Having sex with a winner

Per request from Bulgingsnake I am here to spill the beans on his “sexy time skills”… because you know how he loves to read about himself 😉

The only thing that comes to mind is…. prison sex. It’s intense for a few minutes after having no foreplay.. and it’s over before you can get your legs in a comfortable position. OK, it’s not that bad… usually.

Honestly, he’s the least romantic guy on the planet. …mix that with the fact that he finds just about everything irritating — he has no desire to introduce bullshit like foreplay into the mix.

I’m the man in this aspect. I’ve hounded him for a decent roll in they hay before.. I’m not ashamed!

If I walk into the kitchen and grab his ass — just because, why not — he freaks out and yells “I’m not horny!”

When he IS in the mood it usually goes down like this:

*BS temporarily stops having a bratty attitude* “if you’re lucky I may have a boner for you later” *cute, sarcastic smile here*

Now here is the kicker… I have exactly .000000000000000000000000002 seconds to agree that this sounds like a good idea and get the wheels in motion.. because if I hesitate in any way (this also includes if I have to turn off lights, tuck kids in, or put out a fire first) he will get an attitude and walk away saying “that’s it, lost your chance.. I’m not in the mood! You blew it!” (This makes me want to murder him with a blunt object FYI)

If he has decided that he is still in the mood.. a few minutes later he will push me into the bedroom (or bathroom), close the door and have his pants down before I even readjust my eyes to the lighting change. (He often will be standing there in just socks and sneakers.. because you know… traction.. I guess). Then he pulls on himself while motioning for me to turn around. After a few minutes of him “giving it all he’s got” he finishes by no longer thrusting, but shaking my thigh fat softly as if he were thrusting still.. but really this is an optical illusion .. we aren’t actually moving.. just my thigh chub is. He pauses silently for a second.. then rips out like he’s pulling off a bandage and grabs the nearest cloth (often times its literally the clothes I WAS wearing) and uses it to clean off his lovejunk then proceeds to throw my now gross shirt at me as a sweet gesture (apparently to clean myself up for the giant mess he thinks he made for me). Before I know it he’s back in his clothes faster than Superman changes suits and he’s saying “thanks babe” while he looks over his shoulder on the way out of the now open door while I’m still trying to figure out where I can locate a clean shirt.

Now, if we are in the bathroom.. it’s even more romantic since our bathroom is about the size of a portable toilet and it smells like one since our old house has an issue with sewer gas coming from the drains (which also means that little room has to constantly have it’s only porthole sized window open to breathe in some fresh air.. but really it just makes that room a million degrees with 200% humidity so it now smells like hot ass. Romantic I know. It gets better…). Now the only position that works in there requires my face to either bash into the wall under the mirror, or bash into the faucet, or stare into the mirror at the absolutely ridiculous faces BS makes — which may piss him off if I giggle so I try to avoid that one. I usually have to shield my face in this position. Also, it requires me to stand on my tipsy toes since I’m mostly torso and he’s taller than me. All of this equals a good time…. for one.

BS is obviously a good looking guy. Women drool over him when we are in public. I’m not blind. ….I highly doubt this is the hot sex scenario they see in their wet dreams while thinking of him…. but I this is the Bulgingsnake experience.