Right, long story short here – Jock picked me up last night. We haven’t had sex in AGES. I’ve been bleeding every five minutes, and our schedules haven’t exactly worked together. I was excited for last night. I would get to feel him inside me. I would get to feel his fingertips brushing my nipples. I’d feel his warm breath on my skin as he kissed his way around my body… I was super excited.
So, I got ready. And then it didn’t happen. I am furious!
Now guys, I don’t think you understand exactly how much hard work goes into getting ready for a date, especially a date that you wholeheartedly expect to get laid on. Let me educate you…
I showered. In the shower, I used no less than FIVE different products. I shampooed with the coconut shampoo that he seems to like the smell of. I conditioned my hair with the coconut conditioner that again, he seems to like the smell of. Then I used a luxurious shower gel to lather up my entire body, and to create the soap to shave my legs, my armpits, my bikini line, etc. This act of shaving, just FYI, takes about half an hour. I almost always cut myself when I do it. Which means the next stage always stings like a bitch.
Next I used a luxurious body scrub on my ass, legs and thighs. Jock loves my legs and he always runs his hands up and down them so I like to make sure they are baby-smooth and completely hairless. I’d love to have had the time for a wax. Humph.
Then, to clean my most intimate of areas, I used a feminine body wash. He loves to go down on me so you know, I like to make sure that it incompletely hairless and smelling beautiful.
I get out of the shower. I spray conditioning treatments on my hair. I moisturise every part of my body with the luxurious African shea butter moisturiser he goes bonkers for. I use a foot cream to make sure my feet are nice and smooth. I use a hemp-based cream on my knees and elbows. I use a face cream on my face. Then there’s the hand cream. If my hands are going to playing with his cock later, I don’t want them to be rough! Oh and although I didn’t this time, if I had been wearing a skirt or a dress, I would have needed to put some kind of self-tan on my legs. Or arms. Perhaps both.
Now my skin smells good and feels beautiful to touch. All of this for him. Well, for me too, but for him more.
I sit down to apply my makeup. The precision needed to apply that eye-liner would impress any man or woman, I can tell you that. The foundation and concealer necessary to hide the under-eye bags that show my late nights, and the blemishes that ALWAYS pop up the day you plan to see your man. I look dog-rough without makeup. I have accepted and embrace this fact. I think most women have by this point. Before all of this, however, there’s the primer to smooth out my face, the eye cream to avoid eye-wrinkles, the lip balm to ensure my lips are kissably soft later…
Makeup completed, I dry my hair. I then decide on a hairstyle and straighten the bits that need to be straightened, curl the bits that need to be curled, and pin the bits that need to be pinned.
Then I get dressed. Outfit planning is always the hardest thing for me. I like to look super cute for Jock. We don’t see each other that often so I don’t want to look like a tramp in a onesie when I do see him. Not that I own a onesie, but you get what I’m saying here. So, I pick the outfit. Then I plan the shoes. Then I pick the accessories. Then the perfume – my hair doesn’t smell like J’Adore for no reason. The spritz in the air as you walk through the mist, plus the extra squirts around the neck (where he’ll be kissing later) and the wrists (that he’ll be holding above my head).
I’m still not finished. I now need to plan subsequent outfits to pack in a bag to take with me. I also need to make sure I’ve got all the chargers for the many gadgets I own, my laptop, my phones, the adapter so that we can watch films on my iPad on his TV…. etc. Have I packed enough pants? Do I have hair ties? Did I put the hairspray in that bag? Will I need socks. Is one pair of sneakers enough or shall I take a pair of pumps too? Honestly, it’s just hard work.
Then, I need to brush my teeth and give myself a final once over in the bathroom mirror. The lighting is different in there so I get a good opinion from two sources. I lock my room, head to the front door and finally get in the car. This is a good night too – this isn’t the night where I need to paint my toenails or remove the fuzz from my top lip.
Women put a lot of effort into getting ready for their men, and their men get to reap the benefits so I personally don’t see why guys moan about girls taking too long in the bathroom. Technically, it’s all for you anyway.
Well anyway, after all of this, making his dinner, snuggling the shit out of him and even saying “If you go get in the shower, there will be a naked girl in the bed waiting for you when you get out”, I didn’t get laid.
What the fuck?
He ended up going to get the Redneck from the bar with his new wife. I fell asleep because I’d been awake since 5am. The next thing I knew, it was the middle of the night, he was snoring so loud the trailer was shaking, and I wanted to stab him in the heart. And we hadn’t had sex. I had gone to all that hard work, looking all cute and smelling all pretty, and I still didn’t get the golden ticket?! And they call us girls prick teases?!?
I was livid. You see, the thing that you guys won’t get is tomorrow, we won’t be as baby smooth. The start of the stubble will be rearing it’s ugly head, and if we try to shave over it, not only will it rip our most delicate of areas to shreds, it’ll look red, bumpy and ugly. The same can be said for our legs. You have night one to make an impression boys. Think of it as your window. That first night is the night that you don’t climax inside her if you haven’t yet eaten her out yet. Think about this. It’s hardly rocket science, is it?
Oh and to top things off even further, I started bleeding again. So tonight is out the window too. Cheers Jock. Sarcastic face.
There is a moral to this story guys – if she smells all pretty and looks super cute, she’s made an effort for her so you had better try your damned hardest to perform.
End of rant.