find out for yourself.)
The alcohol-soaked Prozac girl expressed delight and wonder that I had such perseverance and that she came. Subsequent forays brought orgasms quicker. So as you can see, spending a lot of time down there is sometimes necessary.
?David
Dude, you have to stop mining the Valley of the Dolls for your dates. A raging alcoholic on Prozac? There's no getting that woman off! Lost cause! Are you nuts? Didn't your tongue get chapped? Didn't your jaw lock up? No wonder it took you two and a half hours?your halo probably kept getting in the way. Believe me, I've attempted oral action on your date's pill-popping drunkypants brethren and given up way sooner than that. Fellating a drunk on antidepressants is like tonguing an unbaked Pillsbury crescent roll?no thanks. (Unless your gloomy guzzler is eating Wellbutrin. For some reason these happy pills don't seem to have many nasty sexual side effects.)
I hate to burst your bubble (and God knows I could be wrong), but I would suspect that after 150 minutes of uninterrupted tongue-lashing, your inebriated friend might've been faking it when she "came." This is not to diminish your talents. I'm just thinking that after the oral-sex equivalent of two back-to-back episodes of Law & Order plus the sitcom of your choice, she might've need a bathroom or snack break. And as we're not dealing with a sane dame, she might've pretended to get off just to get you offa her.
While I applaud your efforts?and I do?I think you should start looking for a healthier kind of girl?one who will appreciate your talent and determination within a reasonable time frame. In fact, I think I might know someone?
I've been seeing my fellow for about a year and a half. I recently told him I loved him. He said he couldn't say it back. He said he felt there were some "basic incompatibilities in the relationship" and that he wasn't sure what love was, or if that was what he felt for me. He said he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to say he loved me?but he still very much wanted to be with me. He said he wasn't ready to end things "yet" and that he always wanted to be in my life in one way or another. I was surprised and hurt?I told him I needed time to process what he'd said. Meanwhile, his actions have been everything I could ask for?he is sweet, attentive, gentle, kind. He's had far fewer relationships than me (him: two, eight-plus: me) and has said he feels inexperienced and out of my league.
I love him. I think he's insecure but could grow more confident with time, but I'm very scared by what he's said. Should I give him some time or dump him?
?Confused
Once you throw an unreciprocated I-love-you into the mix, the countdown to the end of your relationship begins. Sorry. I don't make the rules; I only enforce them. Tick tock.
The problem is, you're either dating an emotional retard or a child?which for our purposes, amounts to the same thing. I'm guessing his definition of love involves severe stomach cramps, some idiotic notion of lightning striking, bells clanging and an instant kismetic connection that sets his dick turgid and his balls humming, all while his heart goes thumpety-thump at top volume. The reality of the situation is that being in love is having a best friend you really, really wanna fuck all the time (or at least most of the time), which is what it sounds like you have.
You're the only one who can decide when to dump this guy (and you will), but let me make a prediction? Boyfriend will call you outta the blue in a few years. You won't be expecting it because you'll have grieved for an appropriate amount of time and then moved on. Then one day, when you least expect it (probably between the hours of 1 and 4:30 in the morning), the phone will ring. He will be quite inebriated. After much hemming and hawing and several awkward silences, he'll tell you that you were the best thing that ever happened to him and that he was a gigantic ass to have let you walk away. He'll tell you that no other girl has ever understood him the way you did, nor has he met anyone half as sweet/pretty/funny/kind/smart. He thinks, gulp, that you may have been (cue melodramatic soundtrack) The One.
There may be tears (his).
Right about now, you're probably thinking you'll be very moved by this declaration?no matter how late or lame. But the fact is, you'll be annoyed. Then you'll move on to seriously pissed-off territory. Then you'll go out for cocktails with your girlfriends and find out that the same thing has happened to every single one of them.
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