Secrets

ABOUT YOUR FINGERS

Let’s just be honest girls and tell these honies that the pot of gold they’re digging for, well, they ain’t going to find it. You’ve known him for a while (or not) and you’ve been looking forward to whatever’s happening since you first laid eyes on his gorgeous face/ washboard abs/ amazing butt/ magnificent potbelly/ thick flowy mustache…whatever it is that turned you on girl! So you’re here with him and the slow/ rushed kissing has led you to his bed/ the club loo/ his mother’s bedroom… You’re turned on, he’s rock hard, you’re ready. His fingers inch down, he’s got to ‘pima mafuta’, you don’t mind at all! Your nubine is aching, begging for a little attention. His fingers get down there, part you open, your sigh of relief is audible… His finger gets in, you’re wetter than rain. ‘Please touch it,’ you silently beg. He does doesn’t. Instead he goes straight to the honey pot and starts digging! Boys, boys, boys, a couple of question: What the hell are you digging for? Have you ever found it? Do I sense some nodding and arrogant smirks? No, you’ve never found it! All that moaning? She’s tired, getting dry and you’re probably hurting her with all that gyno-reminiscent poking around in her delicates. If you’ve got less than 20 years fiddling around les femmes’ nethers tafadhali keep your (mostly unsanitary) fingers out of the little hole, except for maybe a little feel to guage her readiness for what you’re both there for, his knobbliness the mighty…well whatever you call him.