Do I Look Like A Slut?

No, I’m not a 23-year-old woman trying to tell you how someone on the road looked at me inappropriately, so if you’re a Feminazi, go fuck yourself. If you’re not, go fuck yourself regardless because masturbation, my friend, is good way to keep you libido in control and avoid touching some random guy’s testicles, which by the way also happens to be our subject today. In hindsight, “Are My Testicles Worth Touching?” can also be a good title, but most of you haven’t been lucky enough to see my nutsack and wouldn’t be able to answer that so let’s stick to ‘Do I Look Like a Slut?’

This question arose because of a rather funny situation that I was caught in. I have been house-hunting since a couple of months. Last week was no different. I had been to Koregaon Park to look at a flat that I found through a broker. So this broker told me to wait near a medical shop from where he would pick me up and show me the place. So, I obliged and while I was standing there, sure enough a guy came and asked me to hop on his bike. And I did. Wrongest fucking move ever. If I knew that he asked me to hop on his bike in the anticipation that I would let him hop on my dick later, I would have hid my penis in a mountain far, far away with eight curses on anyone who would so much as even think about climbing that mountain to eventually climb on my phallus. But since I didn’t know it, I hopped on that bike and he drove me (trying to avoid the word ‘rode’ here for obvious reasons) to some fucked up shady road and I was wondering where the place is when he literally put his hand behind and touched my fucking balls. Now I am homophobic to be honest, but in all my phobia, I still thought this was an accident, shit happens man, But then, he literally fondled my left testicle and I swear I’ll keep feeling dirty about it until I wash both my balls with the holiest waters of Ganga. So anyway, I am thinking ‘what the fuck’, when my broker calls me and says, “Hey man, I am at the medical store. Where are you?” I still thank my forefathers for all the good deeds they did, the power of which compelled the guy to stop the bike when I asked him to stop and saved my penis from going in the wrong mouth covered with facial hair.

I was obviously freaked out. But if there was a more prominent feeling, it was embarrassment. I was embarrassed that someone took me for a gay hooker. I mean, at least acknowledge my XY chromosomes and consider me a straight hooker, if not a hooker at all.

So anyway, I called Isha and told her all about it and asked her f I looked like a gay hooker. She laughed and her exact words were: “You stand a little bit like a woman, so I wouldn’t be surprised.” Believe me when I say this, your girlfriend thinking there’s nothing wrong with people mistaking you for a gay slut is the worst thing that can happen to you, unless you’re actually a gay slut. In that case, you’re lucky. And your balls are unholy.

Honestly, I don’t think I look like a slut because I dress full, if not well, I don’t wear gaudy lipsticks and I don’t show my bust, because on that front, I cannot even compete Sonam Kapoor. If you know me personally, and if you’re not Isha, you’d vouch for this. I know this because I’ve been a cunt, a dick, an asshole and all the other sexual organs you can think of, but I have never acted like a whore. So it is beyond me why a random penis-lover would want to pick me up as a replacement to his electronic dildo. I don’t know who you are, but it doesn’t matter, tell me if you think I look like slut. Here’s the sexiest picture of mine.

This is from the time Isha asked me to look sexy

Actually you know what, don’t answer that.

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