"She needs you to smack her on the bottom..."
There's an undercurrent flowing steadily inside of me. It started a couple of days back and seems hell bent on driving me insane until it is appeased. I used to get this way whenever a certain someone would go about tenderizing his meat, as if my body was sensing what it was missing and thrashing about wildly at the injustice of it all.
I don't think that's what's happening here. See, a few days back I had an IUD put in. One of the jobbies with the hormones in them that stay in place for 5 years. So no pregnancy and pretty much the drying up of my periods. Gotta love that.
However, it seems to have flicked that switch in me and the lights are burning brightly. Actually, ever since a couple of months after my 30th birthday (yes, I know that I've previously claimed that I was going to be 27 forever, which is cute and all, but the reality is that I'm 32 - get over it, I have) I've experienced a surge in my sexual drive. There have been times where I've been damn close to sticking my hands down my pants in public to release some of the pressure.
Close, but not quite there yet.
Today was murder. My body seemed to understand that the 72 hour restriction was up (that's the amount of time until the IUD becomes effective) and was screaming at me that I needed to take care of it.
And no, this wasn't the type of ache where an orgasm will take care of the problem. This was the kind of ache that required something different entirely. (Why am I talking about this as if it's past tense? I'm practically sitting here in a puddle of my own juices right now...)
There are times when even the most sophisticated dildo won't do the job. When multiple orgasms from a quality vibrator just aren't going to cut it. This is one of those itches that needs to get scratched the old school way.
Yep, this is the time when a girl needs to get bottomed out.
Funnily enough, there appear to be people on this planet who haven't heard the term. One of my co-workers, when she asked me why I looked so distracted today, blinked blankly at me when I told her that I needed to get my bottom knocked out.
"You want someone to beat on you?" she asked.
I laughed and shook my head.
She called over to one of my other co-workers, a male. "Hey, Zara needs a smack on the rear. She needs you to smack her on the bottom."
He looked quizzically from her grinning face to my contorted one.
"You need me to smack your bottom? May I ask why?" he said with a smile.
"That's not what I told her, actually," I started to beg off, but was interrupted by my co-worker.
"You said you needed to get your bottom knocked out. So what exactly does that mean?" Her voice was raised slightly, as we were in a noisy bowling alley at the time.
My male co-worker, a middle aged divorced black man, started to laugh hysterically. "You don't know what that means?" he asked my befuddled co-worker.
She shook her head and started to look pissed at both of us. Finally, I leaned over and whispered in her ear.
"It's when you get fucked so deep and so hard, that you feel them hitting your 'bottom'," I explained. She blinked at me. "Your cervix. Your 'bottom.' Well, technically I guess you could call it your top, but what I mean is..."
She stopped me and started laughing. "THAT? I've done that! I just didn't know that's what you called it."
We then ended up in an impromptu discussion between us, our male co-worker and another female co-worker about the implications of "hitting the bottom," what the best positions were to do so, whether or not it was truly possible by anyone and when I was going to be able to get what I needed.
You know, all the good things to be talking about at work.
I'll be getting my bottom knocked out soon, something that thinking about just causes a further ache in an already stressed out AwesomeCootch. It will be a streak breaking time for me, one that has been a long time coming.
So... here's to knocking out bottoms and coming a long time. Or something to that effect.