Ins and Outs on the Ups and Downs that include some Notes on the Cut, Thrust and Parry that is part of the Great Game--Sexual Politics. And encompassing too Single Men and Women and the Pleasures of Youth.

Friday

Getting a gorgeous gay going

She was, she said, still mulling all this around two in the morning. Even if this was no big deal. Nerves, that's all, she supposed. His nerves.
Only wasn't a real woman supposed to make even a pork chop pop? Get its primal thing done? Get a man up--waay up--and away? And he was a man, after all.
The Movement always said that the one and only cause for the world's unhappiness, and all the world's problems, was a man's animal nature. If only a man could spend his life, quietly, unaroused. That he couldn't stop himself from getting up caused world wars since Helen of Troy.
So...what would The Movement make of this man? After all, she was beautiful. And he had told her so, and many were the times too.
He listened to her talk of her gay friend with interest. He thought that, secretly, she always imagined she could get any guy going. Any guy--even a gorgeous gay.
After all, her gay friend had told her how beautiful she was. Hadn't he? Many times.

Going with a Gorgeous Gay

Sometimes he can be amazingly jealous, raving about it, on and on. He will remind her of every man he has ever found her with, the man with the thin black mustache, the man who ate two bowls of potato chips, the Marlboro man...
Sometimes he will truly make a scene, really carry on. Accuse her of being a mucho woman.
He invented the word himself. Mucho woman.
'For every mucho woman,' he tells her, 'somewhere lies a broken penis.'

Saturday

What she has to put up with being a slut

Men think of her as a slut, easy lay, fuck, bitch, cunt and whore. And come bucket too.
Slop. They also think of her as a slop. Pull a train, and you get that reputation. You'll be a slop.
Women not only call her such names, they want her to live in another country--or be dead and buried.
And she, herself? What does she think?
She does not care what men or women say or think, and anyway she wants to die young.
She wants a good time, and she will die young, and dying young will take care of everything.
And if she doesn't fuck herself to death, she'll drug herself to death.That's what she'll do.
Who wants to be twenty five?
And why not?
Daddy's fault, if anybody's. Daddy never loved her.

Sunday

Not proud of his turn on

Arguments and Weeping Woman Syndrome...were practically guaranteed to get him hard. Fast.
He wasn't proud of himself. Practically like a disease...this fucking condition, he said.
It often happened when they had a humongous, crazy, stupid argument, and then she finally broke down and dissolved into a sea of tears. And wanted to kind of repent, or something. Be forgiven.
Symptoms for him were mainly a very hard prick.
Should be a better man, practically a disorder of some kind, like he said.
But, see...can't stop himself. Can't. Not proud of himself, okay? No, not proud of his...weakness.
He will let her take it out anyway. See, she wants to, this is what she wants. And let her wet-n'-wash it with tears off her cheeks, make it more salty. She seems to like that a lot, his stupid prick pressing against her face, drying her tears. And putting it in her mouth like a damned comforter babies used.
Oh, he'll admit it! He got some of his biggest hard ons like this. Strongest fucking orgasms. Crazy, he knows. Crazy. But there it is.
Like he said, he isn't proud, but finds this irresistible. In this sense some crazy arguments were practically worthwhile, but he never deliberately provoked them. He isn't that sick.