बीड़ी बाज़ उस्ताद : When Discretion Overpowers Bragging

जब जब है मिली तब तब है मारी

वैसे हूँ मैं ब्रह्मचारी।

– सिक्योरिटी गार्ड भाई साहब ने एक बीड़ी मुझे पिलाई, एक अपनी जलाई और ये ज्ञान की बात भी साथ में बताई।

Once upon a time, there was an old bull. Along with him was a young bull and they were standing together on a hill. Below the hill was a vast grassland. Both of them saw sexy young cows grazing in the fresh green grass and felt a tingle in the penises. The young bull immediately ran down the hill and fucked the first cow he found. All the cows saw this obviously foolish and clearly ignorant act of unconscious copulation by the young bull and ran away to their respective shelters. They decided to never ever mate with the young bull because he fucked but was not gentle enough to do so in a confidential manner. During this time, the old bull stayed on the hill. He slowly walked down the hill after a few days and began to carefully watch the cows who were busy with their grazing. Without the cows noticing his presence in their surroundings, the old bull fucked all of them one cow at a time. No cow knew about the sexual encounter of other cows with the old bull because nobody saw this obviously unknown and clearly discreet act of conscious copulation by him. This story was once told by Tucker Max and I just paraphrased it.


There are people who brag about their accomplishments. The selfie clicking and loudly grunting dude who can easily be spotted in the gym with his pectorals and biceps screaming for attention is exactly this type. The man who proudly shows off his pre-primary school daughter’s pig shit of a drawing to his neighbours also counts in this category. And also in this league is your favourite female friend who marks a check-in on Facebook every time she buys a cup of coffee at some fancy place. The world is full of people who feel empowered by bragging about their annual income, dick size, shoe price, college name, cushion colour, vacation ticket, mother’s age, child’s height, grandpa’s teeth, puppy’s nails, car’s mileage and lover’s cleavage. Sometimes they explicitly and very narcissistically reveal the number of hours they sleep after getting drunk on whiskey or weed or coke or hash or fire or bricks or wood or glass or whatever. I am not going to talk about them anymore since bragging is only meant to get oneself a seat among fucktards who try too hard to stand out. Anyways, moving ahead.

The pathway to a lady’s wet and warm hole that has the universally accepted potential to liberate and rejuvenate a masturbating loner bum from his loneliness, that pathway has the signboard of discretion. You can also call it the art of maintaining confidentiality or being covert. Fuck but don’t tell, that’s what it means. When it comes to having sex and having more and more of it with a lot of people, bragging doesn’t work. Being loud and vocal of your sexual partners’ details only gets you a place in the block list of antisocial guys, spoiled dates that don’t even end with a tight hug, unfulfilled fantasies which stay behind bathroom doors and no goddamn chance to use that condom that you have been carrying in your wallet since the last valentine. The rule is to simply be a silent observer in this arena of leaking fluids, penetrated orifices, and breathless chests and the rule is very very clear. Almost as clear as the memory of a mental ward patient who was hit by a rod on his head by a bunch of drug peddling goons. Being discreet. Being confidential.


The answer to how many tongues have you wiped cleaned of their saliva or how many naked butts are you gonna spank in the next few months is not an answer a wise and a thoughtful and a sexually experienced and a James Bond worshipping man would ever give. For a woman knows that if he reveals the details of the last woman he fucked, he will also reveal the details of the next woman he is gonna fuck and she would, in that case, decide to not fuck him. And ever since this great realization came to a man’s head, he excused himself from this rat race of braggarts and became the covert fucker. He fucks but never tells. He might tell you what he did the last time he was alone with a woman, but you would never know whether the woman with whom he had a good time that evening was your office colleague or studious flatmate or dearest cousin or loving mother. The way to a woman’s heart might not be easy to figure out but the old bull has taught me to never tell how many times the head of my sperm delivering machine has been kissed by a woman’s lips.

सफर लम्बा है और धूप बहुत हो रही है, गमछा लपेट लेना ही सही रहेगा।जय गौरी मैया की।


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