Talkin Dirty

"Have I got a knock-knock joke for you..."

“Have I got a knock-knock joke for you…”

The fun stuff about sex isn’t just insert A into B (or in some cases, insert F7 into B4), but the goings-on in-between. The licking, the rubbing, the sucking, the tugging (me trying to get my jeans off) and, most deliciously, the color commentary that accompanies every move, every touch, every thrust.

Talking dirty isn’t for everyone. Indeed, for those who are more single-minded when focused on the task at hand, trying to come up with proper filthy elucidation is like trying to text and drive. While washing a cat. When I have tried to prompt a gentleman caller to verbal intercourse who is of this persuasion, the exchange usually goes like this:
ME: “Mmm, yeah, baby, that feels sooooo good! Ooooh…talk dirty to me sugar, please?”
HIM: “Uuuunnh…uuunh…wha? Uhhh, I wanna fuck you. Yeah, I wanna fuck you.”
ME: “Umm, yeah, sweetie, you actually are fucking me, isn’t that great? What ELSE do you wanna do to me? C’mon, let me hear it!”
HIM: “I wanna fuck, I wanna fuck, I wanna–F-U-U-U-U-U-U-C-K-K-K-K-K-U-H-H-H!!!” *end*

Sometimes you get a dirty talker so fierce that he should run for President of the National Obscene Callers Association. Which is all kinds of awesome. Unless:
ME: “Mmm, yeah, baby, that feels sooooo good! Ooooh…talk dirty to me sugar, please?”
HIM: “Oh yeah you stupid fucking cunt, I’ll talk dirty to your nasty, smelly ass…I’m gonna fuck you until your brains come out of your nose…then I’m gonna skull fuck you. Then I’m gonna take a bag of kittens and drown the shit outta them and then dump them all over your corpse and fuck them too. Then I’m gonna eat your tongue.”
ME: “Heh, heh. Well. That sounds great. Oh, hey, is that the SWAT Team I ordered?”

So yes, there is a fine line between an erotic exchange and, say, a cry for help. Talking dirty is an art form, tapping into creative resources normally reserved for poetry and painting, or doing your taxes. Cursing is like the icing on the cake – a necessary component, but if it’s the only ingredient then your pillow talk starts to sound like a Tourette’s Meet-Up. Here’s a few tips:
-Aint nothing like anticipation. Build up to the big climax, just like they do in those Transformer movies.
-Tell, don’t show. Describe, in lurid detail, exactly what you’re doing, what you’re going to do, and what you’ve always dreamed of doing. Heaven!
-Don’t be polite. But don’t be fucking scary. Think truck driver meets Hemingway, not Jason Voorhees meets Leatherface.

Need some practice? Try some good, old-fashioned phone sex. Just remember, it’s $3.00 a minute, standard carrier rates apply.

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