We All Berated Dick Pics Before Isolation
Have we taken a different stance now?
I have very few ground rules in life and dick pics are one of them — just don’t do it. I hold on to that protocol steadfastly.
Last night, a dick I want was literally staring me in the face, but now it’s not mine to have. Before isolation, I would have told him to put that dick away because it’s no good to me on a screen, but now no holds are barred.
I don’t know about you but I want some dick. I want it more now than ever and it’s only because I can’t get it.
The relationship with my booty call began nearly a year ago. We met on Tinder (go figure), and he’s actually a really nice guy. Great person and phenomenal in bed, so it doesn’t hurt to spend time with him when we get the chance.
Within a few weeks after our first hook up, I was out for a walk in the sunshine when he sent me a text. I opened it up and there he stood, buck naked in front of a mirror taking a snapshot of himself.
My first impression was, “Wow, that’s the type of guy I swipe hard left for.” In case you’re not privy to a left swipe, it’s a rejection.
I hate body showoff pictures. I’d rather know about his personality and then learn about his body. I also hate the act of sending naked photos back and forth. A nude pic of a guy does not turn me on for a couple of reasons.
- Because he’s there and I’m here. What am I supposed to do with a dick pic, besides deleting it in case I die and my mother has to go through my phone.
- It just seems like a desperate act to remind me that he has a penis. We know you do, all men do.
In his case, I had already experienced his dick in the flesh so I didn’t need to look at it. Viewing a still shot of a dick is like viewing a painting — it’s not doing anything so what is it for? I can’t masturbate to a painting or a still shot, that’s what porn is for.
I let him know gently that although it was a very attractive photo of him, I would not be participating in sending nudes back and forth. I told him I don’t trust technology nor did I trust him at that fresh stage in our relationship.
I think I made him feel bad because he gushed with apologies. My intent was not to shame him, it was to let him know that swapping naked photos wasn’t my gig.
To me, it’s like swapping face selfies. I already know what he looks like so a carefully posed “Blue Steel” shot won’t inspire me to send one back. Just as a carefully posed dick pic will not inspire me to get horny.
Now that we’re stuck in isolation all ground rules have flown out the window. I want dick and I don’t know when I can get it.
Technically, I could have it by next Tuesday because that will have been 14 days since he arrived back from international travel. Believe me, we have been counting the days but do I trust that he’s been in total isolation like I have?
Last night, we had a full-blown sexting session to alleviate some stress and fantasies festering on both sides. Normally we don’t talk much about sex, nor do we talk much at all. We just arrange future hookups.
But now, everything has changed and I want dick pics, I want dick videos, as much as I want all the chatting about future sex deeds. We’ve spent hours on Whatsapp lately.
During our sext-capades last night, he asked if anything has changed since our last encounter, meaning are there any new things on or off the table for me lately.
He asked if he could try one thing, then another, then another. I was like, “Dude, by the time isolation is over you can tie me up, blindfold me and use a vibrating Popsicle if that’s what you want.”
And that’s the truth. The poor guy will be lucky if he makes it through my front door unscathed.
Yes, I’ve been relying on porn a lot in the few weeks he’s been out of reach but porn is never the same as a real live body. I crave skin to skin connection.
Things change when you’re isolated and can’t have what you want. With this guy, I’ve always had a rule about no sleepovers, because if he stays we don’t actually go to sleep until 4 or 5 am.
I don’t have the time nor the inclination to feel like shit for a whole day after a booty call. I want what I want and then I like to get a decent sleep afterward.
But now everything has changed. I don’t have a job to get to the next day, I don’t have anything on my schedule except more isolation and writing a few stories.
During our chat last night he advised that next time he comes over he’ll bring a case of Vodka Nudes for us. Then he asked if he might be able to crash in the event that we drink too much.
I told him to pack a toothbrush and his favorite sweatpants because we can hide out and slum it for days if he wants. It’s not like he’s bad company.
Who needs sleep anymore? There will be plenty of time for sleep when I’m dead. Right now I have no ground rules except that maybe he does the cooking once in a while, during our hideout period.
I certainly won’t be rejecting any dick pics anytime soon.
