No Main Course, Just Outercourse Please

The melodies of how the earth came about have been sung for eons. a very rude shooting star; the size of more than a hundred football fields violently smashing into the earth and disintegrating the dinosaurs is science’s, Billie Jean. Everyone is still singing it. As for religion, they have “the rib of my rib” story featuring Adam and Eve.

Everything has its own creation story, even you. There’s a birth certificate stored away that attests to that fact. Since we’ve been able to come to that consensus then it’s safe to say something came before intercourse, right? Before you started getting it down, you obviously expelled your sexual tension one way—I know I did.

For some people, sex is personal. Raw and undiluted passion must be groomed, not picked up like a first language. It can’t be faked. For others, they can have multiple sex partners with zero feelings for them. Then there’s the hybrid. They’re half-of-each which makes them susceptible to each side at a moment’s notice.

That’s why I don’t harbor hard feelings for people who haven’t been deflowered. Although they are still in mint condition, that doesn’t mean they are sterile. They have raging hormones too but just because they have strong qualms towards fornication doesn’t mean they are strangers to rude visits from Konji— a friend we are all familiar with.

Sometimes, you might just be infatuated or in love with someone who houses those reservations and you decide to hitchhike with that emotion for as long as it lasts. One day you’re in her poorly-lit apartment. Your classes had ended earlier so you are waiting at the garden for her to be done with hers. Reveries of walking home together made 2-hours seem like a short time to wait. As you sit on her student’s bed perked up by two palettes at the edge of the room. You stare at the floor so it wouldn’t seem like you were watching her gently peel her clothes off her caramel skin— It’s the little things you know.

She’s still wearing her smile though. The one you put there walking her home. One thing leads to another, Abracadabra and you both are locked in a heated kiss like two crocodiles in synchronized death rolls. Her beautiful breasts look trapped in her brassiere so you unshackle them and she takes them off, teamwork at its finest.

Now she’s on top of you like a surfer, waiting to catch a wave in the ocean. Both pelves are tightly pressed against each other. Not even underwear could conceal both sexual parts passionately pulsing and yearning for each other. The air is hot and it reeks of sexual desire. You try to slide those panties to the side and dive in but she stops you. She does. You find out she is on a coitus sabbatical and you have to settle for an outercourse. The substitute for penetration.

In my case, it was a tier of non-penetrative sex called dry humping.

Others include; use of sex toys, kissing, massage, masturbating, et cetera. She was sexually active but she wasn’t welcoming a penis in and around her vagina which was a bummer for me but it was still pleasurable for both of us. This doesn’t mean outercourse predates intercourse. It just highlights a sexual activity that not many knew about or paid attention to.

Although for most guys, penetration is preferred, they still partake in this sexual activity. One thing men know is that they want women and if non-penetrative sex is what gets them closer to the goal, we’ll do it.

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