Saturday, September 11, 2010

How to get a head with the ladies

If I ever found myself with a son of dating age, one of the best mingling tips I’d offer is don’t overlook the plain Jane (or Joe). If teen romantic comedies and Taylor Swift songs have taught us nothing it’s that the gal pal, the girl you laugh and share musical tastes and fart jokes with will end up, in the end, the one. She’s always the better fit than the blond who sprouted tits and pubs first, the one with Heather Locklear kind of hips that never go out of style, generation after generation. Case(s) in point:

Some Kind of Wonderful
Pretty in Pink (roles in reverse and a toss-up, considering Duckie was gay; but then Blaine seemed curious, too)
Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist

And when that hypothetical boy comes of age, how does one broach the topic of pleasing a lady? I assume fathers still do the standard penetration and keep your penis clean talk (my mother’s idea of “the talk” was a book with pictures; most of my childhood I thought babies were pooped out). But I’m talking technique, tickling the man in the boat.

Do I need to elaborate further?

Having a box lunch? Pearl diving? Away, away, away down south in Dixie?

If not fortunate enough to have a woman engaging enough to tell and show how she likes it, perhaps there are pamphlets, men’s journal articles or practice on a wedge of cantaloupe. Girls share every sexual trick and tip and there are scads of guidebooks providing step-by-step instructions (the double ball swallow an interesting concept and sideshow skill). I've heard urban legends of women who don’t care for it. I’m not one of those. You could pitch a tent, provide a cold drink and stay downtown all afternoon. Don’t blow it by blowing on it (it’s not like a nipple, you can’t coax it out with a breeze), use all your tongue, stem to stern, and hum if you really like it. Bonus, once you visit we’re more likely to reciprocate. Not the must-have-go-to on the appetizer menu but I order, devour and savor too. Best part is looking up at him.

And like your daddies told you, a clean peen is a happy peen.

With treasures and wisdom like that it’s a pure damn shame I don’t have a son.

5 comments:

Don said...

Well, but it's sort of creepy to have your mom tell you this. I've no idea what you mean about the "standard talk." I learned zero from my pop and made up for it with National Lampoon and girlfriends. My sons got nothing on it from me, either. I knew not what to say, really had no clue, and let the good instincts we gave them carry them through. Now they clearly will never have a shortage of lovely girlfriends so I have to suppose their training went well.

Syd said...

"Don’t blow it by blowing on it (it’s not like a nipple, you can’t coax it out with a breeze)"

The Housewife said...

Women like the lolly.. yes, yes we do.

Sometimes, I wonder if I will tell any future offspring any tips, but then I think about if my dad had this talk with me, and I would surely spend the rest of my life barfing.

The Housewife said...

P.S. I like your post title. You cheeky girl, you.

Syd said...

Sorry, meant to say I love that line. I can't imagine how I will talk to my son about this...instead, I'll just print out the article and have his dad do it. :)

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