Fuck A Friend (It's Cheaper Than A Date)

Words to live by. I guess.

Uh, I over-masturbated just now, which means my penis hurts. At least I don't have to bother with it for awhile.

I really do hate someone else jerking me off. It's never the right pace, it's too fast, or too slow, or too limp handed, or much, too much of a squeeze. Stroking the shaft while receiving head is perfectly fine though.

And what am I talking about now? The topic is, sex with a friend. Sex with a bunch of friends. Whatever suits you. Don't ever feel too old for it either, it's great fun. Yeah, well, that was fun, anyway, want to grab lunch?

You see, the perfect ideal life would be to have sex without the other bullshit -- and by other bullshit, you should know what. Sigh, seriously, getting attached to someone, and the emotional investment is like a loaded gun to your face, just waiting to pop a bullet in your head and blow you apart when things don't work out. And they won't. Pessimism and realism are close to the same thing here. To me anyway. Like Murphy's law, which is a bitch. Murphy's a bitch.

Okay, just the thought of being emotionally involved with another human being is insulting to me. I wouldn't underestimate the harm that another person can cause you. I don't recommend myself either. Use me with extreme caution. Emotions are fucking insane, oh my God. Alcohol works to numb that. But I've been practicing controlling them. How has it been working out for me? Not very fucking good at all. I'm totally fine when I clear women out of my life, I'm meditative, I regain my heightened sense of well being, and I have a certain overall feeling of zen. Don't fuck with my Chi! You know I need a girl for the odd id release. An angry one. But it's never really that angry, or good. Well, it's sex, what am I complaining about? If the sex was great though I would lose myself and become a slave to it. It's whatever the girl wants, I don't really matter anymore. I'm then her sexual device, and I'm just an object to entertain her lady parts. Is this purpose? Is this like an exchange to the greater meaning? Is she just a fuck-toy? Or am I actually...

I really have to stop being so damn existential when I have sex. Imagine if I was vocal about it. I'd say, "why am I doing this? It's mindless and I can't wait till we're done. God, hurry the fuck up and cum. I can see myself in the mirror, I look like a fucking idiot, what am I doing? When I cum I just want to smash my face with something hard, like a rock! Seriously. If this is the pinnacle to life, then count me out. Okay, this feels really good right now. Ah, fuck it, I won't even cum. You suck!"

Jesus, what a killjoy I am.

When I Jerk-Off I Think Of..You?

Today while I was masturbating I found it difficult to do, because I'm pretty hungover. A friend of mine, she says that she has trouble getting a good rhythm going, and it's hard for her to orgasm when she's hungover. Yeah, it takes a lot out of me to get to that special, warm, and fuzzy place. Cloud 9, which is actually just a large wad of semen, maybe.

It's so much better if you fill your ass with some lubricant, and play around with your butt-hole before you ejaculate. I don't know, some times I masturbate after having sex, because only I really know how to properly touch myself. That's why God gave us hands. My mom actually told me that, gross. What else are they used for? Everything? Nah, just masturbation. When I masturbated today I noticed that one of my balls was pushed up, and I was wondering why it felt a bit different, but good too. Probably better. Is this a secret I've found? My friend told me once to twist my sack, and it would feel better. It didn't. But this ball lodging thing seemed promising.

I'm just reminded of my nuts all fancy free being mashed into a girl's body while my cock is inside of her. Another friend of mine says she likes the feeling of when testicals are slapping all around her. Cool, I guess. If you fucked a girl upside down, and had your balls rest on their hood, it could have clit stimulation, I don't know. I haven't tried it. Or maybe I have, I don't fucking remember. I just use my hand, my magic touch. Mom says.

You know I try not to think of mom usually, but thinking about not thinking about it usually makes her pop into my head. Pop my head? What? -- Anyway -- sometimes it's hard to imagine something that turns me on, but the typical stuff. It's really quite fucking boring, and I yawn, and sometimes fall asleep instead of finishing. I'll do it later, just like my laundry, or taking out my garbage. Ugh, when did it become a chore? Stupid dick, I'm tired of you. I'd like to not care. I hate being programmed to want to fuck. I feel I have no choice, because you know that I'll have a wet dream eventually. I'm sure celibate people have wet dreams, I think it still counts as sex. Define reality first, then tell me I'm not actually having sex in my dreams. I was getting a blow job last night in my dream, but it was about as eventful as in real life. So what.