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Who cares what the reasons are? At Ken 'n' Ariel airlines, we don't check
the baggage, we just nudge you towards your desired destination. So here's
my shove: Next time you and loverboy are doing laundry, watching Nick at
Nite, or picking your toenails in tandem, turn to him and say, right out
of the blue, "Don't you just LOVE oral sex?!" Say it with a
gleam in your eye, show lots of teeth, and, most important, look as though
you just figured it out yesterday and are dying to try it out.
After he gives the pat response, "Hell YEAH!" and starts
struggling with his belt buckle, launch into an incredibly detailed
recollection of one of your former lovers, who was so adept at eating the
pudding that your toes were permanently cramped for weeks. Then go on and
on about how the neighbors called animal control because of your shouting,
how you temporarily lost consciousness after banging your noggin on the
headboard, how incredibly and utterly fantastic this dude was, until your
man's nostrils start to flare like a bull's.
If all goes to plan, he'll say, "Oral sex, huh? I'll show you who's
good at deep sea diving!" And he'll then do just that. And you'll
probably have to stop him after a few minutes because he's not going to
know what the hell he's doing down there, like he's trying to place a
collect call to China with his tongue or what have you.
But be patient, stock up on whipped cream and ice cubes, and relish the
fact that you've got an eager and very willing student.
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Oral
sex has always been that sort of curious middle ground in any
relationship. Of course, the rap on guys is that they only give oral sex
to receive it (though, let's face it--the same thing can be said about a
lot of women in this big wonderful world). Your man, however, is throwing
off the bell curve by refusing any sort of reciprocation whatsoever.
Now, there are a lot of ways to remedy this situation. You can take
Ariel's suggestion of conjuring the names of ex-lovers who tongue-whipped
you into blissful submission. Or you can stomp your feet and wring your
fists, insisting that your crotch deserves every bit of the attention that
you're lavishing on his. Or you could write your congressperson.
The most effective way, however, is to do what every undervalued worker
in this country does--go on strike! Simply inform your man that until he
gets his tongue into gear, you'll be keeping yours in drydock. Hey, there
are labor laws in effect to support this--why not use 'em to your
advantage?
You can even utilize unfair practices to see that your demands are met.
For example, after a couple days on the picket line, just plop yourself in
your boyfriend's lap and start slowly working over a cherry popsicle.
Chances are that he'll beat a path to the bargaining table faster than you
can say "Jimmy Hoffa."
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