Apparently a talent for oral sex does the ego good. Them’s the rules, because approximately 86.56% of the men I’ve shagged have bragged about their pussy-eating prowess. Only two of my exes really were pussy whisperers, and neither bragged about their skill. I can tell you why: Because you’d do a better job predicting female sexual response via the psychic ether than through something as pathetically neurotic as the clitoris.
Men who claim to be pussy whisperers usually have one magic formula, and there is no universal way to make a clit happy. Only men who know that they can’t get it instantly right every time can get it right more often than average.
Clitorises are assholes. They hide and shift about as though they were easy to find in the first place. They’re not sensitive enough until they’re too sensitive, and then they cum, and then their sensitivity changes again. Some of them cum 12 times in a row. Some of them prefer a second’s break between orgasms. Some of them are fickle enough to want different things on different days. Seriously, you can’t make this shit up. Clitorises are so erratic that even their owners sometimes get confused by them—or is that just me?
Just me, then. M’kay.
Vaginas are the rational thinkers of the female anatomy. They don’t hide underneath completely unnecessary folds of skin, and they stay in the same place all their lives. Did you hear that, clitoris? Maybe you should try being that predictable, hmm?
Sometimes I can’t even find my own clitoris. Okay, that’s an understatement. I never find it on the first try. Then when I do, it fucks off to get some ice cream because, clitorises are fickle bitches who really shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near something as important as the female orgasm.
You know how I can tell that a man prolly isn’t much good at pussy eating? When he says he’s amazing at it. That’s as good an admission as any that he thinks clitorises have lovely, predictable personalities. And they don’t. They have their heads up their asses.