Arrogant Penis is more than your typical Proud Penis or the sad Selfish Penis.
As a woman and as a sex pro, I take pride in being able to make men come. There's no challenge to large for me. Give me your tired, your chafed, your 'unlikely to come orally' or what-have-you and I'll make the most of it. (Like the military I'll have it Be All It Can Be and Make It Do By 5 a.m. More Than Most Do All Day.) Give me my lover, and I delight in satisfying him ~ often and well. But I am different than Arrogant Penis, as you shall see.
Given that men can only come once and then it's done (at least requiring a break), there's a certain amount of skill involved in pleasing yet keeping a man on the playing field ~ you don't want him to be the first to score because he'll likely be the only one to score then snore. Sure, you can send him to the bench and call him back out again later, but that isn't always helping you finish the game the way you want.
Not that every match is a endurance event. Gracie loves the spontaneous 'get a round in before dinner' quickie ~ and those sprint events where the damn-near violent dead-heat explosion is amazing. But as a woman, I want to be sure that if we don't finish together he's not on the finish line first, leaving me, in these athletic sporting scenarios, to dig deep and bring myself in as a solo runner. Nope, I want to be first.
Any considerate (good) male lover also wants this for his female lover. CR/LF, owner of Arrogant Penis, is a good lover, but considerate? Well, not exactly...
Women, myself included, can experience not only waves of orgasms but multiples (and multiple waves, and waves of multiples). Where a good, considerate lover would give me my orgasm (or knowing I am capable of multiples, give me 2), then proceed to his own. If I have additional orgasms along the way, kudos to us all. But Arrogant Penis isn't satisfied with that. He delights in what I can only describe as killing me and bringing me back from death.
When I start to relax, adrift in the warm comfy seas of a powerful orgasm, my body slackening (and lord knows how my face looks), aware of nothing but how fabulous this is and ready to ride the waves into slumber, he doesn't stop. He doesn't continue for his own pleasure and release either.
Instead, he tweaks my nipples, changes his thrusts, kisses me, sucks my nipples, rubs my clit ~ like a ham radio guy skilled at bringing in Moscow radio in on his equipment in Iowa, he twiddles until he gets it.
"It" in this case being bringing me back to life, back to an actively aware participant in sex (or as much as I can muster at the time) and brings me to another orgasm. No matter how exhausted & drained I am, he brings me back.
He doesn't just do this once. Or even twice. To be honest, I can't count at these times. All I know is that I am done, I've won the game, scored the big championship point, I'm ready to end the game and have a drink with the fellas ~ whatever euphemism you'd like. I'm ready to bask in the cozy afterglow if not sleep. But he's still killing me and bringing me back. Even when I ask (beg) him to stop.
Yes, Gracie herself says (screams, pants, whatever), "Stop. I think you're killing me." (Just this very afternoon yet.)
How terribly cliche.
But he doesn't stop. My protests are meaningless. They are weak in voice and in meaning; for in truth I do not die. Nor am I really done for there's that next orgasm ~ and is that another on the horizon? Arrogant Penis thinks I doth protest too much, I suppose, so he considers not my protests and continues his mission.
This may all sound like a fantasy; some sort of sex blog pandering or other attempt to increase foolish sex fantasies. Or maybe you think I publicly humiliated CR/LF and this is make-up time ~ or I lost a bet or something. But I swear this is true.
Unlike Selfish Penis who only worries about himself, or Proud Penis (which is how I describe most every working penis) who feels he is more than 'good' at his accomplishments, Arrogant Penis has an attitude and an agenda. He takes what he wants, and what he appears to want are my orgasms. Every last one of 'em. It's like he feeds off of them.
Early on, I found sex with him rather amazing. While I've long enjoyed sex, he was the first to 'discover' or uncover my abilities to have multiple orgasms. He's even made me squirt. Twice. (Though I'm not sure how that happened or what to say about that yet.) At first his sexual techniques were a marvel. To be sure our sex was enhanced by our love & an increased intimacy (which admittedly was an issue for me), but I was surprised & more than a bit mystified that he could know more about my body than I. Then the newness of our relationship wore off.
I became a bit what's the word... irritated? resentful? that he could still do such things, could continue to inspire new heights if you will. (The squirting was after 2 years of living together for God's sake! And I still can't make myself do it...) Don't get me wrong, I love the great sex and would never turn it down. But shouldn't we be retiring to a more consistant level of sexual performance rather than having the mind-blowing sex of those falling in love? Yes, our intimacy level should increase, but how can he still take the heat up a notch? And how could he do more for me than I can for myself?
Early on I may have been blown away by the his knowledge of my body but I've now come to accept that while no gauntlet's been thrown, Arrogant Penis is on a mission.
A mission for complete mastery of my body. No matter how 'done' I think I am, be it happily content with my orgasm or physically spent with exhaustion, he knows better. And he proves it. The nerve! The... arrogance!
By now, if you've accepted this as fact and not pandering or another form of BS, you probably think I am bragging. To be sure there'll be no crying for Gracie *wink* But still, it's rather embarrassing that some new-comer to my body can do more with it than I. I'm Gracie Passette after all!
It is most difficult for proud Gracie to sprawl humbled before Arrogant Penis.
But I do.