Heart Shaped Vagina, Part 1

HEART SHAPED VAGINA, PART 1

 

OBLIGATORY

Ever the sexual opportunist, I organized a non-traditional Valentine’s Day party. Here’s an abridged version of the invite:

Event:

Not getting laid on Valentine’s Day?

Tagline:

A celebration of drinks and despair.

Description:

Skipping out on an over-priced meal and obligatory post-meal sex (the prostitution of polite society)? Despite publicly denouncing Valentine’s Day as a “meaningless, capitalist holiday” (and you believe it, too), you harbor bitter resentment for your coupled friends? Receiving an e-mail with this subject line prompted you to run to the bathroom to bawl?

Join me in my excessively pink apartment for pink drinks and despair.

I will have: strawberry vodka (not pink, but evocative of the color), strawberry yogurt, watermelon pucker, grenadine, white zinfandel (duh), etc.

Makeout music will be provided. Festive attire encouraged, as always.

Some guests refused to RSVP on facebook because they didn’t want to publicly announce they weren’t getting laid on Valentine’s Day.

 

February 4, 2009

Genie: i think i am having a v day party next weekend

Andy: do you have a date?

Genie: do you need to bring a date to an apt party at your own apt?

oh you kids these days

Andy: i’d like to show up knowing there wasn’t another guy courting you in the room as well

unless you get off on machismo competing for you

Genie: ooh, well i hadn’t even considered that, but competition is always welcome

i hear narcissists like that

really it is a party for drinks and despair, though

i suppose courting could be accommodated

Andy: i’ve been despairing for several valentines days in a row

would you like to be my valentine?

Genie: i thought you would never ask!

i hope this doesn’t entail over-priced dinner and obligatory post-dinner sex

Andy: i’m broke and nothing’s obligatory

Genie: perfect

Genie: i have to find a clever image for my fb invite

wow. google images “vagina heart”

i was expecting something more abstract

Andy: hahaahhaah

vagina heart

Genie: like the painting that jane adams’ character has on her wall in the movie the wackness

 

CREAM PIE

February 14, 2009

I prepared for my Valentine’s Day date with some arts ‘n crafts. Handmade gifts are more personal. My junior year of college, I came across this image on either creampie.com or creampies.com. The addresses now both direct to the same, porny site. Back in the day, one of the two addresses hosted a legit pastry business. Which I guess begrudgingly allowed the porno company to purchase its seemingly innocent name after it received loads (ha ha, loads) of inappropriate e-mails. Reminds me of the Sexy Cakes erotic bakery sketch from SNL. Should have totally combined those two businesses! This image is so beautiful, I hung it on my wall junior year. Nothing like a little female body appreciation.

heart shaped cream pie

vagina heart

For Andy, I flipped the image 180-degrees (as seen above), and voila: a vagina heart! I cut it out; mounted it on pink, red, and purple construction paper; added glitter glue and other embellishments; and with magic markers wished him a “Happy Valentine’s Day!” He thought it was lovely. Actually, hilarious. We are meant for each other.

Except, I was worried that he wouldn’t even show up. It was clear that he had gotten cold feet and there was all this posturing about “your world” v. “my world.” As if we a Rufus Humphrey and Lily van der Woodsen. Finally, he called me to tell me he was on his way; he was going over the Manhattan Bridge. I was confused: was he taking a taxi then a subway? It turns out that he lives in real Brooklyn where the subway in over-ground and he gets “one call from jail.” When he arrived, he admitted that he had groomed his friend to behave nicely on the UES. He insisted on calling Midtown the “Upper East Side.” Speculated on how I could “declassify” myself. Concluded that my friends and I were not snobs, after all. Duhh, I met him through my HS friends who are total slobs, wear pajamas all day, read fantasy novels, etc. None of us are even from the Upper East Side! Gahhh.

More annoying than dwelling on of the Great Class Divide, he persisted to steer the discussion toward his brilliance—how is a member of Mensa and the smartest in his family—even disclosing his IQ! Guess that is the adult equivalent of sharing SAT scores? Equally tiresome. Unfortunately for him, bragging about brilliance just ain’t classy. Besides, since I only associate with wealthy and well-connected Upper East Siders, I was unimpressed. Ha ha, as if. Ooooh, boy, I forgot the best part: He is a total rough-and-tumble Brooklyn-pride poseur. Turns out he is from Staten Island. Other than the New York Harbor, all that separated us was knowledge of the Wu Tang Clan and a few slang words. And our clothing, obviously.

My party traveled to a nearby bar, and we managed to sneak back to my place for our much-anticipated Valentine’s Day romp. Keeping him around was well worth it, despite his flaws. Once again, he got rock hard instantly then there was little variation. As I sucked his dick, he grabbed on to my necklace. Normally I’m not into BDSMy things. Specifically, holding down my head while I’m giving head is my no. 1 blowjob no-no. But, in this case the physical restraint was amazing. And I trusted him completely. He was very attentive to my reactions. My greatest fear was that he’d break my beaded necklace and I’d have to restring it. Soon I got so breathy I had trouble sucking him. He came, we fucked, and I had a little trouble getting there. I transitioned from Andy to my husband dildo; as he watched me fuck myself in a reclining position, he played with his cock a little. The visuals were sublime, but not quite enough. I ordered him to straddle and loom over me. (Read ‘In Your Face’ for details on staging.) Feeling him beat his balls against my chest—in combination with panoramic visual confrontation—was just the extra stimulation I needed. He timed himself perfectly: we came at the same time. Couldn’t have timed myself better to porn. What. A. Pro. Aiming at my neck, he overshot a little. Mmm. Maybe he estimated the distance according to how far he’d shoot alone. A goofy grin swept my face. Blissed out. Dazed. Moonstruck. Contented. I marveled, “This is perfect. I’m so glad I found you.” He let out a hearty laugh and I teased, “What, girls don’t normally say that to you when they have cum on their faces?”

The next morning, Danny woke me up early and requested morning sex. Which I politely declined. He insisted, “One day I’m going to fuck you to your senses and you’ll realize, ‘Wow, all this time I could have started my day like this.’” Fuck the sense into me? Ahahaha, precious. Never will I ever think, ‘All this time I could have started my day at 11 a.m.!’ He was the best sex since I dumped my college boyfriend a year and a half prior. Nevertheless, an unceremonious awakening is an unceremonious awakening, sex or none.

 

COMPENSATION

February 19, 2009

Charlie: ok so let me ask you this though

since i worry

i mean, i feel like if i ever fuck a girl

ill be pretty good

just bc

Charlie: i have seen SO much porn and am a really sexual person and just have so much pent-up sexual energy

but my q is

given that he has a small d

what does he do to like

make up for it as it were

or

do you not need to “make up for it”

Genie: i’m not sure he has to make up for it

i mean, the dildo i am married to is small

and i have other dildos

you can work on friction and angle more with small, whereas with big it is all about fullness

fullness is good, of course, but can get boring

desensitizing

Charlie: i see

as much sex as ive seen, at very close-up camera angles

i cant imagine how much more i have to learn

never having actually stuck my d inside anything other than a mouth

Genie: and perhaps a bottle of conditioner?

Charlie: hahahhaa

never a bottle of conditioner

Genie: andy told me he didn’t put shit in his hair bc i complained last time and so i ran my fingers through his hair and was like “you need conditioner.” apparently he constantly runs out bc he uses cond as lube. this was my plight in like middle school. but that was only bc you can ask your mom to buy you more cond, but if she constantly is asked to replenish lube she begins to wonder.

now that i can charge anything from the drugstore to my parents’ cc, no qs asked, it is lube aplenty.

actually, i don’t really use lube bc i have this theory about it, but if i did i would think i was old enough to purchase actual lube, not pantene pro-v with vitamins a and c!

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