A face to forget

No matter which way you go
No matter which way you stay
You’re out of my mind, out of my mind
Out of my mind, out of my mind
–Tegan and Sara/Walking With A Ghost

There are some people who are not particularly memorable. Not that they aren’t perfectly nice, intelligent, funny, smart or wonderful, but for whatever reason they slide away from other people’s minds. Maybe they are so quiet they don’t make an impression, good or bad. Maybe there is something unremarkable about their appearance. Maybe they are dull. Maybe all of the above.

I am one of those people. I can meet a person several times and not get the tiniest flicker of recognition any of the times I meet them. Sometimes they remember my name after they hear it. They never recognize me. I have an unmemorable face, I guess.

This would be a definite deficit as a politician. It might be a good thing for a character actor or a criminal. Perhaps I shouldn’t put the two in the same category. Perhaps I should put the trait to good use and become a bank robber.

A lot of people at work know me by name but have no idea what I look like.
That is not a bad thing.

I’m not quite sure how I feel about my lack of memorability.

It hasn’t changed as I’ve gotten older and less physically attractive. Even when I was young and beautiful, I’d meet guys, hear them say flattering things to each other about me…and meet them somewhere a week or two later and it would be like they’d never seen me.

It’s an odd feeling. For someone who has issues with feeling like reality isn’t all that real, it’s a little unsettling. Feelings of invisibility tend to get triggered a lot. I get a bit untethered. Insubstantial. Drift off. I’ve got the patent on ethereal.

It’s not something I know how to react to. Most of the time, it’s just funny. Still, though, if I am having a bad day and then end up with the invisibility cloak on, it can be hard on the ego.

Most of us want to feel like we have made some sort of connection with people. When people don’t remember me, I feel like it’s a failure on my part to make that connection. Too much silence will do that.

Maybe I just need a hug.







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NSFW: Blow jobs and magic

This post might be considered offensive by some people. If you are at all offended by sex, or people (me) talking about it, this might be a post for you to skip.

Or, if you are my mother.

Thanks.

 

 

 
Seriously, Mom.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

When I was about 35, a group of girlfriends known as the CLITS (Christian Ladies Inspirational Testimonial society) went out for drinks.

On this epic night, I discovered that not all women swallow.

I do not and did not consider myself a sexual naive. Not swallowing‽ It had never occurred to me that not swallowing was an option after a blow job. Even at 13. It just seemed like the polite thing to do.

Oh. Yeah. I’m talking about blow jobs. Maybe I should warn people. Done.

I was not sexually inexperienced in the least. When I was 35, I mean. How could I not know that this was something that not everyone did? Not that I would opt out at this point, but I found it more than a little baffling to learn that some people would just spit.

The group was evenly divided between swallowers and the newly discovered non-swallowers. I was appalled at this turn of events. I am, it turns out, a little militant about swallowing. In my opinion, it is not…good sexual etiquette… to not swallow.

Spitting it out? Isn’t that kind of a sexual buzz kill? To me, it’s right up there with wiping your mouth off after kissing someone. Or a man refusing to go down on a woman. Or a woman going down on a woman, if that’s your ideal. Not behavior I can condone at all, no matter how much respect I have for different sexual preferences in general.

Maybe it’s more about the spitting than the sex. I do hate spitting in general.

The news got worse. Not only do some women refuse to swallow, but some women consider blowjobs as something to be “gotten through” rather than enjoyed. My own personal preferences in the matter run strongly to teasing and prolonging. Bring him to the edge and back it off until his eyes roll so far back into his head that he’ll need eye surgery? Yes.

Of course, I have to say a lot of guys are bad at getting a blow job. Not only are some men too goal oriented About it, but they don’t seem to realize that there is a human being on the other end of their dick who is doing something that will have an outcome that they are theoretically in favor of. They probably should not grab her by the hair and try to suffocate her while she is doing her best to make them have an orgasm. Unless she’s into that. There is a delicate line between indicating a preference and taking over. Since it’s the blow job giver who is likely to gag and choke, she’s the one who should really be deciding how much she wants to take on and how far you can go. Try moaning and asking her to go deeper or faster or whatever. If she can, she will. Plus, she will enjoy the moaning. We all like positive reinforcement.

It isn’t just about getting a guy off as quickly as possible unless the person giving you the blow job is a hooker. Even then, don’t hold her head until she gags on you.

We don’t want to have to bite, but we will.

Let us enjoy it.

Part of the attraction, I suppose, is an aspect of power. Having a man get hard in your mouth, because of what you are doing with your mouth and hands, is an almost magical experience. It is extremely powerful to have someone’s pleasure so completely in your control. I loved blow jobs from the very first one I ever gave as a teenager. The idea that I could do something that would make someone feel that good was a huge turn on for me. I hear it feels good, too. Strange that I will never know how it feels from the receiving end. Having a penis would be a whole new world…

We’ll talk about penises and how I don’t want to have one some other time. The masturbating must be nice though.

So, back to the CLITS:
We were having dinner in a Mexican place on Broadway, and got progressively raunchier as the margaritas flowed. After a couple of rounds, the manager pointed out that we were in a family restaurant and asked us to leave. Oops. At least any children present were well informed about how rude it is to spit in bed, and that there are discrete options of doing so if you are a non-swallowing beotch. Depending on which side of the argument you favor, either the towel of shame or the rag of redemption would be employed.

Seriously? Spitting into a towel is the best you can do?

Clearly I take this personally for some reason.

Don’t be bringing your towel of shame into my boudoir, missy.

We ended the evening in a tapas bar. Many more drinks. The discussion continued. When we stood to go, we got a round of applause from the tables around us, largely on the strength of ML’s emotional and arousing yet poetic discussion of exactly what she liked to do to a man’s cock with her mouth, and why. It was one of the best times I have ever had in a bar.

We were all happy that the other people in the bar enjoyed it as much as we did.