It is nearly impossible for humans to not put things in order. We are inherently organized animals. It was probably our primary survival tactic during our evolutionary development… or part of our Free Will (term used with raised eyebrow) programming inserted by the Bearded One so we could tend His garden for about three seconds. Personally, I would rather have talons or predestined programming from the Eternal Computer Nerd, but I do not really have a choice. Organization is just engraved into our psyches so that there is a best and a worst, a first and a last, or a Aerosmith and a Poison.
As a polyamorous individual, I work hard on making sure my loves (family and sexy playmates) know that I do not have a hierarchy for them. There is no first, or most important, or Aerosmith Club Level among them. My personal motto is, “Different, but equal,” which means that although every relationship is different in its rules, expectations, and rewards, I value them all equally. Several times I have debated monogamists about this equality, and inevitably my opponent creates a false dilemma situation to show that I value one lover over another:
“If a terrorist had a gun to your wife and Girlfriend, and told you to choose which one would die… who do you choose to save? You can’t save them both.”
“I save my Girlfriend.”
“See! You love her more!”
“No. I save her because she has an autistic son who would struggle for the rest of his life without his mom around. Since my love for them is equal, I have to make the decision based on ancillary considerations like that.”
But although I do avoid the ranking of my affections, I am not immune to other forms of the human organization impulse when it comes to relationships. This was brought to my attention as I had two separate conversations with current lovers about who has the best vagina. First, I chuckled at the question because it means that women are just as concerned with the quality of their pussy as men are with their cocks. Then I was cornered as I was, in fact, required to give an answer to my wife: All three of you have wonderful crotch canyons, but for very different reasons. I described each one and what I liked about it, and that made them happy. Until I opened my big mouth…
“Besides, none of you have the best vagina I’ve ever been with.”
Ouch. So close.
Luckily, I was not in too much trouble. I am lucky that I have ladies who enjoy and appreciate honesty. Besides, my Girlfriend was willing to admit that I do not have the best dick she’s ever been with (I am number two), although I do have the honor of being the best sexual event she’s ever been a part of (39 orgasms in two days). So it is not just men who rank sexual partners like the WTA ranks tennis players; even innocent (comparatively) ladies have favorites that do not have anything to do with how much love is in the relationship.
Because of the insatiable curiosity of my loves, I have graded every partner I have ever had with the classic school letter grade system. First, let me assure everyone out there that this grade is not a reflection on just the woman – it is a grade of the entire volume of experience, including my performance and her satisfaction. Second, let me also assure everyone that I am protecting the identities of these ladies as best as I can by giving them a nickname icon instead of just yelling out, “I fucked <blank> and man, I felt bad for her husband at the time!”
I have some class. I think.
Oh dear god, what have I been thinking for the past twenty years? The sex is atrocious! Her large, apple shaped ass up in the air just makes me bored and I’ve seen tighter pussies in Barely Eighteen porn videos. I can rarely keep up my erection with her for more than thirty minutes, and the explosive orgasms are just over and done with in an instant. Plus, I bite her large nipples too hard and play with her ultra-sensitive clit way too much. Not to mention how she complains about my abysmal cunnilingus. She has to bark like a dog to fake any enjoyment at all. I am really not sure why we keep trying.
A skinny girl with perky A-cup titties and labia lips the size of a kitchen sponge becoming sticky with her cum as she bounced up and down on my cock? Please. No one wants that. Plus, she was totally into having threesomes with my first lover and me which just put tremendous pressure on me to perform. I, of course, failed miserably and only once shot a huge load across her face.
This short, curly-haired high school sweetheart crawled back into my life for some of the most myopic sex anyone has ever had in the history of fucking. Dying fish are more lively than she was on the mattress, and my semi-erect dick could not even find the right hole easily. I think her ass had been used more often than her pussy, which is weird because she had a son. Plus, I had started developing my old man paunch and smacked her in the forehead with my belly fat once or twice as I tried desperately to pound some feeling into her G-spot.
How can a pussy be both tight and loose? It was like fucking a bi-polar vacuum hose. She had such an outrageous foot fetish that she would cum down her thighs putting on her own socks and made me suck on her toes for hours on end. Then I would be forced to take erotic pictures of her in different poses and outfits before having sex so loud that the people in the hotel room next door would complain to the management.
Ever have a partner who was so willing to have a go at a good fucking at the drop of a hat but would then just lay there like a piece of beige construction paper? Then she would smoke a cigarette for every orgasm she had and go through a pack a night. No one has the money for that. Plus, I hated how easily she folded in half for deep thrusts. Felt like I was diving into the Grand Canyon.
Hour upon hour of sucking a clit until she screamed for me to stop? Please. And all those cleavage pictures she would send to me as inspiration? Lame. She could only make me about 110% erect, which is just such a letdown.
Another woman who insisted on her feet being played with, and they smelled like sweat socks and fresh cut grass. I am allergic to grass. She made me break out in drool every time, and I lost many a shirt to awful, wet collars.
An ambulance screeching down the street was about half as loud as the orgasm I finally managed to coax out of her. I ended up having to wear protection on my ears every time. My fingers became pickled from manually manipulating her like a puppet. Pretty sure she is the cause of my carpal tunnel symptoms.
What can you say about a woman you licked once for twenty minutes? I could not eat tuna for a week without becoming wistful. Pretty sure she could not hear someone slurping soup without imagining my half-assed attempt at siphoning her gas.
The one time we actually got naked together, she was colder than Mr. Freeze’s dead wife and my dick was softer than Charmin toilet paper. We talk a much better game than we actually played. She definitely needed to learn that there is a big difference between a masochist submissive and an uninterested sex doll. Plus her tits were way too big.
Oh sure, there was the one weekend when she had somewhere in the neighborhood of forty orgasms. And yes, she can shoot a cum squirt rainbow about five feet into the air. But it tastes like apple juice. Who wants apple juice? We all know orange is the superior juice. Plus she arches her back like a backwards cat when she wants to orgasm, nearly shoving her special button into my face as a demand. And my dick is too curved for her taste.
In case her brothers ever decide to read my blog… this never happened. I do not know why she is even on my list. Honest. This is some kind of mistake. But her nipples were long enough to feel like fingers in my mouth, and my five o’clock shadow scratched off several of her freckles and beauty marks. She likes to remind me that I am one of her biggest mistakes, and I like to remind her that I am one of her biggest mistakes.
The latest in a long line of just awful sex, apparently. Her big boobs suffocate me if I get too close, and her ass blocks my view of the television when we bang over the ottoman in the living room. How am I supposed to enjoy my rerun episodes of Archer with her white butt in the way? Plus, my dick is too straight for her taste.
A – Awful. Never again.
B – Bad. Only if drunk.
C – Clingy. Make sure to run.
D – Deplorable. Rather do a couch cushion.
F – Fuckable. Would bang her again in a heartbeat.
Have a sexual partner and experience you would like to grade for the entire Internet to find and read? Share in the comments, or feel free to email me here.