After reading Ms. Anonymous’ thoughts, I must say I was seized with the sudden urge to write. Not about us women yackin it up … or the fact that yes, I’m as guilty as anyone of suddenly realizing that holy shit I haven’t even turned my damn speakers on … and oh my goddddd … so-and-so, the man of dreams is actually on MIC. Holy Mother of God … what is wrong with me?? DUH.

Well, maybe I’m being just a little cynical … but dammit, I actually laugh in that room sometimes. (And yes … I know as well as any of you that it’s very hard to cum when you are laughing so hard you’re about to pee). So here’s my thoughts on this wonderful home away from home that we all seem to have found ourselves in.

When I first stumbled into the whackin room (god, was it really five months ago?) … the first thing I thought to myself was woohoo … not only is there cock in here, there is no FIGHTING … no POLITICS … no BULLSHIT. None of the game-playing that so much of Internet-chat is filled with. A friend of mine (who’s almost as cynical as me) told me I was fooling myself. No games? No politics? No back-stabbing? Impossible, he said … give it time. (I told ya he was cynical).

No, no, I protested. You just don’t understand. This room is different. In fact, you know what it reminds me of? A male strip-club … guys performing for the ladies … some of them (the head-liners) a little more appreciated than others … girls-night out … a bunch of women hootin and hollerin … tuckin bills into the g-strings of the more uhhhh talented of the performers … drooling all over themselves, and each other … egging each other on to be even more outrageous … and when it was all over … going home with a big smile on their faces.

What more could a woman want?

My friend just looked at me with that look. You know the one. The one that says “god, you are soooooo naïve.”

Well, in some ways maybe I was. The room still does remind me of a male strip-club, however … and Ms. Anon’s post kinda reminded me why.

First of all … you know those wonderful guys who regularly frequent the room but never stroke? Or if they do, it’s done in private? They are not what you might call “public domain”. (And there’s an interesting concept … one I’ll get back to in a sec). Anyway, I kinda think of these guys as … umm … employees of the establishment? (And I know … now you think I’ve TOTALLY lost it). I dunno … they definitely aren’t performers … and they aren’t paying customers … so therefore, they must be part of the help. Bartenders. Bouncers. The cleaning staff? I picture them cleaning tables, chatting it up with the women … basically ignoring the performers on stage. I dunno … maybe the tips are good … and everybody’s gotta make a living, right? (And no Jimmy7786 … that doesn’t mean you get paid … hehehe.)

Next we have the paying customers … well, it’s obvious who they are. Think of it as Cheers … where everybody knows your name … not exactly a private club, but a close knit group of women just the same. (Or I dunno … maybe we’re all just horny … misery loves company, right?) Anyway … there are a lot of different reasons why we’re there. The obvious … we come to listen. We also come to have fun and flirt with the performers … we come to cry on each other’s shoulders when we have a bad day at work or the old man is being an ass again ... we come to hang out and laugh … we come because it’s fun to say mooooooo in unison … we come because we’re bored and don’t wanna go home. And yes … on occasion, we come to cum.

Which of course brings me to the performers. The entertainment. The main draw. Well, it’s obvious we have “head-liners”. The favorites. The ones who bring the house down. And they change on a regular basis … depending who’s there … depending on a lot of things, actually. Besides the head-liners, we also have what I’ll call the “opening acts”. The ones that get the crowd in the mood … build the anticipation … make us squirm a little in anticipation (or frustration, as the case may be … lol). Ahhh, those opening acts. Sometimes they bring us to our knees (holy shit … who was THAT?) … sometimes we clap politely (it takes a lot of courage to get up there, you know) … and sometimes, well, sometimes we just throw popcorn at them (bad, I know … but I’m trying to be honest here).

Not being a performer myself, I can only speculate what it must feel like. Not the whackin … hehehe … the other stuff. To watch the women at the table in front of you … totally ignore you … giggling away about something or other … totally oblivious to what you are doing up there. Or to have to listen to them heckle and boo you off stage, drowning out your performance with “WE WANT (INSERT YOUR FAVORITE STROKER’S NAME HERE)”. On the flip side, I can only guess what it must be like … night after night … every time you step foot in the room … to be greeted with “TAKE IT OFFFFFF, BAYBEE”. After all … strokers are people too. Maybe it’s your night off. Maybe you have a headache. You should be able to chill in the back of the room and have a drink just like the rest of us … without having your crotch fondled by every horny woman who happens to wander by. Ahhh … the life of a stroker.

You ever notice how few of our strokers chat in the room? There are some, of course. I would guess, however, that most of them chat exclusively in PM. Having been a reg in many other Yahoo chatrooms, I at first found this just a little odd. I found myself wondering … hmmm … why is it that 90% of the “chatting” in this room is being done by women? Maybe the guys don’t have typing skills, I told myself. Maybe their hands are tired. Hmmm. And then it hit me. In keeping with the analogy, it’s really quite simple. Fraternizing with the paying customers would not be good for business.

I mean, think about it. We’re trying to fantasize about you! There may be 67 women in the room competing for your cock at that moment, but trust me … as far as they’re each concerned … that cock belongs to THEM and THEM alone!! The last thing we’re gonna do is jump naked on the table and profess our undying love for that cock of yours, if we know it belongs to the woman sitting next to us. Ewwwww. Not only would it be tacky (she pretends it doesn’t bother her, but we all know she’s lying) … it would also be a waste of time (you may think you’re hiding it, but we know damn well she’s the only one you’re paying attention to). Public domain. Without it, you’re just another couple cybering in public … and chances are, we really don’t wanna hear it.

I’m sure there are couples in the room. Just like I’m sure those underpaid strippers on stage occasionally ignore the no-fraternizing rule. Is that bad? Well, of course not. Does it make it more awkward and complicated? Especially in our room? Well, I think you’d be fooling yourself if you thought otherwise. It’s the nature of the room.

Do I still think the room has no fighting or politics or bullshit? Well, as much as I hate to admit it … my friend was right. It may be a lot more subtle … but if you look hard enough, it’s there. I really think it’s how you chose to deal with it when it lands in the middle of your PM box that makes the difference. It may be just “chat” … or just the “internet” … but there are real people behind all those hot squishy noises and the oooo’s and ahhhh’s.

Happy strokin, everyone! (And where the hell is that waiter?? The service in this joint absolutely sucks ... hehehe).