After ignoring the question three days ago, once again I get an email asking: “Do you like cum in your ass?” This boldly crass sentence not only makes me feel dirty AND ridiculous AND not the least bit turned on, but I also want to ask right back, “Do you have even an ounce of class?”
Even though the rational, correct answer is Of course not, stupid, any dick having permission to be in my asshole would be properly sheathed—I prefer to keep him wondering why I won’t be a good sport and just let him jack off to a million emails sent back and forth to each other.
You guessed it, the poor bastard is married.
I’ve slept with married men before, and I suspect I probably will again at some point, but they are definitely not my first choice. No, it’s not because they have a wife and kids. No, it’s not because I would have to host all of the time. I don’t even care all that much that it would never go anywhere. The main reason I don’t like to mess around with married men is because if their wife is not having sex with them, chances are they are selfish lovers.
If I’m going to invest time and energy in someone—and eventually spread my legs for them—then I want it to be good. Married guys who choose to cheat on their wives tend to be bad in bed.
Take J-tard, for instance–the idiot who likes to send dirty messages via email but doesn’t ever really want to meet me. This guy takes 30 emails before he fesses up and tells me that he’s married. During those exchanges, he tries numerous times to get me to talk dirty to him even though I explained that I wanted to have sex with him–not talk about having sex with him. “Besides,” I write to J-tard, “that sort of thing doesn’t do anything for me. Maybe after we meet and get to know each other that can be fun, but I’d rather enjoy a beer with you and flirt in person.” Unfortunately, the boy has a one track mind that leaves me yawning.
Now, I cannot vouch for J-tard’s skills between the sheets. He may be a kick-ass fuck with a huge cock and tons of interest in making it enjoyable for all involved. Based on how well he listens up to this point, however, I’m thinking I don’t even want to find out.
The only married man I willingly slept with on a regular basis tricked me into having sex with him the first time we met. It was only after we were chatting and naked that he admitted he was in a committed relationship. At the time, I agreed to see him again, but it got stale really, really quickly.
When Mr. Poke-her goes out to cheat on his wife, his idea of a good time is definitely “quantity over quality.” The thought of foreplay OR getting to know someone OR oral sex OR anything other than ramming it in never enters his brain. I asked him once why he apparently needs this extra-curricular outlet (he’s been a cheater for 12 of the 15 years he’s been married and typically has four or five women on the side at any given time) and his answer was, “My wife and I just don’t have the passion. It’s missing.”
Taking my eyes down off of the ceiling, I blurt out, “Now, isn’t that a shame. Your wife doesn’t want to have sex anymore? I wonder why . . . ?”
I was at an all time low when I was hanging out with Mr. Poke-her. We met pretty regularly for almost a year even though I didn’t particularly want to have sex with him. After a while, I stopped too. We would still go out, but I called them “sex-free” dates where he basically bought my friends and me drinks while pouting because he wasn’t getting a piece of ass.
One night I called Mr. Poke-her out of the blue wanting to go skinny dipping. He already had a date but agreed to have me come along as his second date. That worked really well for me—this way I can have fun with other people while he hangs out with her.
When I meet Mr. Poke-her’s other woman later that evening, I am taken aback. She is super nice and friendly, but she has not aged well. I’m not sure if it is meth OR alcohol OR poverty, but this poor woman looks beat up. I think about it for a moment and decide that in the case of Mr. Poke-her, this woman could be any willing vagina to walk through the door. What does he care what she looks like? Why should he worry about her background or history? In that split second, I decide that my pretty little pussy is now going to be entirely off-limits to Mr. Poke-her.
I didn’t like being with him anyway.
It’s true that I don’t have a lot of examples to support my point about married men. And, it’s probably not fair to lump a whole group together when my experience is so limited. All the same, I think I’ll stick with single guys.
I’ll take the hot, young single guys who like to treat me well, care about whether the sex is interesting or not, and who won’t just settle for anyone because the one at home is no longer willing to put out.