Julian Assange doesn’t like using condoms. Should “Miss A” and “Miss W” have been surprised? Mr. Assange is well-known for his dangerous releases.
Now I am not an advocate of unprotected sex, per se, but can’t a better contraceptive be developed?
Do we still need to torture penises to be safe? I might as well hump a Ziploc.
I get envious when I see a couple walking hand in hand pulling a baby carriage, because I think, “Damn, they got to have sex without a condom.”
But I digress. I am writing to defend Julian Assange. Most people don’t take the word “rape” lightly, but after the accusations surrounding Mr. Assange, we may start to. After he slept with two women separately, they both found out about the other. Understandably worried, they insisted he take an AIDS test. He wouldn’t. They went to the police to see if they could force him to take the test, and learned they could not. They also found out they had been raped. I am not an advocate of rape, per se, but if you have to be told you were raped, were you really?
They say Julian’s condom broke. I’m envious; I can barely fill up a condom unless I add a sock. I wish it would break.
I believe two adults navigating a mutual decision during sex – even if one has regrets afterwards – have not entered the realm of forced sex. Many women who slept with me have regretted it. They didn’t cry rape; they gave up drinking. For them, waking up next to me was hitting bottom. Fine with me. I get laid, she gets a sponsor. That’s a win-win in my book. A woman who neglected to say no isn’t entitled to call a man’s actions rape.
We all must be careful about whom we choose as an intimate partner, and what accusations we make. Most of us have been deceived. I once wined and dined a woman all evening. She was beautiful and voluptuous. We got physical. We kissed and groped. She reached down to feel me, and when I reached down to feel her, I realized we had something in common.
It was bizarre. I could see her bountiful breasts and male member. She was like a Greek myth, a minator. Did she have hoofs, too?
In situations like that, I ask myself what Jesus would do. So I took off. Took off! Right after she blew me. Hey, I am not gay, per se, but when a fellow goes out of his way to grow boobs and look pretty, the least I can do is let him please me. If he can act like a lady, I might as well be a gentleman.
This story is also posted at SqueakyLeaks.com.