Your dick can wait, I’m working (a poem)

Image by the brilliant Stuart F Taylor

I love dick, it’s brilliant. Unfortunately, I don’t love it all the time on a 24/7 basis. As a sex blogger, my work is a constant background throb throughout my life: even when I’m not feeling horny, my Tweetdeck spits out pre-scheduled posts from ‘this time last year’ in which I wax lyrical about my love of blow jobs. About a year ago, I got frustrated with the fact that this painted a picture of me as constantly horny for cock, which men (understandably) responded to in the moment, without realising that at that specific point I was actually in the middle of extremely stressful work and probably not up for sexting at that moment in time. All this to say, I wrote a silly poem called ‘your dick can wait, I’m working.’ Don’t take it too seriously, especially if you and I are fucking.

Your dick can wait, I’m working

I know that what you see right here

Is a girl so wet she’s hurting

But often when you message me

I’m really busy working.

The person on the blog, you see

Is just one tiny part of me

She may seem horny and carefree

But often she is working.

You see me lusting here on main

And think ‘time for my dick again!’

But your DM slide is still a pain

Cos here: I’m busy working.

It’s lovely that you want to fuck

Each day I’m grateful for my luck

But here’s where we will come unstuck:

You nag me when I’m working.

I’m not a fan of constant sexts

Your ‘DTF?’s and ‘are you wet?’s

Won’t make me horny, only vexed:

They feel too much like working.

 

So what’s the secret, lovely men?

To scoring with me now and then?

To making yourself GOTN’s friend,

And getting in her cunt again?

Just text and ask her: where and when?

And if she gives a date or ten

Pick one that works and – vital, then –

Go climb a tree or build a den

Or write a novel, be more zen.

Just chill the literal fuck out and leave me alone because honestly I cannot be doing with all this constant texting, Jesus Christ I am not a chatbot.

 

I won’t link to this from the Kink of the Week page because it’s too grumpy in tone, but you should absolutely go check out the page anyway because it’s DICK WEEK.

As I say, don’t take this too seriously. I wrote it when I was stressed and unable to deal with sexting. It’s just a silly poem, not a manifesto.

 

6 Comments

  • Purple Rain says:

    Oh, god, I hear you on the admin tag. I had to have a Quiet Word with a FWB who wanted to meet up, but kept asking me for suggestions, then saying no to them, then asking me again what *I* wanted to do. Pick a lane, my dude.

    Great poem :-)

    • Girl on the net says:

      Ohhhh yeah. I have sometimes gone a bit ‘work to rule’ on making plans, if I end up always being the one who makes them. I don’t usually mind what we do but I do like someone else to make the effort sometimes – often the nicest bit is just someone else putting the thought in and coming up with something you can do together!

  • Mosscat says:

    This is the first thing I’ve read this morning….what a way to start my day with a grin 😁

  • Utterly relatable.

    Love your content. Long-time lurker, first time commenter.

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