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Wednesday, January 26, 2005
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ASK skippy, PART SIXTEEN
I just recieved an e-mail from the surprisingly hot sounding L. You know her, you love her, she insists that I only suck because I got laid three and a half months ago. This makes L niave as well as hot. I suck for several different reasons.
Anyhow, she's single-handedly decided to reinvigorate the venerated "Ask skippy" feature. God bless her cute little ass for that. These fucking things just write themselves and I needn't think very hard.
I am 33. Cute face, hair smells nice, firm ass. 5'2" 110 lbs. Good
toss
in the sack.
But I've got no boobs. Really... chest of 12 1/2 year old. I would
include
pictures, but I am sure you know what that looks like.
So.... what's the equation men use for this sort of thing?
I am hot to look at (did I mention my ass?) except for the boobs.
So what's my score? You'll be honest. I can hardly trust any
boyfriend to
be honest on any given day he wants a blow-job. So that would
be...everyday..
-- L
L,
By the sounds of you (and you REALLY should have included a picture of your face), you sound like someone whose drink I'd dose with rohypnol in a heartbeat. Or are you a GHB girl? It gets so hard to tell with you modern broads. Okay, maybe you're just a little on the short side, but that's just me. 14 foot tall geeks like me can choose to be picky on things like that.
As to your cans (which I might need picture of as well. If at all possible a full nude to give a completely honest evaluation), I'm not gonna lie to you, that can be a turn off to some guys. Very probably your boyfriend. Sure, that sounds like a shocking thing to say, and yes, it is partly motivated by my desire to hold you like an oven mitt. But there are two points to consider. Firstly, there's the comment at the end of your question about your boyfriend wanting blowjobs every day. While that isn't too highly irregular, I'm reminded of a comment you left on my blog recently.
If it is of any consolation to you, I will shortly be climbing into bed alone with my vibrator and a fresh set of batteries.
Sounds to me like someone isn't keeping his end up. Could it be the knockers? Hard to say without seeing them. On the other hand, he might just have another girlfriend.
Of course, I could be wrong and he pretends that you're a twelve year old boy, in which case you have a whole other set of problems. Not least of which include sitting. If your boyfriend demands that you take communion before intercourse, I just might be right.
And THAT'S why you broads come to me! Because I'm so understanding. I'm a 21st Century Alan Alda.
Of course, men are - generally speaking - very visually oriented with very specific tastes. This is where the phrases "breast man" and "ass man" come from. Guys tend to be pretty particular creatures. That is unless you give a good rimjob. In that case, you could have three legs and fourteen tits and we wouldn't care. Nine guys out of ten wouldn't notice that you have a head above your upper lip.
I can't stress enough the emotional power of a good rimjob.
On the other hand, most guys drunkenly shoot their friends on hunting trips and hide the fact that they masturbate. I'm not like other guys. Firstly, I do virtually everything drunkenly and I'm pretty sure you know my stand on masturbation. Yeah, I do it more than I should, but what are ya gonna do? I'm my type, I guess.
Other than being me, I don't suppose that I have too much of a type. Certainly not in regards to breast size. You'll notice that my recent declaration of love to Michelle the bus driver never once mentioned her breasts. Mostly, this is because of the giant bus driver coat she stubbornly insisted on wearing, but I'm sure they were beautiful anyway because the rest of her is.
My first girlfriend was even smaller breasted than you are, my last had milkbags bigger than my head. And, you should know, I have a John Merrick sized noggin. I've pretty much run the titty gamut. I've had monsterously large and I've had pimples. The funniest part is, there are two people out there who think I'm referring to them right now. I'm not.
I can pretty safely say that I don't have a type.
Actually, that might not be true. I learned something shocking today. There's a cosmetician at one of the stores that I work, and I learned her full name for the first time today. I desperately want to hold her like a bowling ball. And between her first and last name, there's one letter difference from someone I spent my college years wanting to hold like a bowling ball. They're both roughly the same height, weight and breast size. They have very similar noses. The cosmetician might even be the same age that college girl was way back when. One has very dark hair and the other....not so much.
So, if your name is Debbie Sh_re, you just might be my type! Go figure.
But I'm not as much concerned with what's on a woman's chest as I am what's between her ears. Oh, and between her legs. I've said this many times before, but if I'm anything, I'm a vagina man. If you have one of those, we'll get along just fine.
But back to L. L, if you live in Toronto, I can make you dispose of the vibrator forever. One of my exes did. But, in the interest of full disclosure, she did this just before moving in with another man, so it's not a flawless theory.
I hope I was of some help.
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UPDATE: 12:53 THURSDAY JANUARY 27, 2007
Okay, so I've been sent a picture of L. I should begin by saying that she has a BEAUTIFUL smile. Secondly - from what the picture showed - the chest is very cute. I could definately lick L until she started howling in Aramaic. Maybe it's just me.
And in case you're wondering, no, I won't be posting the photos L sent me. I hold such things in the strictist confidence.
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