It’s Valentines Day! Let’s Hear Some Horror Stories!

Ah, February 14, the day when you get the opportunity to go buy flowers and candy for your wife and pair them with a card someone else wrote that expresses your undying devotion and love.

None of these things actually include the word “sex”, but it’s all done with one very understood, if not spoken, intention; you wanna get laid. So how did that work out for ya?

It probably looked something like this.

It probably looked something like this.

A joint survey by Men’s Health and Women’s Health found that 50% of men expected to have sex tonight. By contrast, only 43% of women expected to have sex because it’s Valentine’s Day. As my wife pointed out, it doesn’t really specify if they meant 43% were looking forward to it, or that 43% felt pressured to have sex.

Our Valentine’s Day plans consist of catching up on 13 episodes of NCIS. No chance for a babysitter left us with very little motivation to make this anything more than a typical Friday night. We agreed ahead of time to no gifts. So, I now have plenty of time to put together my “best of” post for Valentine’s Day Horror Stories.

Seriously, this is what we all want to read about, right? We’re all veteran’s at the marriage game. We roll our eyes at the exuberance of young love, telling their tales of over the top romantic gestures. We want the carnage!

So let the games begin. Here are a few of the choice morsels of Valentine woe that I uncovered today.

Via we have this gem;
“So here I am, a 20 year old socially awkward swede with barely any experience with girls. However, for some strange reason yesterday (13th) I grew the balls to ask a girl out for valentines. Not only did she say yes, she ended up going home with me and spent the night. This is where the story begins. … See, some of you redditors believe you are socially awkward, allow me to laugh. The first time I share my bed with a girl, I end up dreaming about going to the bathroom to pee. “Whats this warm sensation?” I ask myself. “My waist is so warm!” Suddenly wake up from girl shouting and yelling.
…Oh god, I had PEED MY FUCKING BED. IM TWENTY YEARS OLD AND I JUST WET MY BED. Please allow me to die.

Or, he could just send her a card....

Or, he could just send her a card….

There were several great entries at like this one;
“Last year for valentines day I had planned on proposing to my girlfriend at the time. She was a cheerleader at Kennesaw State. I had planned to propose to her at one of her cheerleading events in front of her friends & a stadium full of people. I had arranged to wear the mascot uniform & propose to her. Well I of course had to let 2 of the other cheerleaders know & the coach so to make sure it was ok & so they could help me set it up well one of the cheerleaders thought it would be ok to tell somebody else then they went & told another person & she overheard them talking about it. Therefore she knew & on February the 13th she broke up with me & I spent valentines day by myself.”

dumped ecard
And this guy:
“Last year ws the worst valentines day ever. i go to school in iowa, and my ex girlfriend went to school in illinois. we were only a 4 hour bus ride apart. i told her i wouldnt be ale to come home for a date on valentines day bc i had a test that day. she ment absolutly everything to me, so i decided to skip my test and go home to surprise her with a nice date. i got in contact with her roomate when i got to her school and called her roomate. her roomate was headed home that night, so she gave me her keys so i could go into their room and surprise my ex. that night i opened to door to what i though would be my ex girlfriend watching tv and doing homework, what i actualy saw was horrible. she was naked in bed with some guy who was not me! a nice glass vase with 2 dozen roses shattered on her floor while she tried to tell me she was sorry, and she didnt want me to find out about this.

i hate the valentines day and everything it stands for. it breaks my heart just thinking about how i had my heart broken and looked like the biggest idiot in the world just trying to be a good boyfriend.”

This one is a bit long, but worth the read;
” My buddy and his girlfriend decided to invite me to take her roommate out on a blind date for Valentine’s Day a few years ago. I jumped at the opportunity, as all my college buddies were going out and I didn’t want to be by myself. It was about an hour drive from where I lived, so I packed a bag just in case. I showed up to pick her up for dinner, she looked great, and I was excited for the date. We went to Flattop Grill for some stir fry dinner, which was decorated for the occasion and a nice place to enjoy good conversation and a hearty meal. Things were going great, and towards the end of the meal she invited me back to her place for a few drinks.
We got in the car on the way home and the conversation continued to go well for a few minutes and then got silent. She got a strange look on her face and began to fidget in her seat as the ride continued. About 10 minutes from her apartment things took a turn for the worse. A horrible smell filled my car, and I thought I may have hit a skunk or another animal that had been dead for weeks. The smell continued to get worse, to the point where I thought I was going to gag and I looked over at my date to see if she was showing signs of smelling the same thing. I asked her if she smelled that and she quickly said no as if she did really smell it but was afraid to say so. I told her I was going to pull over to see if I had hit something and she quickly told me not to because I could check at her apartment. We got to her place and she quickly ran inside before I could say anything. I checked under the car for any signs of rotting flesh, and as I was about to write the incident off to bad luck and move until I looked at the passenger seat. There in the middle of the seat was a large brown stain, and reality began to set it. My blind date had taken a full on dump in my car and not said anything to me. The car stunk for weeks and I had to have the seats cleaned 3 times before the smell finally faded. I still have the smell in my nose to this day.
Oh and I forgot to mention that the car stunk so bad I didn’t want to drive home, so I crashed on the couch at her apartment. It would have been fine but for the fact that my buddy and her roommate came home and I got to listen to them having sex all night. Combine nasty dirty sex sounds, with the sound of a snowplow going by every hour or so, and the stench of rotting butthole in your nose, and you officially have the worst Valentine’s Day ever.

I never talked to her again.”

I think he's being a bit harsh. We've all been there, am I right? Right?

I think he’s being a bit harsh. We’ve all been there, am I right? Right?

This one is a bit painful, but we don’t shy away from the hard topics;

” You wanted to hear the worst Valetine storys ever I have one for you! 6 years ago I got up early really early about 5 am went to the wally world and purchased a nice vase and a dozen roses, some candy, valetine cookies and a really nice card for my wife. I got home wrote her a wonderfull love you note in the card and placed it all on the kitchen table which was by the exit door to our house so she wouldnt miss it. I then rejoined her in bed. She got up for work looked at the stuff and left leaving me in bed without even coming back to say thank you, I love you or anything. I called her at work a couple time that day expecting her to say something but she never did. That day I prepared a wonderfull dinner and got some wine for us to have over candle light. When she got home we began to eat dinner and she had still said nothing. Halway through dinner she let me know she didnt love me anymore and didnt know if she was going to stay or not. We had been married 5 years! Well needless to say things were wierd for a couple of weeks I could sense she was leaving. I asked her to do me one and only one favor which was to let me know b/c I didnt want to come home from work one night and all of the stuff just be gone. She promised she would never do that to me. on feb 28th I came home from work at midnight and half my stuff was gone I had a note on the table. I woke up the next morning my cell phone stopped working, the house phone stopped working about 15 min later, and the cable went out within the next hour. The only thing in my name was the electric she couldnt shut that off. She had pre planned everything. we were divorced within 2 months and within 30 days of the divorce she was remarried. All true! It about killed me for close to 2 years. Now I am happily remarried to a different woman of course and never have I been happier! It all worked out in the end but it did almost kill me. Hows that for a valantine story?”

Most of these are men’s stories, because this is a site for men. But here is one from a women’s perspective just to demonstrate how completely unattractive a wimpy beta guy can be;
” Yeah, so… I was dating this guy some years back. We met on Thanksgiving, so by February had been dating a few months. He was cool to hang out with and I had a good time with him, but I was at the point of wondering if I wanted to even continue. Valentine’s Day rolls around, and he came to stay with me for the weekend. When I opened the door upon his arrival, he was damn near giddy. He told me to go into my bedroom, close the door and stay there until he said I could come out. I sat behind closed door listening to crinkling paper and things rustling around, the front door opening and closing couple of times, and then finally he came to get me.
When I walked out to the living room, it looked like a bottle giant bottle of Pepto exploded in my living room. There was pink and red stuff EVERYWHERE. Did I mention yet that I loathe the color pink? Anyway, candy, bears, hearts, flowers, trinkets, all of it… scattered across the front room of my place. He proceeds to go to mushy on me, telling me how I rescued him from the pit of his depression and brought him alive again, blah blah blah. After a sufficient amount of fussing over me, I said sheepishly… “I have something for you, too.” He lit up in a big grin, and I knew I was in trouble as a retrieved the paperback book titled “How to Be Southern” that I’d gotten for him. I handed it to him unwrapped and (I think) managed to say something graceful like, “Well if I’d known you were going to do all this…”
The Valentine’s Day ordeal was enough to guilt me into staying with him another couple of months, and in the end he broke up with me. I should’ve known better than to date a Yankee.
Disclaimer: No Yankees were harmed in the telling of this story.”

So, besides a few laughs, what is the point of this?

The motto of our marriage is this; “The secret to a great marriage is low expectations.”

It sounds a bit jaded, but this is serious. All disappointment is the result of unrealistic expectations. Let me state that another way; when your expectations are not in line with reality, you will be disappointed.
Keep in mind, it doesn’t matter if your expectations should have been considered realistic. For instance, if you expected the Broncos to win the Super Bowl, it would have been a perfectly reasonable expectation. But you would have been wrong and you would have been disappointed.
By contrast, a Seahawks fan had no reasonable expectation that they would win. So, had Denver won, a Seahhawks fan may not have been happy, but they would not be disappointed; they weren’t expecting to win.

Managing expectations is at the heart of maintaining healthy relationships. One of the pitfalls of Nice Guys is that they are filled with unspoken expectations. Not wanting to appear selfish, they stay silent; secretly hoping the other person will understand them enough to be able to meet their needs without having to voice them.

The secret to a successful Valentines Day is properly managed, low expectations. Be reasonable in what you are expecting out of your spouse. State your expectations up front and don’t be offended if your expectations don’t match up with reality. In a healthy relationship, this is just another day.

The Importance of Hobbies

We are firmly entrenched in winter here in the Midwest. That means lots of time indoors.

As much as I’ve enjoyed learning to hunt and as much as I enjoy learning more about being an outdoorsman, when the temperature drops below freezing I am done. I’ll walk to the garage to start the car in the morning, but beyond that I am staying in.

I’m sitting in my living room, looking at a desk and bookshelf over in the corner and I’m developing an itch. They have been sitting neglected for the better part of a year, but they are calling to me now. It’s been too long. We need to get re-acquainted.

Yep. This should keep me busy for the rest of winter.

Yep. This should keep me busy for the rest of winter.

Four years ago, I discovered the wonderful hobby of stamp collecting. There was a box in the back of a storage closet that had belonged to my wife’s grandfather. It had been described as “stamp stuff” and had sat untouched since she was in grade school.

One day, while watching Pawn Stars, I got a sudden urge to find out what was in that box. What I discovered blew me away.

Seven binders full of stamps from all over the world, meticulously cataloged and sorted by country. I had no idea what I was looking at. The collection came with a set of catalogs which helped me understand how the collection was put together. During the next two weeks, I spent every free minute with my nose in these books. I joined a online forum and very quickly realized there was more to learn than I could ever fit into my lifetime.

Okay, why the hell am I telling you this story?

One of the often overlooked aspects of being a kick ass awesome man is having a hobby.

Okay, before we go any further, no matter what Scarlett Johansson says, watching porn is not a hobby.

"Tell me that to my face. While you waste hours looking for pics of my tits"

“Tell me that to my face. While you waste hours looking for pics of my tits”

Let’s continue;
There are numerous benefits to engaging in a hobby;

First is the enjoyment factor. Life is stressful enough. Devoting time to something that brings you satisfaction provides a much needed distraction to the hustle and bustle of life.

Why does every sentence sound like I’m talking about porn?

Second is the process of learning. There is value in knowledge. It doesn’t always have to be useful, like learning how to build a campfire from steel wool, a flint rock, and a fart. There isn’t a single part of stamp collecting that translates over into the rest of my world and yet I find great joy in the process of learning even the most minute details of this hobby.

Third is the relational aspect. Granted, there aren’t many stamp collectors in my area, but the internet allows me to meet and converse with other collectors from all over the world. Developing my outdoor skills helps to build my friendship with my deer camp buddies.

If you are not a natural extrovert, getting involved in a hobby can be a great way to make friends and get yourself involved in an activity where you feel comfortable participating.

Fourth, it’s a great way to meet women.
Wait, I’m a stamp collector. Scratch that.

Fifth is the small possibility that your hobbies can be profitable. Depending on what sparks your interest, you can potentially develop your skills to the point that you become marketable. That probably shouldn’t be your primary motivation, but don’t overlook it.

I’ve enjoyed selling stamps as much as I enjoy collecting them. Learning the complicated details of what makes some valuable and others worthless is a fun and challenging process.

Sixth and most importantly, it gives you someplace to go when your wife starts to sound like Charlie Brown’s school teacher after you’ve been cooped up together all winter.

Just kidding baby. My wife knows the Charlie Brown teacher voice is my secret fetish.


But seriously, finding time for yourself is a necessary part of your relationship. Both husbands and wives need to maintain some autonomy in your life or you risk becoming enmeshed.

The Art of Manliness has an excellent write up on 45 manly hobbies to consider.

The New York Times has a nice nerdy article about hobbies and heightened states of concentration and flow states or something. Basically, it says hobbies make you smarter and helps you perform better at work.

An important part of being Big Dick is being good at stuff. If not to impress your wife, then for your own satisfaction. Start you new year off right by finding a hobby. Or perhaps you want to jump back in to an old one. I wish you the best of luck.

By the way ladies, I am still taking applications for being my stalker. I mean, if you are looking for a hobby and just can’t think of anything. No pressure.

All I Want For The New Year… Is A Stalker

My wife asked me if I had any goals for the new year. Yeah. I want a stalker.

It’s a bit of an odd resolution, I’ll admit, but this wasn’t some off the cuff remark. I promise you, I have spent several minutes thinking this through. I’m quite certain that I’ve considered every angle and I want to go through with this.

If I were a woman, I wouldn’t even consider it. But I think it is different for men. Guy stalkers are creepy. Always. Without exception.

Women stalkers at least have the potential to be sexy. I’m old enough and mature enough now that I think I could handle having some unknown woman idolize me from afar.

Yes, I know. I've been warned.

Yes, I know. I’ve been warned.

I’ve told you before that I didn’t exactly have women beating down my door when I was younger. I’ve never had to deal with telling a chick to get lost, I’m just not that into you, or “it’s not you it’s me”.

I’m sure it wouldn’t be fun to deal with every day, but just once I would like the chance to shake my head and say, “that bitch just won’t leave me alone.”

Obviously, I would never want to deal with this in real life. I’d have some explaining to do with my wife and I don’t particularly want some crazy chick knowing where I live.

She can save that for the next guy.

She can save that for the next guy.

Which makes the internet a wonderful place to pursue this odd goal. No one here actually knows me. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t make me the object of your obsessive affection, right?

Since I don’t want to wake up one morning with my bunny rabbit boiling on the stove, I think I need to take a few precautions. I need to make sure that I can attract a stalker on my terms. There will be rules, ladies, and if you want to participate you need to abide by them.

So here’s what I’m thinking.

1. No actual crazy chicks please.
Like I said, I’m new at this. I’m not experienced enough to accommodate an actual stalker. I would probably be overwhelmed and simply ignore you. That kind of defeats the purpose.

I’m looking for someone with just a hint of crazy; enough to be willing to break common internet etiquette, but not enough to make me want to call the police. Also, crazy chicks generally lack the sense of humor needed to make this play out.

2. No tit pics.
My wife is pretty protective of my chest. Please don’t ask me for them. Or at least, don’t get pissy if I tell you no.

3. My wife must approve.
I know, that sounds a bit strange doesn’t it? But remember, she reads my blog. Actually she proof reads my blog. She’ll tolerate a certain level of intrusion, but she’s got a pretty keen sense of women’s intuition. If she thinks you might be certified crazy stalker, I’ll have to give you the “it’s not me, it’s you” speech.

4. Understand that this will eventually end.
Remember, you’ll be stalking me under my terms. Of course, the whole point of stalking is that you don’t go away when I tell you to. Just don’t take it personally when I finally do tell you to go away.

Well, what am I supposed to do? You won't answer my calls, you change your number. I mean, I'm not gonna be ignored!

Well, what am I supposed to do? You won’t answer my calls, you change your number. I mean, I’m not gonna be ignored!

Maybe I should rethink this. Nah, let’s keep going.

5. This is about me, not you.
I know, I’m being a bit selfish here. But the point of stalking is to profess your undying love for me. I’m not really interested in hearing about your life. A small amount of personal story is fine as long as it builds towards explaining why you think I’m so wonderful.

Okay ladies, let the auditions begin. I’m not entirely sure how I go about choosing a specific stalker. If I ignore your comments, I don’t know if that is supposed to mean I’ve rejected you, or is it just a test to see how serious you are? This may be a work in progress.

And as much as I hate to admit it, I might not be very good at being stalked. I’m not good at being flirtatious, so all the good stalkers will probably decide I’m way too boring to stalk and I’ll be left with the bat shit crazies.

I suspect that the highlight of this endeavor will be watching my wife laugh at me. But I’m cool with that. This is the reaction I typically get from her for most of my great ideas.

Creating Your Own Genre Of Music Is Pretty Impressive

This is a bit of a departure from my typical post, so bear with me. Since the majority of my readers are women (thank you ladies, you are lovely) and Asian Pacific fetishists, this post may not be very interesting to most of you.

I want to introduce you to a band I’ve discovered; not necessarily because I think you’ll like their music, but because I think they deserve the recognition.

Real quick; name your two least favorite genres of music.

If you said rap and blue grass, congratulations; you’re white and you have all your teeth.

Now, let’s consider mixing these two genres together. One is bad, the other worse. What could go wrong?

For full disclosure, I’m not a fan of rap music. My appreciation for rap started and ended with Eazy-E’s “Still Talkin’ Shit” in the late 80′s. I couldn’t even bring myself to like Will Smith.

Will Smith..making rap music comfortable for white people.

Will Smith..making rap music comfortable for white people for decades.

And I’m not going to defend my dislike of rap music by trying to convince you that I have black friends, because I don’t. Seriously. No black friends. It’s a supply and demand issue. I live in the rural mid-west. There isn’t a black person within a 20 miles.

I grew up on 80′s country music so I am a bit predisposed to the blue grass, but not enough to spend money on it.

Okay, now that I’ve demonstrated that I am “Certified White”, you’ve got to meet this band. Introducing Gangstagrass.



These guys are amazing. They mix legitimate gangsta rap music with good ol’ fashion banjo, fiddle and steel guitar. Here is the bio from their “about” page:

Blending bluegrass and hip-hop seems like an unlikely recipe for success, but don’t tell that to Rench, the mastermind behind the highly successful rap’n’grass project Gangstagrass. When he was going to grade school, recess was a time of breakdancing on cardboard to RUN-DMC. But at home, the records on the stereo were Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash.

While the future is unwritten, it’s certain that Gangstagrass will go down in history as the pioneer of a sound that brought country and hip hop together and helped desegregate America’s music charts. “Right now, people treat rural and urban American music like they are matter and anti-matter,” Rench concludes. “I’m hoping a good dose of Gangstagrass will get people past the blue-state/red-state thing and make them comfortable with purple. I want to provide the soundtrack for a wave of cultural miscegenation that will let us all party together at last.”

The group produced the theme song for the tv show, Justified, (season 7 premieres Tuesday the 7th by the way) which is how I discovered them. The song would cue up and it just made my mouth water. What kind of sorcery is this? Rap music with a banjo in the background?

It sounded like this:


I had to hunt them down, which led me to their website where you can hear the songs on their latest album. It may not be your thing, but I challenge you to at least check it out.

So here’s to you Gangstagrass. There is nothing more Big Dick than creating your own genre of music. You guys are awesome.

Sometimes, Big Dick Decision Making Sucks

One of our big areas of change over the last year is the issue of how we as a couple make decisions. We have found that the universe just flows more naturally if I am the decision maker. Obviously, my wife has a tremendous amount of input into our decisions, but when it comes down to “where are we going to eat tonight?” I am expected to make the final decision.

The nice guy in me is already feeling the urge to explain that concept in depth lest you think I am an overbearing jerk. See, I used to believe the myth that women wanted a man who was willing to concede decision making in order to keep things “fair” or “equal”.

For example:
Nice Guy: “Where would like to eat tonight dear?”
Wife: “I don’t know. What sounds good to you?”
Nice Guy: “I’m up for anything. I want you to be happy so pick your favorite restaurant and we’ll go there.”

Women, how discouraging are these conversations? How many times have you thought, “Would you just make up your damn mind already?!?”

Having fallen into that routine in the past, I am really trying to make a conscious effort to be the decision maker in our family. But it isn’t as simple as just always picking what I want to do. I have a responsibility to make sure that my wife is satisfied with the decisions we make.

I have tried to refrain from asking the questions, “What would you like to do?” or “Where would you like to go?” As soon as they slip out of my mouth, I can feel the balance of nature going off kilter.

My alternative has been to use phrases such as, “Do you have a particular preference?” “Is there anything specific you want to do today?” If yes, then we can go that direction. Otherwise, I take responsibility for finding something that we will both enjoy.

Wouldn’t it be nice if leadership were only about the fun stuff?

We had been planning to attend a New Years Eve ball this year. We would be attending with two other couples we are friends with. It was a creative formal affair/ masquerade ball.

We spent weeks making arrangements. After lining up a babysitter for the night, we booked a room at an awesome bed & breakfast place called The Mansion.

Then, on Monday things started to unravel. My mother in law was supposed to watch the kids so we could go shopping. She called at the last minute to say she was sick and couldn’t make it. We don’t have a lot of babysitting options, so it looked like it was going to be bust. I decided to call our good friends from church. She was home and enthusiastically agreed to watch them for us.

We found the outfit we wanted for my wife and headed home. We ran out of time looking for mine so we planned to finish up on Tuesday before the event. It looked like things were going to be okay.

At 4:00 am on Tuesday morning, my wife gets a message from her sister that her mother is in the hospital. The sickness turned out to be extreme dizziness, vertigo, and vomiting. Still unsure of the extent of it, we continued planning for the event as we had to be out the door by 11:00 am.

We dropped the kids off at my wife’s grandmother’s house and as we walked out the door, she got a message from her sister saying they thought it might be a small stroke and would be testing later in the day to be sure.

She called her sister for more details and asked if she needed to be there. The response was, “probably not”.

So, with 1 hour left before we had to leave, a decision had to be made. The party was an hour south of us. The hospital was an hour north. If we chose to continue with our plans, we would be at least two hours away from her mother if things got worse.

In addition, my wife was concerned with how it would look if we went. Her sister had been with her mom since the night before and we were contemplating going out partying rather than come visit. What kind of daughter would do that?

But on the other hand, we were already a couple hundred dollars invested in this evening. It was one of our few chances to actually dress up and enjoy a night out for a real celebration with our friends. If we went to the hospital, they would all just gripe that we didn’t need to break our plans just to come sit in a hospital room when it was probably nothing.

Men, don’t ever force your wife to make a decision like this. These are the moments you were created for. God designed you to be the leader, to make the hard choices and give your wife confidence that she can trust in you.

I told her to get her things together to go to the hospital. We packed a bag in case we needed to stay overnight. I called and cancelled our room reservation and informed our friends we wouldn’t make it. It sucked, but it was the choice we had to make.

We left the hospital around 8:00 last night. Turns out it was just an inner ear infection that was affecting her equilibrium. She is getting better and checking out today. We went out to eat last night, ate too much, and spent New Years Eve watching Tosh.0 on tv until midnight. We were too full to do anything else.

Sitting at the restaurant, my wife thanked me for making the decision. It was the only mature choice to make, but it really did cost us a great deal emotionally.

Here is the key point to this whole story gentlemen; I didn’t take away her freedom to choose, I took away the burden to choose.

You see, leadership is a burden and your shoulders are bigger than hers. You were designed to carry that weight. If you are the leader in your home, good for you. You are doing it right and I assure you that your wife appreciates it, even if she doesn’t always like it.

If you aren’t, figure out what you need to be doing differently and do it. We can talk later about the potential power struggle that will ensue if your wife is used to being in charge, but this isn’t about her; it’s about you, men. If you are not the leader in your home, why the hell not? What the hell is wrong with you that you would willingly refuse to accept your responsibility as the head of your household?

I hope the new year finds you with a renewed sense of purpose in defining and fulfilling your role in your household. Someone needs to make the hard choices and that someone needs to be you.

[post script: My wife advised me that I should include that our New Years ended well. We slept in until 9:30 this morning, the she got up, put on the sexy red nighty she had bought for after the ball, and proceeded to f@#k me silly.]

What Every Woman Needs To Know About Blowjobs

[A quick update. As expected, we experienced a full 100% increase in daily viewership following the post on Asian Ass porn with significant numbers coming from eastern Europe. I didn't take them for animal lovers, but whatever.]

Your Mother Is A Dirty Girl wrote an entertaining post about a woman’s perspective on blow jobs. Every guy needs to be aware of how women view this touchy subject, so I suggest you read it. But, as I read through, it occurred to me that women may not necessarily understand exactly how we men feel about the subject.

So, I would like to present a primer on what every woman needs to know about blow jobs. Now before I begin, let’s cover the standard disclaimers. Not every woman is the same and not all men are the same. Your mileage may vary, yada yada.

The Big Dick Chronicles is written primarily for recovering Nice Guys so we will assume that mind set for the sake of this discussion. If you’re with a guy who routinely just walks up and sticks his dick in your mouth, this information might no apply to you. Otherwise, yes, this is what goes through your man’s head.

Okay, let’s begin.

1. We HATE asking for blowjobs.

There are a couple of reasons for this; one, it makes us feel like a dick. Our current generation of men have been trained not to be selfish in bed. Asking for something that brings no physical stimulation to our partner is the epitome of jerkish, selfish behavior.

Two, as Dirty Girl pointed out, you already know we want it.

We need some context for this statement. As with so many other things, men and women really do think differently on this issue. We also suffer from the fallacy of assuming you think the way we do and vice versa.

For example, with rare exceptions, men love to eat pussy. We’d have it for breakfast lunch and supper if we could. The only thing standing between us and a new weight loss program called The Pussy Diet…is you.

Consider this scenario; you are lounging comfortably in bed reading a book. Your man climbs up and starts to remove your pants. How do you react? With a 98% degree of certainty, I predict you would stop him. Why? Because you don’t typically allow unrequested oral. And we men know this.

But reverse the scenario. As a woman, you would be shocked and appalled if your man turned you down because the automatic assumption is that he wants it any time he can get it.

Yeah, just doesn't make sense does it?

Yeah, just doesn’t make sense does it?

So here is what is going through our heads. If you wanted oral at any time, we would gladly provide it. We are always in the mood to receive unrequested oral. You know we want oral any time so….where are the blow jobs?

If we are reduced to asking for blow jobs, there is a simple reason; we aren’t getting them.

Ladies, be warned;  if your man is asking for blowjobs this is a sure sign that he is sexually unfulfilled. Now, before your head explodes, let me say that this is his issue to deal with and his resonsibility. We’ll get to that momentarily.

Again, there are exceptions. If it is done in a light-hearted way as part of a mutually satisfying sex life, this isn’t a problem. (eg “For lunch, I would like a sandwich and a blow job”). But, if your man is sincerely asking for blow jobs, you have to understand; this is our last resort. It’s akin to having to stop and ask for directions. It is a huge blow to our ego and we hate ourselves for it.

So men, what can you do about it?
I’m going to repeat a common theme that you will find throughout this blog; if she isn’t willingly sucking your dick, she just isn’t that into you.

There are dozens of ways you can kill attraction with your wife. Hygiene, general demeanor and disposition, weight issues, etc. If you aren’t getting what you want in bed, figure out what you are doing wrong and fix it. Give your wife a reason to want that thing in her mouth. But understand this won’t happen overnight. Expect that you have a lot of work to do. Your wife will respond to you when she is attracted to you.

2. We probably like blow jobs better than sex.
This one seems to be difficult for women to comprehend. We were talking with another couple and the topic came up. The wife said she just didn’t get her husband’s fascination with it.

My explanation went like this; women seem to view oral sex (both ways) as an appetizer. It’s typically part of the foreplay ritual in preparation for sex. Men view oral sex more as dessert. Sex is the main course, of course, and ultimately satisfying like any good meal. But a blow job can be a means to an end and due to the relative rarity of taking a blow job to completion, it is a sweet treat like a really good dessert.

At times, my wife has found it almost insulting to hear that I would rather have a blow job than have sex with her. I’ve finally convinced her that it has nothing to do with her or her body. The physical sensation is just completely different. The mental arousal is completely different. I wouldn’t choose a blow job over sex every time, or even most of the time, but a really good blow job is just damn hard to beat.

Which leads us to number three..

3. Sucking our dick makes you look like a slut…and we love you for it.
I’ll tread lightly here because that statement can have a wide range of connotations depending on your experiences and background. I’m using it in a strictly positive and affirming way.

Sex is awesome and it can be as adventurous or as ordinary as you want to make it. But you’ve got to remember, our grandmothers had sex. We can’t even contemplate the idea that our grandmothers gave head. It is an act that exists on a completely different plane than sex.Your willingness to perform this act demonstrates a naughty side that we men are powerless to resist.

I have it on good authority (my wife) that sometimes women enjoy feeling a little slutty in bed. Of course this requires a trusting, secure relationship. She has to know that our bedroom is a safe place to let that part of her come out and play.

But once she knows it’s safe, look out. There is nothing like watching her give a porn star quality blow job. It makes me feel like the most powerful man on earth to watch her perform that way for me. My appreciation, respect, and admiration for her goes up every time.

So, what are some things we men can do to improve the blowjob experience? This won’t cover every aspect, but if you can achieve these few things, your experience will be much more satisfying.

1. Stop asking.
You are a grown ass man. You ask your momma to make you sandwich. You ask for favors. A blow job isn’t a favor. It’s a healthy part of a mutually satisfying sex life. Asking for something is a demonstration of weakness not leadership, and women just aren’t attracted to weakness.

State your expectations and your intentions clearly. Your wife is free to either agree or disagree. If she is attracted to you, she’ll comply. If she isn’t, it just means you have some work to do.

2. Increase your attractiveness and your sexual dominance.
Again, all of this is written from the context of an otherwise healthy and productive relationship. This isn’t helpful advice for relationships with violence or abuse issues.

Men, attraction has to come first. Your wife will respond to you if she is attracted to you. But attraction isn’t enough. The key word here is “respond”. You’ve got to initiate the process.

It has been a difficult journey for me to accept that I’m allowed (and often expected) to take what I want from my wife. She enjoys being dominated by me. In that strange way that I’ll never fully comprehend, my strength makes her feel safe.

But I can’t demonstrate that strength by asking permission. It has to be decisive and even selfish at times. If I’m strong and decisive, she knows she can trust me. If she can trust me she can submit to me. And men, you have to trust me on this, there is nothing more seductive than a woman who will willingly obey your command to suck your dick.

But ladies, you have to understand that last sentence as well. Submission is seductive. She can ask me for damn near anything she wants in that moment. If his dick is in your mouth, he is putty in your hands. Don’t underestimate the power that you yield in this setting.

3. Reward good behavior.
Oh boy, this already sounds extremely condescending. Bear with me.
It isn’t easy sucking your dick. In fact, I hear that it’s actually a bit of a chore.

At The Big Dick Chronicles, we tryo to be sensitive to women's issues.

At The Big Dick Chronicles, we try to be sensitive to women’s issues.

When she does it, she is doing it to please you. (Unless she’s doing it to placate you, then you’ve got a problem) So be pleased. Don’t take it for granted. She has blessed you with a tasty dessert, make sure she knows that you appreciate it. Give her a reason to want to do it again. Compliment her skills. Make sure she knows that you can’t resist her prowess.

My wife understands this well. She will randomly open her mouth and slowly wipe the corner of her lip with her thumb (That universal “you missed a drop” symbol).

Yep, that's the one.

Yep, that’s the one.

It sends a shiver down my leg every time.

There you have it ladies and gentleman. Obviously there is much more to say on the subject, but if you and your spouse have a firm understanding of these basic concepts you will easily resolve 90% of your blow job related issues. Now go be awesome.

I Guess It Is Time To Become A Porn Site

I understand that the point of advertising is to convince you audience that you have something that they need. My job is to convince my readers that there is something relevant here that they would be worse off for not seeing, or reading. You need me to improve your life, or so I tell myself.

But, there comes a point where you must accept the fact that you have to yield to your readers. The majority of my daily viewership is the Asian Pacific fetish crowd. They show up in droves daily, no doubt leaving disenchanted upon realizing that I’m actually trying to offer advice that will help them stop searching for porn.

So, dear readers, you have spoken and I have heard your cries.

Without further ado, I present for your viewing pleasure, butt naked wild Asian ass.

Wild Asian ass

Wild Asian ass

If you’re in to the MMF thing…

Asian ass threesome

Asian ass threesome

For you real hardcore gangbangers…asian ass group

If you are still with me so far, I’m hoping I lose you on this next one…asian ass pedo

Alright, so we’ve covered the Asian ass porn about as fully as we’re going to. I’m expecting this to increase my viewership at least 100%. I’ll let you know you it goes.