Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Marathon Man

Every woman dreams, whether admittedly or not, that they want a full-time lover. One who puts in serious work and is the absolute definition of laying it down. We love hearing the stories from girlfriends. Green with envy as we listen to them brag about how he goes all night, every night. Insert sigh.

Well, in the real world, all night is usually only an hour or two. Longer than the prerequisite thirty minutes of McLovin' he gives you. Yes, we all love a good quickie. A quick third quarter of nookie, but most women still complain about the lack of languorous nights full of oo's and ah's that are at the very least, a good Duracell.

Enter Marathon Man.

Breaks you off something serious, but not with the speed of lightning. Instead, he sexes you for five, six, seven hours. Like a titanium Energizer, he just keeps going and going and going. A lot can happen during that time, none of which is a water break longer than a few minutes. You are literally worn out. Put to sleep not because you lost count of your orgasms, but because of the sheer exhaustion! He put you to bed, all right.

Marathon Man isn't a myth.

Marathon Man isn't an urban legend.

Marathon Man is real.

I went to dinner with Maria last night and she started talking about a guy she started dating a few days before New Year's Eve. She said she felt lukewarm about him, could care less whichever way it went. Then they slept together. They've hung out every night since. Maria's exhausted and not because she works hard, but because her ass is up, getting it in, for 5 and 6 hours a night! I sat and listened to her tell me-in great detail-how he flips her, rips her, dips her, just all around gets her. And gets it in. I sat there, mouth agape, thinking, "Wowzers. That's the life." But is it really? It's great, yes, feels amazing, absolutely. But what about the good ole quickie? What about sleep? What about not walking right for a week while you're at work, trying to do your job?

Hmmm, good questions, indeed, but...what about any of it? Here's to the friggin good life. I'll sign up for it any night of the week. In fact if there was a Batman-esque "Marathon Man" signal to shine like a beacon above New York City? I'd be waving it like a flag, all. night. long.

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins

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