Ladies, nod along. Boys, take notes.
1. The Early Morning Jackhammer
POUNDPOUNDPOUNDPOUNDPOUND. You wouldn't want this mishegas outside your bedroom window, right? So what on this asphalt-crusted earth makes him think I'd want his overzealous drill bit inside of me? Look, I get the mechanics. Sometimes, a guy's gotta get it in. But this kind of unrepentant cervix smashing should be reserved for the tail end of an all-night fuck-fest, not a pre-alarm early morning quickie. 'Cause ouch.
|I want a one-way ticket to Get Off Me Town|
Oh, for fuck's sake. His refusal to suit up in a jimmy hat is worse than when he busts out with baby talk. Because thanks to this kind of inexcusable negligence, we might actually need to have The Baby Talk. I don't even know if he's planning on watching the new season of "House of Cards"; I sure as shit don't want to gab about fertility and STDs and the like with his irresponsible ass. My motto: wrap it or I'll slap it. I am not kidding. (And I throw a mean cock-punch.)
|Can I interest you in a prophylactic?|
3. BJs for Non-BFs
Look, I don’t know where that stranger danger mystery meat has been. I’d sooner deep-throat a subway pole then put my mouth on his rando Slim Jim.
4. He Has a Girlfriend
Maybe this should go without saying, but you’d be truly alarmed at the number of guys who don’t think “I’m in a committed relationship” is relevant information worth sharing. But these lies by omission happen all the time. In a perfect world, he'd be upfront about the fact that he isn't available. But instead I get these tight-lipped jerkoffs who bury this exceedingly pertinent info. It sucks because finding out that he’s cheating on his girlfriend with me is the equivalent of dumping a bathtub’s worth of slushy NYC puddle water on my ladyboner.
5. Dude, Where’s my Warm Body?
Repeat after me, gentlemen: the word “girlfriend” is not a communicable disease. I promise you that spending the night is not going to magically transform me-–the girl you found charming enough to go home with in the first place-–into a Stage 5 Clinger. There’s no excuse for darting out under cover of darkness, whether you leave a note on the pillow or not. If only because it totally eliminates the possibility of a morning bang sesh.
6. Move Along, Body-Shamers
Once we’re in a relationship, I’m all ears. He prefers a hairless clam? Cool; let me choke down a couple of Advil and a tequila shot and call my waxer. But until his penis prays solely at my sacred altar, I frankly don’t care about his pube preferences. Suggest that I should trim my topiary any way other than exactly as I see fit, and you’ve just guaranteed that your hose will not be watering this rose garden.
What about you, Team SK? What have you learned about what drives you wild (or wild in a good way) in the sack?