Do You Dig Plato?

Times change. Talk of eating pussy goes up and down like the stock market. What got you laid in 1669 might get your stocked and lashed in 1769 or even 1869. Same thing gets you an instant blow job in 1969: gets you a cold stare in 1985. Not only the talk, but I guess the actual eating also goes up and down. Dogs, porpoises always do it; humans change fashion. Sometimes we do it but don't talk about it. Sometimes we do it and talk about it. The other two major possibilities may also make appearances: of varying duration. I've known women who love it and say so, other women who love it but say they don't, other women who keep mum but are clearly uncomfortable no matter whether they come like a tsunami or not.

But I know one thing: if you get your face in the muff, your dick will almost certainly follow. How would the guy (referred to above)
have done if he came into the bar, took his survey, went up to girl #1, said "I love to fuck ..." How many times would he get a purse across his chops? How many times would the girl say "OK, but you gotta suck on it first"? How many times would the girl say "I'm flying the rag: does that deter you? I can blow your whistle though." How many women have clipped how many guys with their bag, secretly weeping at the act they have to put on?

I'm sure that are some woman, can't say how many, what proportion, for whom it's not an act: who want only one penis in their entire lives and who are content: before, during, and after: even if the guy gets killed in battle the day after their first consummation.

I also know that the occasions on which I've been moaning about starting my lips on the pubis only to find the girl jockeying my head away and my dick there have far far outnumbered the times I've been trying to hump and they straddle my face instead. Many to zero.

Note: I Love to Fuck:

My friend Myron, on scholarship at Columbia College at age fifteen, would go up to adult women on Broadway, and sounding half like his lungs were full of pot and half like Andy Kaufman's crazy, pinched East European, Latka, decades before there was an Andy Kaufman or a Latka, say, "Hey, do you dig Plato? ..." Beat ... Beat "... You wanna fuck?"

The line would come regardless of their answer or indeed whether they answered. If he got tired of Plato he's say Dostoevsky.

I never say anybody sniff out a whore faster than this weird child, but with the above shtick Myron wasn't really fishing. Unlike the guy in the downstairs, maximizing his exposure to cunt, Myron was just goofing, putting the girl on.

If the woman was a whore, she'd shove him into a taxi faster than you'd believe.

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That reminds me of a joke. (Gotta add that my first hearing this coincides with first meeting a friend's cute girl friend, she being the joke teller:

What has only one eye, a pink tongue, and loves to fuck?

Joe said he didn't know.
Adorable Renée covered one eye with her hand, stuck out her pink tongue, and smiled.