Why do you judge me Chicken?

Good Morrow Lovers! And a happy Sunday night to you all!

Although, let’s face it, unless Monday is a public holiday Sunday nights are pretty much the worst night of the week. Want to know how I staved off the Sunday blues? Watched a documentary all about Ivan Milat, Australia’s worst serial killer.

Woo hoo! Come at me Monday! 😉

But seriously though, I actually have had quite the dramatic weekend full of ups and downs and not being able to get it up again. However all of this is still processing in my one track mind so you’ll have to wait a few days for me to hash it all out (and hopefully see a certain someone again to see if their walk is as good as their talk.) So let’s get back to Rick shall we? Good news, we finally get to do it! Well, after a few minor hiccups involving a chicken. You’ll get it, trust me.

Rick and I were floating in that honeymoon bubble that so many new couples experience. The only difference with our particular bubble, was that there was no sex involved, which really if you think about it, was kind of convenient. Nobody wants their bubble smelling like stale sex. No, ours was squeaky clean, a little too clean actually, and we were both in quite a hurry to mess that bad boy up. But I was also very wary about trying again. After all, the only experience I had ever had was Charlie, and lets face it, a carrot and a cucumber are very different things.

One night, Rick decided to put the moves on. I was all for it, and excitement coursed through me. Now this is the part they talk about in those ‘special alone time books’ It’s where the girl is so overcome with lust and adrenalin that she practically pees on the guys face she’s so ready. He is astounded with her eagerness for him and slams straight into her no questions asked, and they continue on in that fashion for the next few pages. In real life however, things can be a tad more complicated. My brain was singing some wet song in my head, burning for some sexy time. My neck was all shivery and deliciously tickled by his tongue flitting back and forth across it. My stomach was in the most intriguing set of knots that felt oh so good for no apparent reason. It was like butterflies with fairy-floss, tickling my skin from the inside. My legs were tensed, waiting for the very exciting action to start. And of course my… well, you know… nothing! I was turned on to the max, but the downstairs area was closed for re–modeling. Would have been nice if I could have been notified in advance, like when they turn off your power for the day. I kissed Rick long and hard, trying to kick-start my annoying G spot, which apparently was away for the weekend. How could this happen? I was lying half naked with a very hot tattooed man on top of me, doing everything he could to please me, and I was as dry as an alcoholics anonymous meeting! Oh the shame! So of course when that pivotal moment came, and Rick attempted to make sweet sweet love to me, he couldn’t even get past the screen door. I was horrified. I was bad at sex! I was one of those people guys talked about when all the girls have left the building. I couldn’t even fit it in! Damn you teeny tiny vagina!

I ran outside, clad only in my t-shirt. (It’s so frustrating that whenever you try to do dramatic storm outs it always the middle of bloody winter.) I tip toed into his backyard, trying to avoid the frost and sank down near the chicken pen. They’re soft clucks soothed me, until I realized that they could push eggs out of their sweet spots, whereas I couldn’t even fit anything in! Scowling at them, I moved further away, shivering in the cold. I had told Rick I had to go to the bathroom, and it says something for men’s lack of intuition that he believed me. I resolved to stay out there for as long as possible, as punishment for my total failure in the area of natural bodily functions. What type of girlfriend was I? If I couldn’t fit it where it belongs, how was I supposed to do any of the other things girls were always jabbering on about? That whole hot dogging thing was definitely out what with the size of my boobs, so that was why it was so important I be amazing at everything else. I sighed in frustration, but it came out as more of a wheeze as the cold started to constrict my lungs. Holy shit, what is this, Antarctica? After another ten minutes or so, I saw Rick emerge from his room and go inside looking for me. He asked his Mum if she had seen me, but I knew what her and Stan had been doing for the last ten minutes so she of course said no. Seriously some people really need to get curtains, you never know who’ll be watching you in the backyard. Needless to say I could see why she was dating him, go trucker! Rick eventually realized I wasn’t in the house and came outside with a torch. It was a very deer in headlights moment when he eventually found me in the torch beam. The fact that I was clutching one of the chickens for warmth didn’t help either. After depositing Henny as I had called her, back in with the other girls Rick took me back to his room. All I could think about was how much Henny and the girls must be laughing at me right now, poor eggless humanoid.

Shut up Henny, at least I won’t end up on the table.

Oh yes I showed her. Eventually Rick dragged me from my chicken revenge schemes and back to the present. I didn’t know what to say. How do you tell your boyfriend that you think you may not have been made for sex? That in the great factory of life the machinist had forgotten to insert a very important very particular box into my model? Even more degrading, was that Rick asked me if I was a virgin and had lied about Charlie. I was shocked that he could think I would lie to him, especially about something as important as that! I promptly told him the exact amount of times I had had sex to date (twenty one baby) and the fact that if I was a virgin when I saw his trouser snake I would have run screaming for the hills. This seemed to placate him a little but it did nothing to fix my problem. How does one get oneself, shall we say ‘wet’ for ones boyfriend?

Tricky, very tricky. Then it occurred to me, like a lightning bolt without the pain and sizzle of burning hair. Maybe I was having troubles with Rick because of Charlie. I never looked forward to sex with him. It was the done thing. I just went along with it as he didn’t have many hobbies and it was difficult to fill our time together with anything else.

Woah, epiphany much?

No wonder the old lady garden was seizing up at the thought of another intrusion into her peaceful life. Nothing good ever went in there, just the odd tampon and Charlie. Intriguing… Unfortunately all these thoughts were happening entirely in my head and Rick was left staring at me blankly as I self congratulated myself on another problem solved. I opened my mouth and the whole Charlie story poured out. How much I hated it when he smoked and blew it in my face to be ‘sexy.’ How I really didn’t like the fact he hid me from his family, even going so far as to throw a blanket over me when he needed to drop something at his sisters house. And how he never made me feel wanted, not once. Rick just looked at me, and for a moment I thought I’d blabbed my last blab. This was it, he was going to throw me out. Go crawling back to Henny, that’s what he’d say. But no, he didn’t say anything. He just leaned in, gave me a soft, yet bone deep kiss, and pulled me down next to him. He held me like that for I don’t know how long, minutes, hours, days, ok maybe not days, I’d need a sick note for work if it was days.

But the fact was, without saying a word, he showed me just how wanted I was, right there in that moment. And to make a long story short, it turns out there is such a thing called lubricant! (Most impressively, Rick purchased a self heating one!) Hallelujah my problems were over!

Yay for good sex!

Ok Lovers, here’s a little side note for you before I go. Whatever you do, DON’T use self heating lube in summer! Dear god in heaven, the agony! The sweet sweet burn! Unless you want to spend a good half an hour having ‘sexy’ shower time furiously hosing your bits off together I wouldn’t advise it.

Claire xx

Best Bonking Song: Let’t talk about sex

By: Salt n Pepper

Best Used: When you want your man to talk dirty to you but don’t know how to broach the subject. But of a sexy     striptease to that bad-boy and you’ll be perched on his lap talking pussies and painting the pickle in no time!

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