Now for some gratuitous filth (you have been warned):
So I was sitting around the flat on a Thursday evening and decided to act out my favourite bible scene. It's the same scene I've acted out every day since I was 12, Onan spilling his seed.
So I'm on the web looking for encouragement. Luckily by this time my computer knows what to do without me having to tell it. I browse past a couple who seem to have absentmindedly gone on holiday having forgotten to pack their swimming costumes. I wander over to see a a naughty schoolgirl who is closer to menopause than graduation. But then I warm to my subject; the carefree experimentation of young college coeds and their naughty romps.
Now for me (and if you think I'm sharing too much already now would be a good time to warn you it ain't getting better from here on out) the first 5-10 minutes of my genital calisthenics is like the regular season in the NHL- enjoyable but doesn't really count. But as I sense I'm 'reaching the playoffs' I make sure the ancillary equipment is in place and let my mind drift along beautiful currents of blossoming womanhood between dorm-mates.
'Oh yeah, you and your friends just got back from class' STROKE STROKE
'A little experimentation between friends' STROKE STROKE
'Maybe now that I'm finishing my degree I'll get caught up in your naughty high jinks' STROKE STROKE
'Maybe I'll shag my way through all the future great and good of Oxbridge' STROKE STROKE
-Nearly time to fill Lord Stanley's Cup
'Imagine shagging some girl who went on to become Prime Minister or something' STROKE STROKE
-Here we go boys!
'Didn't Margaret Thatcher read history at Cambridge?'
-Woah!
I swear I heard the sound of screeching brakes at that point. Who thinks of Margaret Thatcher when seconds from orgasm? Not even Dennis Thatcher I would imagine. The little fellah managed what can only be described as a courtesy spit and then retreated deep inside my body cavity for the evening.
But this bodes ill indeed. If my brain has become so cocky from all its success ruining everything from attempts to chat-up girls to serious relationships, that it's now going to try to screw-up the wanking process I've worked so hard to perfect, well now we have a problem. I used to be so good at self love. Now I'm over thinking it? Depressing.
So I was sitting around the flat on a Thursday evening and decided to act out my favourite bible scene. It's the same scene I've acted out every day since I was 12, Onan spilling his seed.
So I'm on the web looking for encouragement. Luckily by this time my computer knows what to do without me having to tell it. I browse past a couple who seem to have absentmindedly gone on holiday having forgotten to pack their swimming costumes. I wander over to see a a naughty schoolgirl who is closer to menopause than graduation. But then I warm to my subject; the carefree experimentation of young college coeds and their naughty romps.
Now for me (and if you think I'm sharing too much already now would be a good time to warn you it ain't getting better from here on out) the first 5-10 minutes of my genital calisthenics is like the regular season in the NHL- enjoyable but doesn't really count. But as I sense I'm 'reaching the playoffs' I make sure the ancillary equipment is in place and let my mind drift along beautiful currents of blossoming womanhood between dorm-mates.
'Oh yeah, you and your friends just got back from class' STROKE STROKE
'A little experimentation between friends' STROKE STROKE
'Maybe now that I'm finishing my degree I'll get caught up in your naughty high jinks' STROKE STROKE
'Maybe I'll shag my way through all the future great and good of Oxbridge' STROKE STROKE
-Nearly time to fill Lord Stanley's Cup
'Imagine shagging some girl who went on to become Prime Minister or something' STROKE STROKE
-Here we go boys!
'Didn't Margaret Thatcher read history at Cambridge?'
-Woah!
I swear I heard the sound of screeching brakes at that point. Who thinks of Margaret Thatcher when seconds from orgasm? Not even Dennis Thatcher I would imagine. The little fellah managed what can only be described as a courtesy spit and then retreated deep inside my body cavity for the evening.
But this bodes ill indeed. If my brain has become so cocky from all its success ruining everything from attempts to chat-up girls to serious relationships, that it's now going to try to screw-up the wanking process I've worked so hard to perfect, well now we have a problem. I used to be so good at self love. Now I'm over thinking it? Depressing.
haven't you ever seen Austin Powers?