Paulina,
I’m a woman in her early twenties, who’s currently in a long term relationship with a man. But lately I’ve found myself fantasizing about women. Am I a lesbian?
Indigo

Well honey, um like right off the cuff, I don’t know. Are you? Do you dig a bit of girl on girl action? I mean, I certainly knows that I’m lesbos. But I do see your dilemma, you’re not sure. You can’t go and spill your confusion to the boyfriend, as either he’ll freak his little cock out, or he’ll get so hard, he’ll be charging your torn thighs like a minotaur.

My, I’m getting all wet in the rear just thinking about his shaft. What’s that stallion like in the mouth, anyways?

Pardon, I digress. So listen sister, my advice to you would be firstly, get over your angst of the fish market and go out there and try it. And just a bit of a heads up, a lot of people say if you want the fresh fish, you’ve got to get up at the crack of dawn, but honey I’ll tell you that the real stuff, the spicy marinated cod, is available later in the evening and it’s oh so tasty. And like personally lovey, I always see the night out with the crack of dawn… musty little thing she is.

So you feel that hot flush between your thighs since you’ve been reading this, well that my dainty little mango eater is the carnal being within saying you needs a bit of that juice on your chin. You need to get out there for a Saturday night fish fry, get some of that flange in your face… here kitty, kitty… Baby you’ve got a soft spot for some feline and well so do I. We’ve got that taste for the tang. And there ain’t no reason you can’t have some good old cock coming in at another hole at the same time, if need be.

And if you’re feeling a bit shy about the matter. Maybe it ruffles your feathers down below, well what I’d say is this, get yourself into a bar and get the eye of one of those lovelies. Once they get up close, bend your nose down towards her crotch and inhale deeply upon that minge. Now after you take in that salty scent, if you can step away, if you can turn your face in the other direction, then I might go as far as to say that you may actually suffer some sort of heterosexuality… and we all know what we think about those don’t we.

Ms Noir,
I know you’re an agony aunt and all, but I’d like to ask you something personal. What with all the matters in the press at the moment, I was wondering whether you’ve ever actually ever slept with a terrorist?
Nosey Parker

Well, well you’re a sticky beak, aren’t you? I guess you’re the one I’ve heard creeping around near my front window in the evening, the heavy breather right. Oh my, have I thought about your heavy breathing down between my thighs. You know like when the moisture starts to dew up on the skin and there’s not even been any touchie

Terrorists, might I say that I’ve certainly been doing quite a bit of terrorising myself. Of late, I’d have to say one of my most terrifying performances was with Richard, the bald. Rubbing his beady scalp for a better grip as I penetrated his oh so not divine bronzed eye. He screamed for the lord above as I punished him, only to realise that I was that deity incarnate. And after that he couldn’t help but yelp for more, like the hound that he is. But still not to be too indecent, I wiped him up with one of my tea towels before I sent the pet on his way.

But me with terrorists, you’re still wondering. Well there was this one guy, I don’t know if he was a full terrorist or what, but he certainly had some heavy artillery under his cape. One such piece of machinery he had stashed away in his arsenal was a drone. Not one of those ones that Obama rides in on when he’s taking over the wild east, but rather a smaller more delicate device. We walked down to the park. I had to help him carry his package, as it was spilling out everywhere. He requested I lie down in the grass and like the dainty thing that I am, I complied making sure that I had it cocked up in the air, gazing at the moon. Then it was all a-buzz, buzz, as the drone took wing. He spun it round and around, getting closer and closer, building up the anticipation. My lips were trembling with excitement, until it entered and oh my did it fly, way, way up, deep into that passage until it was tasting the silverside I’d brunched on that afternoon.

There was this other guy though and he was def a terrorist. I think his name was Abbott. He reckoned he ran some country or something, but I was sure he was the dumb one out of some old comedy duo off the silver screen. He just turned up at my place one eve unannounced. And you know, I’m like used to strangers dropping in and all, but never has one entered my place and then suddenly stripped off so brazenly to his swimming costumes. And I was all like oh, I have to put my sunglasses on, whilst really I was thinking, I should be reaching for my reading glasses. He demanded I get on my knees, which I did quite readily, and started shouting that I’d come over on some sort of boat. I got a bit flustered, like does he mean that day I spent on the yacht with Larry and his crew?

Anyway, he’s got it in my throat, thrusting, waving his arms around in the air like he’s the big man. I’m thinking, honey this doesn’t even touch the sides. He came, I think. At least, I had to clear my throat a bit afterwards. Then I stood up and pushed him to the floor, and boy did he swallow mine like it was his mummy’s. I have to say though, I was most embarrassed when I pulled out too early and came all over his darling hijab…. most inappropriate, wouldn’t one say?

Hey there Paulina,

A trifle, really? Personally gorgeous, I think this is rather juicy. I mean, you sound like you’re getting rather wet and for all the wrong boys. Or actually you should ask yourself: are you getting juicy for the right boy?

Now me I love slippery slides, when they’re wet, wild and you can just like glide on in. Sticky and so icky… it tastes like rainbows all over my face. You know those times when you take a big run up, dive in and somehow you get stuck inside but once you’re in there, you never really want to get out. It’s like you’re in the womb again. Oh honey, remember that, how good was it in the womb, you were completely swimming in juice. And in the end you got to slide out the other way through the most glorious gateway of all. The one that even little old god fantasizes about. Hail Mary immaculate, for sure!

And just who is this flaccid guy you’re getting it on with anyways. When I bed down with a brute I demand that he has all my attention or I’m like, pull it out. Believe you me, I’ve met my fair share of duds but this one sounds like he takes the… or rather doesn’t take the burger whatsoever. I can see you there now, lying back, legs flayed out towards the sky, panting like the little puppy that you are, just waiting for some sort of a reaction in your nether regions and nothing, absolutely nothing. And then as nothing happens, suddenly he, that wanton donkey, appears before your eyes, braying into your deep cave. Oh sister, sister, sister… you have to get your act together and like now.

So here’s what to do. You’ve got to get back to this fella from the past. He’s the one who can touch your g spot, that spot this new guy has no idea exists. He’s the one who’ll chow down like the blessed saviour’s life depends on it… so much so you’ll be dead numb afterwards. And you have to get rid of this new guy. What I suggest is halfway through a sesh, pull out a mask you’ve designed, that resembles the other and demand he wears it. Then start screaming things like ‘ineffectual’, ‘weak’, ‘why can’t you give it to mommy’. He’ll soon get the picture and run away with his tail between his legs.

@paulinanoir

if you’ve got an itch that paulina can scratch then drop her a line at paulina@powderzine.com

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