“I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious.” — Albert Einstein
As a man, I think one thing that separates me from the majority of men, at least in the bedroom, is that I am “passionately curious”.
A woman’s anatomy fascinates me. Absolutely invigorates and gives strength to the inquisitive parts of my mind. I read, about female orgasms, all the time. I read so much I can spot a bullshit article from the title alone now. I read female responses in the forums, below the article.
I read, I read, and I read.
Then I act.
I test my formula. Then I retest it.
I apply the Scientific Method, to your pussy.
- Step 1 — I identify my Question, which is always, “How can I make you cum even harder?”
- Step 2 — I do my Research. I learn your body.
- Step 3 — I develop my Hypothesis, which lately includes how many orgasm trigger points can I simultaneously drive senseless.
- Step 4 — I perform my Experiment, on your little delicate body. Oh, this is easily my favorite step, as I dive my face in between your legs with fingers testing the limitations of your G and cervix, bringing your ass out to play when you least expect it.
- Step 5 — My Observations come in the form of your moans, screams, and convulsing body. You writhe in blissful agony while falling off the bed like Newton’s Law of Gravity just shifted direction and somehow you rolled from the California King onto the hardwoods with no prompting, all while clutching your pussy.
- Step 6 — My Conclusion is always the same though. I think I need to go back and test again. Yeah, I am pretty sure I do.
You see, there is a sense of pride I develop in the knowledge I gain, that when I am with you, I own you.
For a brief history in time, I am Einstein in a room full of run-of-the-mill patent clerks. This shit is just too easy for me. I get to wreak havoc on your lady parts with never a question if it is right or wrong, but an observational mind, with a mental notebook to go back and revise my approach. Each image above, selected specifically for a reason, because each action, is just one of my theory components. One of my elements on the periodic table of your body.
Spreading your lips, to see the beautiful canvas that is you. Your blank slate. Your tabula rasa. Your pussy, completely unaware of what is coming next and the tidal wave of endorphins that is soon to encompass you, because you haven’t had a man like me, little lady, so attentive and ambitious in my sin for you.
I rock a big brain but a much bigger motor, so I suggest you best sit back and just thank God I am between your legs at this very moment because all my tested theorems are being revisited on your clitoris, G spot, O spot, and A spot.
I want clitoral. I want internal, and every kind, from your ass to the alphabet soup of your pussy’s zones.
I want good timing. I want multiple. I want simultaneous.
I want simultaneous multiple.
I want your mind.
I want your eyes, witnessing my passion as I rip one orgasm after another out of you like the Hydrogen bomb just exploded in your nerve endings.
For a moment, I am Jonas Salk discovering your body, one time after another. I am Charles Darwin on the Galapagos, realizing you. Wegener explaining mother earth and all your contours.
Copernicus, telling you that you are my Sun, and my world revolves around you.
I am a blessed man for being passionately curious. I carry this passion with me in all I am, and I will settle for nothing less.
But just in case I falter. Just in case I waver and fail. I shall revise my methodology, with your lady parts.
In fact, I am going to revise my methodology anyways, because Step 4 is just too damn fun to not do again.
So tickety tock, Kitty Cat.
Daddy is getting his lab coat on.