Vicki Marie’s Sexy Summer Reading Series: One Chapter A Day
THE BACHELOR CHAPTERS: A THINKING WOMAN’S ROMANCE
Trish and I were in Palm Springs when I met Dylan Rizzo, the rock and roll musician that I’d uncovered from the weekend’s talent pool. He was on tour with Blondie, and we met at the hotel bar that hosted the bands for The Dinah, the four-star venue for the temporary Lesbian Nation that hit Palm Springs every spring. There were three thousand beautiful, bikinied and boy-shorted lesbians as far as the eye could see, and I had found one of the only ten men on campus.
He presented himself as a soft-spoken gentleman, in contrast to his black leather and spiked hair. I had no designs on a rocker dude, but when I learned of his position in Debbie Harry’s band, I couldn’t help but think that was cool. Maybe a bar conversation could lead to a backstage invitation and face time with a rock and roll legend. The man was young, tall, rock star handsome, presumably talented, and serenely reserved in manner and disposition. I wound up enjoying his company, and when he invited me to a private party with the band later that night, of course I said yes.
The party was in a hotel room with the road crew and the band members, but I was told the star always went to bed early, and never partied with the boys. And boys they were, young and old, and more goofy than cool. In his shy way, Dylan made it clear he wanted my middle-age ass, but I declined and left the hotel for the trailer and Trish.
My tune changed the following night, during the concert. My shy friend transformed into a passionate musician and a stage savvy singer. The kid was hotter than hot, and my stargazing was split between Harry and him. We partied again that night with his friends, and this time when he asked me back to his room I said yes.
Dylan Rizzo had a monster white dick, and his passion for me matched his earlier stage performance. He had been fucking me from behind, the best position for full entrance when the dick measured XL. The chemistry was hot and athletic and we were salty with sweat. He moved underneath me, took my nipple between his teeth, and went crazy with face-shaking stimulation. The dramatic gesture took me right back to the edge. Greedy and gifted, I came quickly: without a hand, a dick, or a mouth near my kitty-cat.
I was grateful, but not grateful enough to grant his next request. “No, baby, sorry. I don’t do that on the first date.”
Dylan Rizzo didn’t reply, just continued stroking my bum, creating a tender cup with his large palm. I closed my eyes, grateful for the pause. We had been at it awhile.
Dylan pulled away from my chest, brought his lips to my ear, and asked again, “Just suck it. For a minute, that’s all.” I had to compliment his strategy. Not persuaded, however, I repeated, “I just don’t.”
“Yeah, it’s our first date, but it won’t be our last,” he whispered softly, trying a new angle.
“Don’t go there,” I laughed. “You’re funny, baby. And maybe we will meet again one day. But really, it doesn’t matter. I just don’t do it.”
I adore the dick. I like the way it looks, the way it feels, the way it smells, and I like what it can do. But, I do not like to suck dick. I know the BJ is every man’s favorite position. I understand it’s the must-do on every man’s to-do list. I have been told time and again that I am the first woman who has said no.
My mouth is too small, the dicks are too big, and the result is an ache that contracts every muscle from my forehead to my neck. It was after fifteen years of lesbian sex that I discovered that dick-induced face cramps were not a turn on for me, which led me to a simple and unconflicted decision—I don’t go there. And besides, I’m no good at it. I refuse to hear one more man shout out, “stop—stop—stop!” because I dragged my teeth along his shaft.
“But I ate your pussy.”
“It’s not the same.”
“And I know you liked it.”
“Yes, I did. I hope you did it because you liked it. It was hot.”
“Don’t you think it’s only right if you do the same?” Men love logic, so I always countered with common sense.
“OK, baby, tell me—have you ever sucked dick?” There is nothing quite like the look on a straight man’s face when you put that picture in his head.
“Well, baby, I’ve sucked pussy and I’ve sucked dick—and you’re just going to have to trust me on this one—they’re just not the same. It’s not even close.”
I’ve had straight women fight me on this for not being equitable. I’ve had gay men go fish-eyed and shake their heads in sympathy for the straight brother in my bed. And I’ve had more than one helpful man on a barstool explain, “It’s not really painful—you must be doing it wrong.” Like he would know. This is the point where I remind the passionate blowjob lobby that if the BJ is a deal breaker for the man of the moment, then he is free to move on, with a wave goodbye and no hard feelings. I am not going to do anything I don’t like. Remember, I’m not denying any lover the gratification of a dick-lick—I don’t ask for an exclusive engagement. The universe has provided, and there is a world full of women who adore a mouthful of man. And even if they don’t, my sources tell me, the sisters in the sheets will not be saying no.
People are often surprised that I have limits: as if the fact that because I was a lesbian, means I will be the first to drool over the Victoria’s Secret catalog. As if the fact that because I’m uninhibited, means I want more than one naked body in my bed. As if the fact that because I’m a bachelor I’m predatory toward men and will even spread my legs through a lover’s social circle. Because I operate outside the territory of mainstream sexuality, the presumption is that I must be actively turned on by every possible deviation of human desire.
I do try things. Curiosity can prompt exploration, but that’s not to be confused with desire. I wanted to suck dick, because it’s fucking hot. I wanted sex outside of monogamy, because I was tempted by difference. But ultimately, I decided against blowjobs and I decided against cheating. In my forties, I had even decided against love, and as I moved through the successive chapters of my bachelor life, I came to cherish that decision.
TOMORROW: Chapter 36
Copyright Vicki Marie Stolsen, 2014, Forever Forty-Four Publications, Publicity Rare Bird Lit, Tyson Cornell, Tyson@rarebirdlit.com, Distribution by Ingram, Available online and in bookstores in paperback, eBook, and audio format.