Don’t take it too seriously. We’re playful, like cats with laser pointers. You’re the cat and we’re the laser pointer. Or something, I don’t know. Just take the joke and throw it back, okay?
2. Mean comments are displays of affection
There’s nothing more intimate or affectionate than me calling you an asshole and kissing you afterwards, trust.
3. We remember everything
That time you tripped outside the movie theatre, that embarrassing picture of you dressed as a LAX bro on Halloween freshman year. We like to keep our joke bank fresssssh, so don’t think that anything goes unnoticed or is off limits.
4. You can make fun of us too
We can honestly take a joke, even about our appearance. It’s fun when you bite back.
5. We come off cocky, but it’s a front
We’ll say inflated things about our appearance, like “I’m just so gorgeous” or “damn I look good” when we’re at our worst. We’re not infallible and we don’t spend hours on our faces. We don’t actually think we’re the shit…well, okay, we kind of are, but we will not say it like that.
6. If you don’t know if we’re joking, safe to assume we’re joking
The default mode of your phone is silent, and the default mode of my mouth is sarcastic.
7. We ARE laughing at you. But that’s because we like you
I wouldn’t laugh at you if I didn’t think you could laugh at me too. Your misery might make me smile, but only because I want to be the one to help you up and hug you after you fall down.
8. We have soft, gooey centers under the hard exteriors
We’re like rude Entenmann’s cookies. We’re only this sarcastic because we have mad layers of depth and feelings. For every mean thing we joke about, we have five more nice things to say about you.
9. If I’m ignoring you in a big group, it means I like you, yes you, the one I’m not talking to
Don’t get used to the loads of attention we pay you when we’re alone. We’re not really about PDA or making you feel like royalty when there are a bunch of people around. We’ll never be the ball and chain, and the more we ignore you, the more we can make eyes at you and mouth “I hate you,” which is basically a sign of head-over-heels, stupid crazy affection.
10. I hate you = I love you
Always. Always. Always.
11. Learn to take a little hit
We’ll shove you, playfully slap you for a good joke, and obviously hit you with a verbal shot to your glass jaw. The better you take it, the more we love you.
12. We will say something really mean and immediately wish we didn’t say it
It’s almost like sarcasm is this involuntary reaction and we. can’t. stop. being. sarcastic.
13. We will occasionally say something incredibly sincere, but you won’t notice because you’ll think we’re being sarcastic
..And then we feel pretty foolish for putting ourselves out there.
14. There’s nothing in my eye
I am actually having an emotional reaction to something. I’m not sure what this salty watery substance is coming out of my eyeballs right now but it happens sometimes when I get upset. You don’t need to stare at me like I’m on fire. I have feelings!
15. I actually have a lot of feelings
I’m not an emotionless robot, I’m just a sardonic lady. I like to joke and mess around, but that doesn’t mean I’m a stoic rock.
16. I know it may not seem like it, but I’m not trying to play it cool
We are so sensitive, if that wasn’t obvious by now. Too sensitive. Could be why we are so sarcastic, but whatever, that’s dumb, we cool, we cool.
17. We’re bad with making moves
We truly, honestly do not know how to give you the signal that we like you or that we care about you. We are hoping you will see through our sarcasm and see we’re basically dying for you to notice us.
18. Being sincere doesn’t come easy
So when we get serious, you need to pay attention. (Or like cherish it or whatever).
19. In the truest reality, you’re dating a sensitive, affectionate, loving lady
Sarcastic girls are really the sweetest girls. Just shut up about it, okay?
Sometimes my boyfriend begs me to give him head. “Your blowjobs are completely epic,” he tells me, and I believe him. I love going down on him and watching how he loses himself, and I love knowing I can do this thing to him that drives him completely wild, every time, without fail. But what he doesn’t want to know is that I’ve gone down on a lot of guys in my life. Not quite porn-level oral, but I’m 26 and I’ve had several boyfriends so you do the math. I’ve always heard guys talking about “deep throating” but I never know what it was or how to do it. Some guys insist and hold your head down or force you, which isn’t really that comfortable, or they’ll ask you politely to deep throat them and you sort of try but aren’t sure if you’re doing it right? Now I think I’m pretty OK but I don’t know how I got here, so I went to thesetwo Reddit threads to see what tips people have on deep throating. Maybe some of these will work for you?
I like kneeling over him (a lot of people don’t, but I find it helps with his curve) while he plays with my hair, grabs my boobs or whatever. Then, go as far down as you can without gagging (even if it’s just the tiniest bit), and just stop there. Swallow a bit, breathe and just get used to the sensation. When you feel comfortable and your throat is relaxed, try a little further. Don’t push too quickly, just breathe in and ease down. Try moving your head to find the angle of least resistance to the bottom of your throat, as that will likely trigger your gag reflex. I find that pushing the head of the penis against the back of your throat whilst breathing in had the most success. Just keep doing this every couple of times you guys have sex, and slowly you should get used to it.
a little add on to this, when you actually get yourself to the point where you are able to deep throat, take a deep breath BEFORE you go all the way down. with him in your throat you will have a very difficult time breathing, even through your nose. it can also make you gag a little if you try to breath with him all the way in you. most importantly, PRACTICE!!! you will both love it!!!
Penis shape makes a huge difference. If you try to deep throat against the curve, failure is inevitable. Try every position you can think of. In my case, with a straight and thick at the tip penis, the easiest for most girls is he classic ‘road head’ position, in which I sit on a couch facing forward, and she curls up beside me on m right, on her right side, and then sucks. Picture the position you would use in a parked car.
If you’re going to do it I suggest and emptyish road without a lot of other cars around, no point endangering other people any more than you have to. Make sure the asphalt is smooth, you don’t want a bumpy road for obvious reasons. The best place is probably a controlled access highway (like an interstate) without much traffic. You don’t have head-on traffic to contend with and they are typically smooth without sharp curves. Set the cruise control so he is less likely to accelerate unintentionally when it starts feeling really good. Oh, and don’t forget to video tape and share the results with us.
It is way easier for me to do it when he’s soft or just a little hard and he gets bigger. The feeling is pretty weird, but it works much better to start from 20% and have him go to 100% in my mouth, than to try and go from nothing in my mouth to all of it at once.
I usually have him lay down in the bed and I get on my hands and knees between his llegs. This works really well for me. I haven’t ever really had too much of a.problem deepthroating but some of the tips here.really make sense. Breathe before you go down as they said. I have found that if I need to, I can just open my mouth a little wider and breathe that way. If you aren’t good at it yet I wouldn’t suggest this until you are a.little.more comfortable. I also conveniently had boyfriends whwho started small and the one I have now is the biggest I have been with. It just worked out consecutively luckily. For this reason the advice to go down as far as you can before gagging makes sense. Just kinda sit there for a minute and then work your way down. It will take time but eventially you will out-will your gag reflex.
Ah. This may sound strange, but is she sucking very hard? I found that when I felt nervous or like I wasn’t doing a good job, I would start to suck quite hard and that would make my jaw and my lips ache very quickly. If she tries to remember to relax her jaw and just move up and down and let her tongue do the work she may not tire out as quickly.
There are a few positions where it’s supposedly a little easier to do, basically if the head is back so the throat and mouth are in line. Probably the easiest one for doing this is lying on your back with your head a little off the edge of the bed and him standing on the floor. You also need to relax, if your throat tightens up no amount of forcing will get it in, also probably easier if you do the position I suggested above if you grab his ass and pull him into you rather than have him push, that way you can control the depth a bit better.
ahh yeah i finally taught myself how to do this with my curent bf. first thing, lots of saliva. i like first putting the head just to the back of my throat. as youre moving up and down his rod, try to push the tip barely into your throat and swallow a few times to help work it in. i usually go a half dozen times balls deep and hold there to get used to it. a lot of times he will flex his dick in my throat. feels amazing. i like burying his cock down my throat just as he cums. once he starts shooting down my throat, i swallow several times while his cock is in my throat. he says its the most amazing feeling and almost feels like im pulling the cum out of his balls when i swallow down on his cock. this is taken a better part of a year but ive been able to practice almost daily
Thank you! Maybe the secod time I blew him, he pushed my head down and I gagged and had to stop for a bit because I wasn’t expecting it. I haven’t been able to go down as far since then, but hearing multiple times that it’s mental and can be worked up to again gives me a lot of encouragement
Well, in my experience, you deep throat it, back off, repeat. Deep throating, at least from my observation of the guy’s reactions, should be mixed in with the whole blow job experience. You should probably deep throat, back off, breathe through your nose or mouth a little, then go back for more. When his cock is down your throat, your airways are most likely both blocked, thus preventing air even from your nose from getting in.
Also, while giving a blowjob with deep throating I like being on my knees while he’s sitting. If you need to breath or need a break and want to add something to it, give him a titty fuck. This really helps me since my jaw tends to get soar and he really likes it. Then go back down when you’re ready.
For me, the most important thing is pacing. If I’m controlling the pacing and know when I can expect his dick to be where, I can (and do) deepthroat. If I’m allowing him to control the tempo, however, I will gag almost every time. This is usually made worse by things such as having my head pushed down by his hand or him changing the angle of his hips to make thrusting easier– both of which are unfortunately common behaviors in facefucking. Basically, my advice is this: make sure your guy understands that he needs to sit back and let himself get deepthroated, not try to make it happen himself.
I’m always afraid now, afraid that I’ll turn a corner and you’ll be there. Walking where I walk, browsing grocery shelves, at the gas pump next to mine. I will walk right into your silhouette. I live in terror, knowing that you’re coming back, that you’ll begin to haunt the places I go.
And so I have to change my clothes, dye my hair, tattoo my skin, be a different girl — change so you don’t recognize me and I forget all about it. Selective amnesia, maybe. I am terrified that you’ll be standing somewhere and I’ll stop and we’ll lock eyes and our Midwestern upbringing, always so polite, will force us to speak.
I will just have to smile and walk by as if nothing had happened at all, make you the perfect stranger. Never ever bash you over the head the way I want to, scream at you, stab little spiky words into your skin to hurt you and make you feel like your suit is made of glass shards. That’s what I want to do.
I used to be afraid of snakes. I remember a summer on the farm, when I was very small, that garter snakes ran rampant across our yard. They coiled in slithering, dark clumps in the grass under the clothesline and I’d watch them, horrified and frozen near the screen door, as they took refuge under our deck. My mother didn’t let us out to play on the days the snakes were thick; she chopped them up under the blades of our big lawnmower.
I was afraid of snakes for years after that. Over time, the population lessened, or they got smarter and didn’t sneak around our yard. But I’d see them while driving, or going for one of my long, rambling solo walks on the gravel roads. And I’d scream for the dog and stand petrified. Sometimes I’d pull over and vomit. My fear was so fast and so intense that my guts just flew right up and out my mouth.
Lots of things scare me. Big things, little things, silly things.
I was afraid you were going to find out what I did to you, but you never did.
The funny thing is, snakes don’t scare me anymore. I just throw a rock at them and they slither away to hide. Plus, when you live in the city, there are no snakes.
And the funniest thing is that I know you’re terrified of me. Even though you won and you’re probably so coated in the glow of your newfound love that you don’t give a shit that I’m still so angry. I don’t want to burn bridges — I want to fucking torch them. Sometimes I think I like the hatred more than I ever liked the being in love part, but then I tell myself not to be crazy and fold that thought away.
I hope you’re scared of me. You should be. You should let me haunt all your dreams and be spooked by my ghost. When you’re inside her, you should think of me and remember how my blood boiled under your hands. And remember that it still boils, even now.
To the point where only the bare essentials of human interaction and vocation are bothered with. A hello in the elevator is the breadth of conversation we’re going to have for a few days. When we get home (assuming we didn’t call out sick), we slide into bed with the hope of staying there for a century.
Once the shock wears away — when we start crying in some creative hiding spots throughout the day — we fill our days with distractions. New projects at work, heading out with the guys every night, new book, new show, basically anything. After a week or so of this, we bluff ourselves into thinking, “I’m totally okay. This is going to be fine. I’m awesome.” This leads to…
3. Fucking anyone that smiles at us.
After a breakup our standards get really lax. That annoying girl at the bar who won’t shut up about her English major kinda sorta vaguely looks like Scarlett Johansson all of a sudden. We listen to her laud Bukowski and trample Plath, thinking only, “She has a really good point.. no, wait, that’s just her hand on my thigh.”
4. We creep on your social media.
It happens innocuously but, my god, does it spiral. We find ourselves on instagram, facebook, or twitter after days of careful avoidance. But hell, we’re feeling so good after English Major ScarJo and a dozen others that we get reckless. Since Facebook is the harbinger of all modern day angst (or something like that), a photo you posted yesterday is sitting at the top of our feed like a coiled snake. There’s a half-hearted downward scroll and then we dive right in. We catch up on what we’ve missed in the past few weeks of your life. We cross-reference your other sites and build a picture. It seems like you don’t miss us. (Instagram photos of you and your girlfriends looking great while out on the town with captions like, “Back to having fun with my girls!” don’t help.)
This is the breaking of the storm. With you (seemingly) happily single, we start to wonder what we’re worth. Did we make you happy at all? Were you so miserable? Don’t you miss what we had? On the night of this, we stay up late. Toss and turn. Stare at an empty “New Text” box, wondering what, if anything, to say to you. This part is tricky. Some men will text you at this point and some won’t. It depends on a lot of things. Either way, we always end up
6. Having regrettable sex.
At first the idea is that sex will make us feel better, distract us, and build a connection with someone new all at the same time! What instead happens is we remember all the fun relationship sex. The laughs, the experimenting, the comfort, the knowledge of each other’s bodies, and, most importantly, the love. Snap back to the present. “Who is this?” we think either immediately after or during this random hookup. We do this several more times with several more women to stave off the encroaching loneliness until we sink comfortably into
7. Something like a full blown depression.
We reminisce. Every woman we’d usually jump at suddenly seems dull or not enough. We search for you in everyone we meet and invariably come up short. We have those glitches where something funny or bizarre happens and we get excited to tell you before we remember. Sunny days seem dreary. We start watching really weird porn. Depending on the guy, we either eat too much or not at all. It’s a sad time and we want you back. “Hey, hope you’re having a great week,” we’ll text out of the blue. Things may have ended (poorly, even) but it’s impossible for us to pretend, at this point, that we aren’t still in love with you. We wonder if maybe we can work it out. We nod vehemently when Drake says, “Know we was goin’ through some shit, name a couple that isn’t.” And cry like baby back bitches when “Marvin’s Room” comes on. (Drake is every heartbroken man’s best friend — or should be.)
Eventually, though, there’s a redirection that happens. We come to terms, and instead of missing you, we just miss the intimacy. Instead of missing the exact intimacy that we shared, we begin to open ourselves up to different connections, different people. If we stopped having sex, we’ll start again. If we never stopped, we’ll slow down. Laughs will come with less bitterness. We’ll see a photo of you with some guy and actually keep scrolling this time. It’s all very gradual and everyone has different timing. Most importantly, though, we can start going back to our favorite restaurants again, thank god.
I was in the heat of my sophomore slump, at the beach for the weekend with friends I felt could not possibly love someone as flawed and unsure as I was, when I got the call. My 15-year-old sister had been sent home from boarding school with a severe eating disorder. It was out of the blue, a complete surprise to me, who was used to knowing everything about her, and my first emotion was not worry but loneliness. I felt double the loneliness, hers piled on top of mine, a loneliness I thought would drown me if I didn’t move. So I went to the beach and I walked for hours while my racing, tortured mind came up with this poem:
Today there’s something scary about the beach
That used to be pretty but now just looks bleached
So many people, everyone but you
So are you alone somewhere? I wish that I knew
Because all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be
Completely and painfully honest with me
I wish that you knew that I could never be
Disappointed in you, just be honest with me
And happy, just happy, like we used to be
But now I don’t know, was it all an illusion?
Did we get tricked by a world of confusion?
And pain, and loneliness, how can we get out?
Or is this just what growing up is about?
‘Cause you’re over there and I’m over here
And I know in my heart that we have the same fears
People say the world’s small but it feels way too big
For two people who just need each other to live
And there’s deadlines and judgments and it all just keeps moving
So if we slow down how will we know what we’re doing?
And if we stop now is there no coming back?
But that’s if we could even get off the track
And if we did stop would it even be fair
To expect those who love us to be there, to care?
But we wouldn’t need them, we wouldn’t, I swear
If both of us stopped, if we stripped out lives bare
It all sounds so easy so why’s it so rare?
Because people would look at us with downcast eyes
And they’d say those poor girls how they’ve ruined their lives
But we wouldn’t hear them ‘cause we’d be alone
And unlike those people who only press “Go”
Those who climb mountains, who reach all their goals
They conquer the world but do they have a home?
If only it wasn’t so hard to let go
But it is, and that’s why I’m here and you’re there
With way more between us that miles and thin air
But when we’re apart we both don’t have enough
And I know this is more than a hand of bad luck
So I want you to know that although I can’t stop
Though I’m a coward on my way to the top
Under all this I’m as lonely as you
And I think that things could change, if only you knew
So you’d think it would be easy, after that, to call my sister and tell her these things, but it wasn’t. In fact, I didn’t tell her until a week later, standing beside her hospital bed after she’d gotten much worse. I didn’t tell her because there is a lot of risk in being honest, especially, I think, with those we love the most – What if he gets angry and shuts me out? What if she stares back at me blankly? What if I have it all wrong? But what I’ve learned from this is that it’s worth it. It’s worth it because in the best-case scenario, two fearful people do not equal double the fear, two people in pain will not suffer double the pain, and two lonely people will no longer be crushed by double the loneliness. Instead, while it may not go away, the fear, the pain, and the loneliness will suddenly seem smaller. It will go from seeming to transcend the ends of the earth to something you can hold in the palms of your hands, together. Love conquers fear, pain, and loneliness any day, all we have to do is be vulnerable with those we love. And we have to do it now.