By continuing to use our site, you agree to our Private Policy and Terms of Use.
Scissoring. What's the big deal? I tried it and all I ended up with was a crushed ball and sore, purple bits. I didn't get what all the fuss was about.
Then my lezzies went and put my ass in check. Turns out that I need a vagina. I’m not so much in the market for one, but then they explained it to me, and while I love the guys and what I do with them, I was a smidge jealous upon hearing about this little sexual endeavor. It went something like this:
"Take the head of your penis. (Ugh, I hate that word. I hear the voices of my creepy doctor or high school health class teacher. Also, it’s a body part that is so much more fun than the dry, clinical word implies)... So, take your cock and when it’s at its best feeling, magnify that by a thousand and then magnify it by a shitload more because it's being pressed and rubbed against other lady bits, and there ya go; ya have the intense pleasure of what scissoring is all about.” While that’s how her description of the act ended, I imagine she actually finished the sentence in her head with "Muhahahaha, silly little gay."
Everything I can do (oral, anal, fingers...) ladies can do too. Then they have to go and get all triumphant with scissoring and one up me, leaving me with another jealous rant. I write this standing up ‘cause the attempts at scissoring, as stated above, didn’t go so well last night. That conversation also ended with “Muhahahaha.” Well, it actually ended with him saying “Don’t ever call me again.”
Check this in the 'W' column for the ladies.
Be SheWired's Friend on MySpace!
