That Sound

First things first,* there are two types of people:

1. People who love them the fuck out of having someone sucking and slobbering and licking on their ears. And

2. People who don’t. (Shrug)

And you can plant me solely in camp #2.

Not only do I not love it, I also don’t hate it.

  • Which means I couldn’t care less for it. It does absolutely nothing for me. So, don’t bother. Focus on my neck instead. I don’t want to worry if I lost a diamond earring anyway.
  • But hey, if you LIKE doing it, then go to town. I will neither suffer through or mildly enjoy that total waste of saliva and tongue muscle. All for your jollies. You’re welcome.
  • But…there are #1’s out there. And you gotta find out which one you’re dealing with, right?
  • And in my personal life experiences, I never got the tingles from any ear lobe action. So, I am not really sure what the heck to do, so I generally improvise.
  • But all of those personal life experiences did teach me one thing: That Sound that escapes the mouth of the person who JUST got the serious tingles from whatever just occurred to them, on them, in them, or other. (Please note Oxford Comma. Thank you.)
  • It sort of starts out as an “Oh,” and even an “Oh my God.” But then sort of might be a “Holy shit” where they might have to hold on to a steady surface. But truly not even a word, just a humming sound, mixed with rapid breaths. A little littler death.
  • Hypothetically let’s say, I am riding shotgun and my hot new friend is driving. Strikes hypothetical me as the perfect time to find out if he’s a 1 or a 2.
  • That makes his right ear closest to me. So, hypothetically of course I start with the neck, because that’s a spot for me! Might be a spot for him. If I don’t hear That Sound,
  • (And girls, you know what sound I mean!Cuz you’ve all heard it at least once. And the freaks even more! *high five*)
  • That tells me we might have a 1 on deck.
  • I go straight for the ear lobe. Gimme that fucker. I kiss it, lick it, suck it, then bite it. Straight up up the ear and down again to the pretty perfect earlobe.

  • And that makes my right ear about even with his mouth with those fat lips. And that is when I get an up close and personal concert with That Sound. Coming straight out of that mouth. His mouth. The one I want on me.
  • There is something so satisfying about that sound! So simple but so sexy. Strong signal you are doing something very right. It’s pure instinct. And I did that! Again, *high fives*
  • Without missing a hypothetical beat, I say, in the ear – tell me when we get to a stop sign. Then proceed to bury most of my face is the softest part of his neck, above his collarbone.
  • As he asks why, he also happens to stop. At a actual stop sign. A sign.
  • My nails instinctively dig into his thigh, right above his knee. My ring and pinky fingers the only two touching flesh. The others burning through his shorts.
  • Time to abandon the ear. Thanks, old pal. You did the trick. I will take it from here.
  • Without even glancing out the windshield, I would get all up on him, and kiss him like he deserves to be kissed. Like a man!
  • Say shit like that, oh you’re the big man. Call him Daddy, or whatever. They love that shit. Age difference doesn’t even matter.
  • The last thing I would probably remember would be my tugging on his bottom lip, and once that super tingly kiss had a break, we rest our foreheads together, almost to give our minds time to catch up to what our bodies were clearly already feeling.
  • That is how I personally would find out if bae is a 1 or a 2, as well as how to get him to make That Sound.
  • Who knows what I am talking about?
  • xojmo
  • * First things first, I’m the realest (realest)
    Drop this and let the whole world feel it (let ’em feel it
    And I’m still in the murder business
    I can hold you down, like I’m givin’ lessons in physics (right)
    You should want a bad bitch like this (ha)
    Drop it low and pick it up just like this (yeah)
    Cup of Ace, cup of Goose, cup of Cris
    High heels, somethin’ worth a half a ticket on my wrist (on my wrist)
    Takin’ all the liquor straight, never chase that (never)
    Rooftop like we bringin’ ’88 back (what)
    Bring the hooks in, where the bass at?
    Champagne spillin’, you should taste that
  • – Fancy, Iggy

    P.S. I wrote this on the WordPress App, and I have to idea why those bullets are there. I certainly did not use them on purpose. Once I can get to this on my PC, I will immediately change it. It is distracting! Apologies. jm

    Let’s Get Personal

    Craigslist is a great place to sell your old records, or perhaps buy some new (used) ones. They even have job listings. But there’s a whole other section that many of you may not even know about:

    The Personals.

     

    There are a lot of choices there, huh?  I’ll be honest: A few years ago, to fight boredom, I placed an “ad” in the “Strictly Platonic” section. Naive, for sure.  I wanted to talk about a favorite Muppet, or what kind of cheese you prefer on your burger. Dumb stuff. Sort of like a chat room, but email instead. Again, just for fun, and just to pass the time. I’ve continued to do so over the years and boy, have my eyes been OPENED!

    Apparently men don’t understand what “Strictly Platonic” means. Yes, I’ve gotten inappropriate pictures. I’ve been flirted with. And even downright propositioned. So recently I thought, if this is what happens in Strictly Platonic, then what the hell happens in those other categories?!

    Oh, did I forget to mention that most (not all) of the guys that respond to my Strictly Platonic ads are married? I know this because they tell me. Not right away at first. But eventually it comes out. One even told me that he once gave himself a blow-job. (I dunno…)

    Delete.

    I just wanted to talk about the Olympics. Jeez.

    So…my brain got to thinking…I’m going to post a ridiculous ad in the Casual Encounters section SPECIFICALLY asking for married man to hit me up.

    I have gotten 135 responses to my ad so far.

    Who are these men? I don’t know much about them. Fake names and secret email addresses. But many openly admit that they are married. Some throw their wives right under the bus, citing health reasons as to why their wives won’t have sex with them anymore. Or that they only like missionary and that they won’t go down on their husbands anymore. Most responses are lewd and extremely graphic, explaining in detail what they would like to do to me (and they don’t even know me or what I look like). Some send pictures, without my asking, of themselves and/or their private parts.

    They use lingo that I wasn’t familiar with and had to ask (D/D means “disease and drug free”). This isn’t their first time at the rodeo. But it’s their first time at the rodeo with JMo.

    What’s to come might be TOO graphic for some. (No penis pics I promise) It might even leave you incredulous. But again I ask you:

    Who are these men?

    They are married men in the Boston area (and one from Nebraska!) that saw my post and pounced on it.

    And guess what, I even knew one of them.

    Looking for Lust in All the Wrong Places…coming soon. I promise, it’ll make you think twice about what your husband is doing in his office during the day…and at night.

    Stay tuned,

    xojmo