17 minutes of pure happiness... or is it?

Since I was a little girl I always liked big stuff. I always wanted to sit on a big chair, always wanted people to call me big girl, to drive in a big car, to go to a big cities to eat a big hamburger and have big coke even if I couldn't finish it. There was always something mysterious about big people and they always had my admiration. I like to imagine that even Al Pacino is tall and big guy and when I found out that he is just a Shorty I was quite disappointed. Basketball players, volley players and of course, Water polo players were always my type of guys and when I was growing up they always has my heart on a plate. Approximately when I was 18 I went inside this mysterious world of habba-habba or what would my Indonesian friends said "yeah, all Bule like to fuck around right". In past 11 years I had all kind of discussions on the topic with friends and people I met on the way. Was never embarrassed to talk about sex and that topic was always infiltrating somehow in everyday's conversation. Was never embarrassed to go to pharmacy and buy condoms, to start talking to a guy that I liked, to mention some things from my private life just for compare or personal experience. I have always had more guys friends than girls and I always had some serious discussions with them about size, shape, techniques, poses and many other stuff. Sex is always favorite topic and people always talk about it no matter what, at least in my world, not in the world I'm living in right now. It is always about getting it to be better and better and in years you get to know your body and you know what feels good for you but of course when you meet someone, they usually don't know what you like and it takes some time to get to know each other. Lately, I had number of completely funny situations connected with sex partners and I always wanted to talk about it but never had a chance and I thought that someone will get offended but it is not really that I care right now.
Let's go back to the point where I saw the smallest thing in the world... well, it wasn't that long time ago since it is commonly known that Asians have 40% smaller penises that Europeans and I just moved to Asia. So, I did not want to date Asian guy, first thing, they are not really handsome, they are short, small, skinny and somewhere in my subconscious I knew that there is nothing for me beneath their small bellies. So I just enjoyed my life in Indonesia without having a guy in my life. I had few dates here and there, met few nice guys, dated a Brazilian guy which happened to be everything but Latino lover. Having sex with him was absolutely hilarious and even he had nice average piece, having sex with someone who is texting his friends during the intercourse was completely unacceptable and after that he couldn't realize why I never wanted to have sex with him again, there you are Brazilian sugar, sex with you sucked till the bottom end. Next time I saw penis I got such a huge headache that I had to go home and laugh my ass off. Yes, I'm being a little bit harsh but that was the smallest thing I saw and it would be waste of time taking my clothes off. That guy was really nice to me, took me out on few dates, we had fun and then we tried to have sex and he was quicker in the process of taking his clothes off so when I realized what I need to put up with I just told him that I don't feel so good and that I want to go home.... Finally this one Asian guy got me and we had sex couple of times and every time I asked myself WHY?!?! Last time we had sex, before we entered the room I look at my phone and I saw it was 10pm. When we left that room it was 10:17pm which gives us total value of 17 minutes. Oh yes, 17 minutes of hard sweating would be fabulous but... what happened during those 17 minutes. We entered the room, had a chat about photos on the wall, we started kissing, had quite of 3-4 min of kissing, we took our clothes off and before I even felt it was inside he was already shaking his whole body in sweet orgasm. I was looking at him and I couldn't believe... hello, I'm here too... after that we both take a quick shower and left the room at 10:17pm. Before that he told me that all of his girlfriends were completely satisfied with their sex life. After that I decided never to have sex with him again. He was pushy for a while, keep on calling me but at the end he gave up. I don't want to discuss the size, it would take such a small amount of time :D

He wasn't the first one who was bragging around about his sex life and how satisfied his girlfriends were. Usually those kind of guys are the worst one and they never make their girlfriends happy in bed. When you meet a guy who doesn't talk about his sex life, who has a mysterious smile and touch of an angel... that guy knows what is he doing and how to do it... 

And the thing about the size... well... yes, it does matter :)

Jedan od onih dana...

Juče sam primetila da u mojoj sobi nedostaje jedna slika moje mame. Jednostavno je nema. Pretražila sam celu sobu ali slike nije bilo. Čovek bi pomislio da u ovom haosu u kojem živim tako nešto je jedva primetno, da među svim mojim stvarima na tom stoliću koje skupljaju prašinu koju baš nemam nameru da obrišem, neko jedva može da primeti da jedna slika nedostaje. Verovatno da sam kući ili bilo gde u Srbiji i da su me zadesila neka srećnija vremena, nikad ne bi primetila tako nešto odmah. Verovatno bi prošli dani i nedelje dok bi tako nešto primetila. Nikad nisam obraćala pažnju na sitnice i uvek sam radije crtala po prašini nego da je obrišem sa polica ali eto sad, nestala slika, juče je bila tu i sad je nema. Pored kompa, para, kartica, nakita ko bi uzeo sliku moje mame? Na kraju sam rekla Jeleni da ne mogu da nađem sliku. Skočila je kao oparena i doletela u moju sobu i kad smo opet prevrnule sve stvari o sobi našle smo sliku koja je skliznula u donji deo stolića.
Mislila sam da ne stižem ni da mislim o njoj. Prljavi kapitalizam je lagano počeo da me izjeda a kad se otrgnem  njegovim kandžama, samo želim da izađem negde sa ljudima, da ćaskam da se smejem... ali opet, tu je negde ona uvek, u onom delu mozga koji uvek tera suze na moje oči. Pre neko veče sam izašla sa Milošem i Nerminom, čisto na kafu, ćaskanje i posle smo otišli kod njih u stan da gledamo film. Nermin je otišao u sobu da zove mamu, da proćaska sa njom. Miloš je rekao da skoro ne razgovara sa svojom mamom, kaže da nemaju o čemu da pričaju, samo neke klasične stvari. Šta bi ja dala za 5 minuta razgovora sa mojom mamom... makar o tako, klasičnim stvarima, samo da joj slušam glas, da se smejemo, da priča bilo šta, da mi objašnjava integrale preko telefona i da mi kaže "Ne brini Mikica, glup si ti, na mamu, naučićeš ti to. Prvih 5, 6 godina je najteže, posle sve ide lako". Kako sam se uvek smejala na tu rečenicu, kako mi je uvek bila smešna ta doza ironije u toj rečenici, kako je ona to izgovarala kao da je ... sve na svetu ravno... i da ne treba da brinem ni o čemu. Posle te njene rečenice uvek sam se osećala kao da je sve na svetu ravno, kao da ne treba ni o čemu da brinem, pošto je ona uvek bila tu i uvek sam verovala svemu što ona kaže. Danas, kad sama sebi izgovaram tu rečenicu, nasmejem se toj dozi ironije ali nije dalje više ravno... zato što nje nema...
Razgovarajte sa svojim majkama, makar o cveću i proleću i kafama sa komšinicama. Jednog dana, a nadam se da taj dan neće skoro doći nikome od vas koji čitate ovo, ta ćaskanja će zamenuti gorke suze i njen glas će polako iščeznuti iz vašeg sećanja... a koliko to zna da zaboli... beskrajno.