Yes, I know what you’re thinking: I’m 25 years old, I have a full-time job, a 401k for God’s sake, and I’m just yet another millennial that still has their mother book their dick appointments for them. It’s so embarrassing, but it’s the one part of “adulting” that I haven’t gotten in the habit of doing on my own just yet!
I think one of the reasons why I don’t schedule my dick appointments myself is because I’m a busy woman. Between work, exercising, and keeping up with an active social life, you could say my hands are tied—most recently by Chad, who my mom found the other Tuesday. My schedule just doesn’t allow me to make such appointments during the normal Tinder business hours of 10 p.m.-2 a.m. Waiting on the phone for hours, playing phone tag, posting thirst traps to close to the deal—I just don’t have the time! So while I’m busy and at the prime of my life, my mom is newly retired and really feeling her empty nester-ness. And I know she might not want to admit it, but helping me with such trivial, day-to-day errands like booking my dick appointments helps to fill up her days and give her purpose. Scheduling my boinking sessions makes the days feel not as long for my mom, and the nights extra long for me!
Another thing is, my mom is really attuned to my symptoms and knows my history better than anyone I know, including myself. This makes her the most suitable person to choose a cock provider for me. Mom was there when I had a tween-age lady boner for Cory from Boy Meets World in middle school, so she knows I approve of Jewfros. Mom was there with me too through every heartbreak, and was able to pinpoint how three out of the four of my last boyfriends resembled a malnourished Channing Tatum, and that those are the type of strapping young gentlemen I’m comfortable with porking the living hell out of me.
It’s also nice that Mom can take care of all the mandatory, boring demographic stuff that I’ve gone over a million times already—so that when I arrive at my appointment, we’re not reviewing information like where I’m from, what I do for a living, and do I prefer to spit or swallow. Since Mom gets through all of that in the initial screener, Tinder bro and I can get right to the meat of the visit: us bumpin’ uglies on a mattress that doesn’t have a top sheet.
And when it comes to getting my dick appointments scheduled, I’m not the only one getting the long end of the stick. Booking my dick appointments gives my mom the feeling that she’s still needed, and still has a purpose as a maternal figure in my life. She needs to be needed, and I absolutely need to get plowed down hard by a complete stranger’s fuck rod and then never see them again—or, in another two to six months, if the sex was good and the pickings are slim. All in all, Mom and I fulfill each others’ needs this way. It’s simply human nature for mothers to want to baby and coddle their children, even up into adulthood. Some moms still do their adult children’s laundry, and some still cook them their favorite meals when they come home. Mine just happens to catfish dudes online on my behalf and arrange playdates for them to bang me not only senselessly, but also meaninglessly. And is that so drastically different? No. No, it’s not.
So while I continue to inch closer and closer to my 30s, I will continue to have my mother schedule me sessions to get my muffin stuffed. I know the day I’ll have to make my own dick appointments will come eventually, but for now, I’m comfortable being my mom’s little girl that she still has to take care of every once in awhile—even if that means arranging my sex dates which include me getting dicked down so hard that I’ll have to have her schedule me an actual doctor’s appointment—thank God I’m still on her insurance, though!