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You Are the Worst Kind Of Person If You Don’t Kiss Me After A Blow Jay

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So close. I can do this. One more long dedicated suck. Ahhhh.

Suddenly a warm goo fills my mouth like a celebratory release of confetti. Despite my internal dialogue screaming “SPIT THAT SHIT OUT,” I’m no quitter. And in a sense spitting would only leave the repulsive aftertaste lingering for longer. Or at least that’s what I fool myself into thinking. I take a long hard swallow and let the potential little egg-fertilizers swim down to their dooms. I’m finished; he has finished.

All is well, that is until I go in for the kiss, and he hesitates.

Seriously? You’re seriously not going to kiss me after that?

“Ew gross,” he says.

Gross? Wow, I had no idea your vile man juice was in any way revolting. I have actually grown to enjoy the sticky warm substance. Now when I wake up on Sunday mornings, instead of craving an omelet and bacon, I can’t stop fantasizing about mountains of penile fluids on a platter. The sad part is you don’t even have to endure the consumption of the semen yourself, you get the barely-there remnants. Don’t you dare tell me you can still taste it. I’m the one who is forced to welcome it with an open mouth.

No, semen is not a magic potion that leaves you craving more. It will not suddenly turn you into a raging homosexual on the wild hunt for more dick. And if that’s your fear, you may have some other problems you may need to address. And if you’re on the wild hunt for more dick, go you. I’ll be your wing women. No girl has ever swallowed and had the internal struggle of desiring more. And if she did she was a masochist. I can guarantee if you taste the small quantity of your own sperm that may be hiding in my saliva, you will remain attracted to women.

The fact of the matter is, I just did a super nice thing for you. And it was something exclusively for your pleasure, surely not mine. So when I want to be intimate with you afterwards, you better reciprocate. And I’m not talking about a friendly handshake or kiss on the cheek. I get you think that anything relating to male genitalia and excrement is just simply horrific. However, I can promise you: you and your manhood will survive. Especially considering the act in itself is pretty freaking intimate. I don’t want to force-feed it to you, I just want to feel close to you, goddamnit.

Before you say I’m making a big deal out of nothing, okay, I probably am. But any girl knows the struggle of how much it blows to blow. And then to be flat out denied afterwards is just rude and tacky. So I hope the guys who kiss after their beejs receive a plethora of blow jobs and all their dreams come true. The guys that don’t, well, they can suck MY nonexistent dick.

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drunk and confused

On an average day you can find me awkwardly asking to pet dogs, searching through frat houses to find my missing wallet, and sending apology texts to the innocent victims from the evening before. Still navigating my way through undergrad life, and enjoying every drunken and confusing second of it

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