Dry humping on a narrow Res dorm bed….

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Yesterday’s mention of dry-humping made me think. I miss those dry-humping days. Those groping, bodice ripping, slammed against a wall, days of yester year. Okay maybe not quiet bodice ripping. I was born in 1973 and I’ve yet to wear a bodice, but still…..those panting, steaming hot heavy petting sessions.

These days everything is still great. It always has been. It’s just slower paced and has more love involved then pure unadulterated, impatient  lust.

It’s more like sipping wine and appreciating it, than downing a can of beer or knocking back a shooter. You know…? when you wanted that  instant gratification…. before the babies..before the sagging tits…before the sagging arse…..before Cellulite City bought the franchise from your “koek” to your ankles.

These days I have to put a pillow under my head for elevation during a bit of “vanilla” to avoid suffocation by my double chin. It’s difficult to arch your back, writhe from side to side and moan encouragingly. So many damn things to remember!

But, at the end of the day as much as I hold those memories of “dry-humping on a narrow Res dorm bed” with the greatest affection…I still prefer the comfort of knowing someone so well. Of throwing insecurities to the wind. Of laughing together. Of loving together. Fun times too.

 

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2 responses »

  1. I remember reading something by John Gray (he who wrote Men are from Mars, Woman are from Venus). Several years into marriage after a passionate evening, his wife commented that it was the best sex she’d ever had. He, having thought he was quite the stud in his younger days, was shocked that she would rate that over some of their earlier sessions. She explained that it was better for her because of the depth and duration of their love (no pun intended).

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