I’m leaving for France next month, and this is the first time I’m going to
be on my own for an entire month with no parents, chaperones, or people who will
gossip about me to my “nice” church-going family.Anyway, I am determined to get
laid while I’m in France. It’s the other side of the world; no one knows me. I
can be whoever I want and completely lose control. Except that the one thing I
can’t seem to do is lose control. Orgasms are all good and stuff, but I never
get off when I’m with a guy. I can only get off alone. Granted, I’m not that experienced:
I’ve only seen two penises that didn’t belong to members of my family. But the
sight of those two cocks didn’t turn me on in the slightest.
The passion is clearly there when it comes to the male sex, at least when
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...didn’t turn me on in the slightest.
The passion is clearly there when it comes to the male sex, at least when
it comes to fantasies; but in the real world, there doesn’t seem to be a guy
out there who can make me come. So what is my problem? I want to have the time
of my life in Europe. (And yes, Dan, I will be using condoms: I have learned
that much and more from you. After all, I have been reading Savage Love since
seventh grade!) I want so badly to get off with a man! Any insight into this
rather irritating situation would be greatly appreciated.
Orgasmless in Seattle
Look, don’t you worry about not being turned on at the sight of some guy’s penis. Penises, in and of themselves, are not all that friggin’ exciting. What makes a cock interesting or exciting is the person it’s attached to. For all we know, Henry Kissinger’s penis looks like it was carved in Carrara marble by Michelangelo himself (who knew a thang or two about penises), but so what if it does? Henry Kissinger is icky, and his penis, whatever it looks like, is unlikely to set a young lady’s heart racing. And while poor Henry once observed that power is the ultimate aphrodisiac, Henry’s been out of power for quite some time now, so his penis is no longer being graded on the power curve, which is too bad for Henry.
Now Freddie Prinze Jr.’s penis, on the other hand, just so happens to be attached to Freddie Prinze Jr., which would make his penis an exciting sight no matter what it looked like. As you mature, my young friend, you’ll learn that penises are a lot like real estate: It’s all about location, location, location. My guess is that those two unexciting penises were in poor locations; i.e., between the legs of Henrys and not Freddies. If this is the case, my advice is to try your luck with a Freddie. If those two penises were attached to Freddies, well, maybe you’re a lesbian. And, finally, if (God forbid) you should again find yourself in bed with a Henry, close your eyes and think of Freddie.
Now, the whole orgasm problem (you didn’t have one with either of these Henrys) is a separate and distinct problem from the hideous sight of unarousing penises. As inexperienced as you are, you were probably having sex with boys who were equally inexperienced, or, if that wasn’t the case, with boys who were inept. Inexperienced and/or inept boys rarely make sure their partners are sufficiently aroused before they start banging away. Furthermore, most inexperienced and/or inept boys aren’t aware that seven out of 10 women require direct clitoral stimulation above and beyond penetration in order to climax. Many women aren’t aware of this fact. If you weren’t getting tongue/finger/deep-rub action directly on your clit prior to and during intercourse, well, it’s no wonder neither of those Henrys made you come.
So what to do? First, if you do get lucky in France, make sure the person whose cock you’re looking at is a Freddie and not a Henry, and tell him what you’ve told me: You’re orgasmic; you’ve had orgasms; but neither of the boys you’ve slept with provided you with the necessary stimulation in order to get off. Most men, especially French men, will, if a woman is up-front about her needs and desires, do whatever it takes to get her off. Again, if you require stimulation above and beyond penetration, as most women do, simply tell the French boy to stimulate you with his fingers while he’s fucking you, or stimulate yourself while he takes care of the screwing.
But please be careful. There are diseases you can contract even while using condoms–HPV, herpes, etc.–so don’t run around acting like the biggest slut in the European Union just because you’re away from home. You can be choosy and still get laid. Also, if you’re 18, you’re old enough to drink in Europe, but don’t let that go to your head. Don’t get blasted drunk with strange French men in strange French places, and don’t let anyone buy you drinks, as date rape drugs are as easy to come by in Europe as they are in North America.
A sound way to weed out the good French Freddies from the bad French Freddies is by making up your mind not to fuck any Freddie the night you meet him. If he’s cool, if he’s into you, if he’s a Freddie and not a Henry, he’ll take your phone number and wait a day or two to get into your pants. If you meet some French boy who pressures you to fuck him that night–if he won’t take “here’s my phone number” for an answer–then he’s probably bad news. At home or abroad, any guy who insists that he absolutely, positively has to fuck you that night is probably a scumbag, or has a girlfriend at home, or is potentially violent. Seduction can quickly morph into pressure, which can quickly morph into violence. Be wary. French boys are foxy, I agree, but like foxy boys everywhere, French boys can’t be trusted when they’re horny.
Finally, I assume you don’t speak fluent French, so I’ve prepared a letter of introduction for you. Clip the following paragraph, have it laminated, and keep it with your passport. If you find yourself being romanced by a Freddie who doesn’t speak much English, simply hand him this note.
“Hé Frenchie! Je m’appelle Chelsea, et mes parents sont des Personne Très Importantes. Partout oú je vais je suis suivie par quatre garde-du-corps. Tu ne peux pas les voir, je sais, mais si on les appelle Services Secrets c’est qu’il y a bien une raison. Mais détrompe-toi mon garçon car si tu poses un seul doigt sur moi sans mon consentement, quatre mecs baraqués et en costard sortiront de l’ombre et te battront à mort. Tu me suis? Alors écoute mon garçon, je suis ici pour un mois et je veux baiser; juste tirer un coup, tu comprends, rien de sérieux. Alors retournons à ma chambre d’hôtel. Cependant avant que je ne me déshabille, ta quéquette et toi prendront une bonne douche bien chaude car si je veux goêter un fromage français, je peux très bien aller à la crémerie du coin. Pigé? On utilisera des capotes et tu me broutteras la chatte. Et si, par malheur, je n’ai pas d’orgasme, mes agents des Services Secrets s’arrangeront pour que toi, tu ne puisses plus jamais en avoir. Enfin, si tu es vraiment un bon coup, après avoir baisé nous pourrons aller dévaliser un Macdo. D’ac?”
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