The saga continues! All rights reserved, if you want to copy this elsewhere, please link it back to me.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
One Week Later
Last Wednesday, I had my tonsillectomy. The surgery itself went well, and between the painkillers and all else, I felt pretty well.
So well, in fact, that Thursday night I snuck out of my house for a few hours to hook up with a guy at the nearby University. This is the same university that I fucked Lucius at back in January. He was a cute guy, about three months older than me. An asian kid, 6'3", but really thin, like 150 lbs.
Long term readers of this blog should know at this point that I have a bit of an Asian fetish (they have smooth copper skin and straight hair... whatever turns me on, turns me on), so even though I was recovering from surgery, I gladly fucked him.
It wasn't anything spectacular. Some making out, he sucked my cock, I fucked him missionary style, then rolled over and he rode me cowboy for a little. After that, we jacked off, and I finished by straddling him and dousing him with my cum. I've gotten into that habit recently, it's a rather fun way to finish.
Anyway, Friday, my good friend, who I realized I have never mentioned before on this blog (how odd... I need a name for him... I guess I'll call him Todd), came by to visit me.
You see, Todd is one of my best friends from high school. He was the second one I came out to (after my girlfriend) and one of my core group of friends who I hang out with when I come back to town. Hell, Geoffrey, in Liam's Mistake, is a loose amalgamation of him and another friend.
Well, Todd, despite living out in the suburbs, has a research internship this summer at the university next to my house (the same one that I fucked Lucius at and the other boy just the other night. In the naming schema, this boy should be S, so I guess I'll call him Sam). He came over for lunch, which my mother prepared for the two of us. My mother, being a very talented cook, presented us with an extraordinarily delicious and aesthetically pleasing lunch, despite its relatively simple fare. I believe it was chicken with mushrooms, green beans, and rice, with a light salad with cheese, mandarin oranges, and poppy seed dressing. It was quite good. Afterward, Todd and I had a pleasant chat in the garden, and they he bid me farewell.
Saturday, another of my friends, who we will call Eric, was hosting a party. Yes, yes, this Eric was the template for Liam's Mistake Eric too. And like that Eric, he and I share the same birthday, June 18, 1991. He decided to hold his party a week late, June 25, and conveniently, I could attend. As I am not allowed to drive while under the influence of drugs (Roxicet - it's a combination of oxycodone and acetaminophen), Todd came by to pick me up. We had dinner first, then drove out to his house, where we hung out in his garden and talked for awhile. After that, we went to Eric's party. It was pretty much as described before - absurdly loud music, heavy drinking, lots of shady friends of Eric's.
I couldn't drink because I was taking acetaminophen, and combining that with alcohol causes major liver damage. Todd drank a little, but knowing he had to drive, he limited himself. So, the two of us spent most of the time playing pool. We left the party early, at around 12:30, and Todd drove me to the train station. The trains weren't running so late, so instead I slept over at Todd's.
The next morning, he made me scrambled eggs, and we went to church with his dad and dad's girlfriend. It was one of those mega-churches. I, as a staunch liberal Anglo-Catholic Episcopalian, who's own gothic inspired church construction was partially funded by my family's wealth over a 100 years, am not really a fan of such churches. But, maybe because I was heavily dosed on painkillers, I had a good time swaying with the music.
After church, Todd, his mother, his sister, and I, grabbed lunch at a small Italian restaurant where our waiter was one of Eric's lackeys. Like, the type of lackey where I've had that kid deliver weed to me in a park before, free of charge. Todd was there, too. Of course, we couldn't say that in front of Todd's mother, or Todd's sister, so instead we were just like, "Oh! Casey! Good to see you...." yeah. Awkward.
I also had to watch my tongue around Todd's family, which was rather fun while on drugs. "Hey, Todd, I hear Justin Bieber blankety blankety but it belongs to Usher blankety blankety blankety." And then Todd and I would share a good, hearty chuckle as his little sister, who loves the Biebs, would look on in confusion.
For those who don't get it, the uncensored version of that joke is: I hear Justin Bieber has a ten-inch cock, but it belongs to Usher and is shoved up his ass.
That night, I returned to Sam's bed, and fucked him again. However, for reasons I don't fully understand but believe are due to the painkillers, I could not cum. As I left, I casually asked Sam if he knew Lucius at all. He replied he did, that he actually lived in the same dorm as Sam, and that Sam didn't know him well, but had heard that he was clingy. Oh, gays and their gossip...
Monday, Todd came over for lunch again, and then I followed him to his lab, where I worked on math problems (never a good idea while high) and he worked on correctly the Langevin function to better described magnetic fields and account for interaction fields. He's a math and physics nerd.
Tuesday, Todd and I grabbed lunch at a small crepe place near my house (and, by extension, near the university). Now, if you ever get your tonsils removed, the doctors will tell you that days 5-8 are the worst. The doctors aren't lying. I woke up Monday in so much pain, I would punch toddlers for my medication. I woke up Tuesday in even worse pain. I'm awake right now, in the middle of the night between Tuesday and Wednesday, because holy god, I can barely swallow saliva, I'm in pain. Thankfully, the Roxicet keeps it under some control, and I should be healthy again soon.
In other news, I've almost finished Part 9 of Liam's Mistake, and Part 10 is progressing nicely. I should post Part 9 in the next few days.
On Thursday, I have my follow up with the doctor, and I should return to upstate New York sometime this weekend. Which is good, because I have an internship starting July 5, and a math class that started Monday.
So well, in fact, that Thursday night I snuck out of my house for a few hours to hook up with a guy at the nearby University. This is the same university that I fucked Lucius at back in January. He was a cute guy, about three months older than me. An asian kid, 6'3", but really thin, like 150 lbs.
Long term readers of this blog should know at this point that I have a bit of an Asian fetish (they have smooth copper skin and straight hair... whatever turns me on, turns me on), so even though I was recovering from surgery, I gladly fucked him.
It wasn't anything spectacular. Some making out, he sucked my cock, I fucked him missionary style, then rolled over and he rode me cowboy for a little. After that, we jacked off, and I finished by straddling him and dousing him with my cum. I've gotten into that habit recently, it's a rather fun way to finish.
Anyway, Friday, my good friend, who I realized I have never mentioned before on this blog (how odd... I need a name for him... I guess I'll call him Todd), came by to visit me.
You see, Todd is one of my best friends from high school. He was the second one I came out to (after my girlfriend) and one of my core group of friends who I hang out with when I come back to town. Hell, Geoffrey, in Liam's Mistake, is a loose amalgamation of him and another friend.
Well, Todd, despite living out in the suburbs, has a research internship this summer at the university next to my house (the same one that I fucked Lucius at and the other boy just the other night. In the naming schema, this boy should be S, so I guess I'll call him Sam). He came over for lunch, which my mother prepared for the two of us. My mother, being a very talented cook, presented us with an extraordinarily delicious and aesthetically pleasing lunch, despite its relatively simple fare. I believe it was chicken with mushrooms, green beans, and rice, with a light salad with cheese, mandarin oranges, and poppy seed dressing. It was quite good. Afterward, Todd and I had a pleasant chat in the garden, and they he bid me farewell.
Saturday, another of my friends, who we will call Eric, was hosting a party. Yes, yes, this Eric was the template for Liam's Mistake Eric too. And like that Eric, he and I share the same birthday, June 18, 1991. He decided to hold his party a week late, June 25, and conveniently, I could attend. As I am not allowed to drive while under the influence of drugs (Roxicet - it's a combination of oxycodone and acetaminophen), Todd came by to pick me up. We had dinner first, then drove out to his house, where we hung out in his garden and talked for awhile. After that, we went to Eric's party. It was pretty much as described before - absurdly loud music, heavy drinking, lots of shady friends of Eric's.
I couldn't drink because I was taking acetaminophen, and combining that with alcohol causes major liver damage. Todd drank a little, but knowing he had to drive, he limited himself. So, the two of us spent most of the time playing pool. We left the party early, at around 12:30, and Todd drove me to the train station. The trains weren't running so late, so instead I slept over at Todd's.
The next morning, he made me scrambled eggs, and we went to church with his dad and dad's girlfriend. It was one of those mega-churches. I, as a staunch liberal Anglo-Catholic Episcopalian, who's own gothic inspired church construction was partially funded by my family's wealth over a 100 years, am not really a fan of such churches. But, maybe because I was heavily dosed on painkillers, I had a good time swaying with the music.
After church, Todd, his mother, his sister, and I, grabbed lunch at a small Italian restaurant where our waiter was one of Eric's lackeys. Like, the type of lackey where I've had that kid deliver weed to me in a park before, free of charge. Todd was there, too. Of course, we couldn't say that in front of Todd's mother, or Todd's sister, so instead we were just like, "Oh! Casey! Good to see you...." yeah. Awkward.
I also had to watch my tongue around Todd's family, which was rather fun while on drugs. "Hey, Todd, I hear Justin Bieber blankety blankety but it belongs to Usher blankety blankety blankety." And then Todd and I would share a good, hearty chuckle as his little sister, who loves the Biebs, would look on in confusion.
For those who don't get it, the uncensored version of that joke is: I hear Justin Bieber has a ten-inch cock, but it belongs to Usher and is shoved up his ass.
That night, I returned to Sam's bed, and fucked him again. However, for reasons I don't fully understand but believe are due to the painkillers, I could not cum. As I left, I casually asked Sam if he knew Lucius at all. He replied he did, that he actually lived in the same dorm as Sam, and that Sam didn't know him well, but had heard that he was clingy. Oh, gays and their gossip...
Monday, Todd came over for lunch again, and then I followed him to his lab, where I worked on math problems (never a good idea while high) and he worked on correctly the Langevin function to better described magnetic fields and account for interaction fields. He's a math and physics nerd.
Tuesday, Todd and I grabbed lunch at a small crepe place near my house (and, by extension, near the university). Now, if you ever get your tonsils removed, the doctors will tell you that days 5-8 are the worst. The doctors aren't lying. I woke up Monday in so much pain, I would punch toddlers for my medication. I woke up Tuesday in even worse pain. I'm awake right now, in the middle of the night between Tuesday and Wednesday, because holy god, I can barely swallow saliva, I'm in pain. Thankfully, the Roxicet keeps it under some control, and I should be healthy again soon.
In other news, I've almost finished Part 9 of Liam's Mistake, and Part 10 is progressing nicely. I should post Part 9 in the next few days.
On Thursday, I have my follow up with the doctor, and I should return to upstate New York sometime this weekend. Which is good, because I have an internship starting July 5, and a math class that started Monday.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
There Will Be Moaning
In a little under 11 hours, I will go under the knife. Following the whole hospital incident last week, my family and I decided I should get my tonsils out. I returned home in the wee hours of Tuesday morning, grabbing breakfast with my dad in a little diner that we've been going to since I was little around 7 in the morning.
After coming home, where my mom crooned and sighed over me about worried she was and all that, and where my dog pounced up on me, smiling and wagging her tail and being absurdly cheerful as only dogs can be, my mother and I went to the ear, nose, and throat doctor.
One quick look at my tonsils and he scheduled a surgery for the next day.
Tonight, as I was staying up and fearing for the morrow, I got a message from Ralph: [my home city]? you alright, tiger?
I replied I was getting that I was getting my tonsils out and would be back in about two weeks. He gave his condolences, and then described everything he wanted me to do to him after I get back, which proved for some pretty hot reading.
Ralph: (1:02:19 AM) first thing we do when i come over is we take off my pants and pop in the curvy dildo you've got
Jack: (1:02:41 AM) I like
Ralph: (1:02:41 AM) after that idk we stand there, compare cocks. marvel at yours
Jack: (1:02:59 AM) always my favorite past time
Ralph: (1:03:11 AM) you can keep a hand on the base of the dildo, moving it around, pushing it in and pulling on it
Ralph: (1:03:12 AM) etc
Ralph: (1:03:26 AM) then i suck your cock for a while
Ralph: (1:03:32 AM) in a some cool positions
Jack: (1:03:43 AM) very hot
Ralph: (1:03:57 AM) like you sitting on the edge of the bed, me kneeling on the floor sucking on it
Ralph: (1:04:18 AM) or my laying on my back on the bed, with my head at the edge of the bed and you feeding me your cock
Jack: (1:04:32 AM) see if you can deepthroat it?
Ralph: (1:04:39 AM) at least try
Ralph: (1:04:49 AM) if not it'd be hot to just lay it all on my face
Ralph: (1:04:57 AM) really drive the point home that it's a biggy
Ralph: (1:05:05 AM) slap it on my face
Jack: (1:05:25 AM) sounds like fun
Jack: (1:05:29 AM) I look forward to it
Ralph: (1:05:46 AM) me too
Jack: (1:05:52 AM) I notice that none of your ideas include me fucking you
Ralph: (1:05:58 AM) i'm getting there
Jack: (1:06:06 AM) I know you are
Ralph: (1:06:21 AM) so all this time i've got the dildo in me, and my ass is relaxing
Ralph: (1:06:50 AM) i should be pretty damn loose
Ralph: (1:07:09 AM) at least loose enough for you to just go in with me on all fours
Ralph: (1:07:29 AM) just go in, for the soviets it was called 'shock therapy'
Jack: (1:07:51 AM) just plow you into the bed
Ralph: (1:07:52 AM) hurts at first, but you get used to it sooner and it's easier in the long run
Ralph: (1:08:14 AM) i'll just have to bite the bullet and let you plow all the way into me
Jack: (1:08:30 AM) you make it sound terrible
Ralph: (1:08:44 AM) you'll like it
Jack: (1:08:45 AM) you'll be moaning like a whore the entire time, I promise you
Ralph: (1:08:49 AM) i'll like it too
Ralph: (1:08:51 AM) oh yeah
Ralph: (1:08:55 AM) there will be moaning
After coming home, where my mom crooned and sighed over me about worried she was and all that, and where my dog pounced up on me, smiling and wagging her tail and being absurdly cheerful as only dogs can be, my mother and I went to the ear, nose, and throat doctor.
One quick look at my tonsils and he scheduled a surgery for the next day.
Tonight, as I was staying up and fearing for the morrow, I got a message from Ralph: [my home city]? you alright, tiger?
I replied I was getting that I was getting my tonsils out and would be back in about two weeks. He gave his condolences, and then described everything he wanted me to do to him after I get back, which proved for some pretty hot reading.
Ralph: (1:02:19 AM) first thing we do when i come over is we take off my pants and pop in the curvy dildo you've got
Jack: (1:02:41 AM) I like
Ralph: (1:02:41 AM) after that idk we stand there, compare cocks. marvel at yours
Jack: (1:02:59 AM) always my favorite past time
Ralph: (1:03:11 AM) you can keep a hand on the base of the dildo, moving it around, pushing it in and pulling on it
Ralph: (1:03:12 AM) etc
Ralph: (1:03:26 AM) then i suck your cock for a while
Ralph: (1:03:32 AM) in a some cool positions
Jack: (1:03:43 AM) very hot
Ralph: (1:03:57 AM) like you sitting on the edge of the bed, me kneeling on the floor sucking on it
Ralph: (1:04:18 AM) or my laying on my back on the bed, with my head at the edge of the bed and you feeding me your cock
Jack: (1:04:32 AM) see if you can deepthroat it?
Ralph: (1:04:39 AM) at least try
Ralph: (1:04:49 AM) if not it'd be hot to just lay it all on my face
Ralph: (1:04:57 AM) really drive the point home that it's a biggy
Ralph: (1:05:05 AM) slap it on my face
Jack: (1:05:25 AM) sounds like fun
Jack: (1:05:29 AM) I look forward to it
Ralph: (1:05:46 AM) me too
Jack: (1:05:52 AM) I notice that none of your ideas include me fucking you
Ralph: (1:05:58 AM) i'm getting there
Jack: (1:06:06 AM) I know you are
Ralph: (1:06:21 AM) so all this time i've got the dildo in me, and my ass is relaxing
Ralph: (1:06:50 AM) i should be pretty damn loose
Ralph: (1:07:09 AM) at least loose enough for you to just go in with me on all fours
Ralph: (1:07:29 AM) just go in, for the soviets it was called 'shock therapy'
Jack: (1:07:51 AM) just plow you into the bed
Ralph: (1:07:52 AM) hurts at first, but you get used to it sooner and it's easier in the long run
Ralph: (1:08:14 AM) i'll just have to bite the bullet and let you plow all the way into me
Jack: (1:08:30 AM) you make it sound terrible
Ralph: (1:08:44 AM) you'll like it
Jack: (1:08:45 AM) you'll be moaning like a whore the entire time, I promise you
Ralph: (1:08:49 AM) i'll like it too
Ralph: (1:08:51 AM) oh yeah
Ralph: (1:08:55 AM) there will be moaning
Saturday, June 18, 2011
A Truly Awful Story
I was just discharged from the hospital a few hours ago. I'd been there for a couple days due to some badly infected tonsils (yes, yes, the same damn thing happened three weeks ago).
It's also my 20th birthday. That feels weird to type.
I'm no longer a teenager.
Here's what happened:
On Wednesday, I woke up with a raging sore throat. Horribly inflamed and awful feeling. I spent the entire day at home, hoping that through rest and fluids it would improve.
Thursday, there was no improvement, so I went to my university's student health service, who then sent me on the emergency room. Four hours later, I was discharged with a few prescriptions, a pat on the head, and "if you don't feel better in five days, go to this clinic."
Later that night, I was back. My tonsil had swollen so large that it nearly blocked off my throat. Swallowing was impossible, breathing could only be done through the nose. Sadly, I only noticed the swallowing part when I was in the midst of watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and I nearly drowned in my own saliva. The movie wasn't bad though.
After returning to the hospital, I was rushed into Trauma where they drained my peritonsillar abscess of pus once again, this time removing 18 ccs of pus (for those of you keep score at home, that's 25 ccs of pus that has been removed from my right tonsil). The two doctors treating me and I had made friendly bets on how much pus we thought there might be beforehand. The three bets had been 2 ccs, 5 ccs, and 7 ccs. The ear, nose, and throat doctor said it was the most pus he had ever removed from a tonsil before and that it might be a hospital record. He also sincerely hoped that the hospital didn't keep a record book for things such as this.
As it was, I spent all of Friday in the hospital and a good bit of Saturday as well. Finally, they released me with scripts for antibiotics and powerful painkillers. The antibiotics alone were over $70. The painkillers... they didn't have them at the pharmacy, since what was prescribed was a solution (I still can't swallow well), so they put in an order for it.
At this point, the young male pharmacist looked at me rather concerned. He is an intern still in pharmacy school, with a small piercing in his left ear (he had my gaydar twitching a little... plus, he was cute, so wishful thinking, too). "Um... you prescription here is for some pretty powerful painkillers, are you sure you'll be okay without them for a few days?" I was prescribed Oxycodone-Acetaminophen (Roxicet), which is used for moderate to severe pain. I said of course I'd be fine, it was the antibiotics that were time critical. He looked at me strangely and asked how long ago I'd been released from the hospital, and when my last dose of painkillers was. It had been some time before, and I confided in him that I thought sometimes doctors over prescribe necessary pain killers. Still, his concern was touching.
Afterward, as I was picking up popsicles in the drugstore, Todd, a good friend from home called and wished me a happy birthday, remarking at the strange fact that I always seem to be either coming or going to the hospital around my birthday.
It's also my 20th birthday. That feels weird to type.
I'm no longer a teenager.
Here's what happened:
On Wednesday, I woke up with a raging sore throat. Horribly inflamed and awful feeling. I spent the entire day at home, hoping that through rest and fluids it would improve.
Thursday, there was no improvement, so I went to my university's student health service, who then sent me on the emergency room. Four hours later, I was discharged with a few prescriptions, a pat on the head, and "if you don't feel better in five days, go to this clinic."
Later that night, I was back. My tonsil had swollen so large that it nearly blocked off my throat. Swallowing was impossible, breathing could only be done through the nose. Sadly, I only noticed the swallowing part when I was in the midst of watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and I nearly drowned in my own saliva. The movie wasn't bad though.
After returning to the hospital, I was rushed into Trauma where they drained my peritonsillar abscess of pus once again, this time removing 18 ccs of pus (for those of you keep score at home, that's 25 ccs of pus that has been removed from my right tonsil). The two doctors treating me and I had made friendly bets on how much pus we thought there might be beforehand. The three bets had been 2 ccs, 5 ccs, and 7 ccs. The ear, nose, and throat doctor said it was the most pus he had ever removed from a tonsil before and that it might be a hospital record. He also sincerely hoped that the hospital didn't keep a record book for things such as this.
As it was, I spent all of Friday in the hospital and a good bit of Saturday as well. Finally, they released me with scripts for antibiotics and powerful painkillers. The antibiotics alone were over $70. The painkillers... they didn't have them at the pharmacy, since what was prescribed was a solution (I still can't swallow well), so they put in an order for it.
At this point, the young male pharmacist looked at me rather concerned. He is an intern still in pharmacy school, with a small piercing in his left ear (he had my gaydar twitching a little... plus, he was cute, so wishful thinking, too). "Um... you prescription here is for some pretty powerful painkillers, are you sure you'll be okay without them for a few days?" I was prescribed Oxycodone-Acetaminophen (Roxicet), which is used for moderate to severe pain. I said of course I'd be fine, it was the antibiotics that were time critical. He looked at me strangely and asked how long ago I'd been released from the hospital, and when my last dose of painkillers was. It had been some time before, and I confided in him that I thought sometimes doctors over prescribe necessary pain killers. Still, his concern was touching.
Afterward, as I was picking up popsicles in the drugstore, Todd, a good friend from home called and wished me a happy birthday, remarking at the strange fact that I always seem to be either coming or going to the hospital around my birthday.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Hot Chocolate: A Haiku
Should be made with milk
Made with water, tastes like shit
Like shit, drink coffee
Made with water, tastes like shit
Like shit, drink coffee
 |
| This is a cup of hot chocolate, shit, or coffee. Any way you look at it, it's still appropriate. |
My Type of Problem
Since nearly all of the posts on this blog are about sex and my adventures, writing for this blog requires two things. 1) For me to be horny enough to write about it, and 2) for me to have recently had adventures worth writing about.
This creates a mild paradox, because if I've been getting laid a lot recently, then I'm generally not horny and unwilling to write. If I haven't been getting laid, then I'm horny enough to write, but don't have anything worth writing about recently. This is something my roommate refers to as the "Fuck you, I'm the only one in this house who hasn't gotten laid in the past year" paradox. Maybe I should get him to write this for me as I dictate to him...
Take May for example. In the month of May, I got laid six times in two cities, spent some time in the hospital, took my final exams for the year, had a battery of STD tests taken, and moved twice. That's a lot of stuff to write about. About my life alone, I probably could have written 11 or 12 posts.
Instead, during that same month, I posted on this blog five times. Only one was a hook up story (Sleeping with Friends, Part 3). The others were a collection of tumblrs I enjoy (mostly used as my own directory for when I forget), part 7 of Liam's Mistake, a brief summary of what I had drafted and not posted, and a short update on what was happening in my life. Two posts, total, on my life.
Maybe I should post more, but I don't really see that happening. This is a porn blog, yes, but very little of it is actually porn. Tumblr is a much better format for reposting porn, and there are already dozens, if not hundreds of blogs that already post all the porn that I enjoy watching, so there's no pressing need for me to add to the chorus.
Really, the only thing worthwhile I produce on this blog is my exclusive content: stories of my life and Liam's Mistake. And roughly no one (okay, one or two people, tops) reads those. So yeah... I'm just going to continue posting whatever shit randomly passes through my brain.
This creates a mild paradox, because if I've been getting laid a lot recently, then I'm generally not horny and unwilling to write. If I haven't been getting laid, then I'm horny enough to write, but don't have anything worth writing about recently. This is something my roommate refers to as the "Fuck you, I'm the only one in this house who hasn't gotten laid in the past year" paradox. Maybe I should get him to write this for me as I dictate to him...
Take May for example. In the month of May, I got laid six times in two cities, spent some time in the hospital, took my final exams for the year, had a battery of STD tests taken, and moved twice. That's a lot of stuff to write about. About my life alone, I probably could have written 11 or 12 posts.
Instead, during that same month, I posted on this blog five times. Only one was a hook up story (Sleeping with Friends, Part 3). The others were a collection of tumblrs I enjoy (mostly used as my own directory for when I forget), part 7 of Liam's Mistake, a brief summary of what I had drafted and not posted, and a short update on what was happening in my life. Two posts, total, on my life.
Maybe I should post more, but I don't really see that happening. This is a porn blog, yes, but very little of it is actually porn. Tumblr is a much better format for reposting porn, and there are already dozens, if not hundreds of blogs that already post all the porn that I enjoy watching, so there's no pressing need for me to add to the chorus.
Really, the only thing worthwhile I produce on this blog is my exclusive content: stories of my life and Liam's Mistake. And roughly no one (okay, one or two people, tops) reads those. So yeah... I'm just going to continue posting whatever shit randomly passes through my brain.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
To Hell and Back Again
Ralph lay there, covered in my cum. It dripped down his slightly raised left shoulder and down his chest and stomach. It dripped from his left cheek, where a large splotch had caught him. It stuck in his shaggy brown hair and some of it clung to the wall beyond him.
"I had no idea you were a shooter."
It was an understatement. I had just fired a week's load of cum at Ralph like he was the canvas of a Jackson Pollack painting. I rolled off from where I had been straddling his legs and lay next to him as he mopped up my cum with my discarded shirt. "I'm still horny," I said. "I think I can do it again, want to see me try?"
"I had no idea you were a shooter."
It was an understatement. I had just fired a week's load of cum at Ralph like he was the canvas of a Jackson Pollack painting. I rolled off from where I had been straddling his legs and lay next to him as he mopped up my cum with my discarded shirt. "I'm still horny," I said. "I think I can do it again, want to see me try?"
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