A Touch of the Forbidden in Love: On the Importance of Foreplay

"Your size hurts me! We won’t be able to tell a soul about this—they'd die laughing!"

"No. They’d die of envy."

If a guy is on the smaller side and skips the foreplay, the woman simply won’t feel a thing. But if he’s packing heavy artillery and dives in unannounced, it’s a recipe for genuine agony. Foreplay is absolutely crucial. And in exceptionally gargantuan cases, an extra ritual is required:

"That’s why we need to 'introduce' ourselves first," the girl said, rolling over into the missionary position. "With something this massive, you have to start like this. To adjust. Consider it a warm-up."

...Once everything inside has stretched to a comfortable capacity, she can get on all fours and let him really rev up... Let him build momentum. Let him start moving hard, fast, and bone-deep.

They finished and drifted into a daydream:

"If we had a place to go, I’d kidnap you for days on end every single week. Though I'd probably have to kick you out eventually, just to let my chafed pride and joy recover."

That day, a refrigerator they’d ordered was delivered. The mover—whether eager for the cash or just a genuinely decent guy—hauled the beast up the stairs without an elevator. What a veritable mountain of a man! With shoulders a mile wide, the chilling domestic monolith practically vanished in his grip. He shot them a Shrek-like grin and fluttered back down the stairwell.

Watching him leave, the girl whispered to her starkly miniature beau:

"Terrifying guy. I feel like he could’ve ravaged us both."

"Wouldn’t work on me! By sheer force of will, I’d snap his dick clean off with my asshole!"

They talked about various sexual games. And the people they’d played them with:

"Are you jealous of me? Tell me the truth! You promised!"

"Alright, fine, a little..."

And then they did some experimenting of their own, simulating a rough, coercive encounter:

"I was doing that for you, you said you wanted it rough."

"I had no idea it would feel this repulsive."

She left to run some errands and returned with a gift:

"It's a spy's hat and a pistol!"

He smiled: she understood his tastes, and him, perfectly. And he understood her:

"While you were out, I swept your floor."

"You know, that flusters me more than the most brazen intimate caress."

She showed him a photo that captured the real her, free of artificial grimaces or posing:

"I leaned in to get a closer look at that video, and someone caught me on camera off-guard. It’s nice..."

"Look like that—but only at me!"

They were holding each other again:

"I love it when you boss me around."

"Then giddy up!"

"But I'm exhausted..."

"Giddy up, and I’ll shower you with pity."

It was a euphoric day. If you are a man, and after your visit, a disheveled woman wears a facial expression like that... you are a magnificent lover.

Afterword

He is a well-adjusted human being. To me, that’s wildly bizarre. Every single person I know rides an erratic rollercoaster of madness, but this guy has absolutely zero compulsion to validate his ego. And that is intoxicatingly attractive. EVERYONE, literally EVERYONE I knew back then, was desperate to prove their worth: to convince someone of something, to assert their dominance, to appear stronger, smarter, or richer.

But he is entirely removed from that noise. He does what he loves, he lives... he loves. And on top of that, with him, I got to hear: "You were screaming so loud, I actually thought about easing up on the pace..."

Nelli Verkhovska PhD in Psychology For more on alternative relationships, check out my YouTube channel