Category: Debauchery

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You Gonna Lick That?

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I have an affinity for eating booty.  It’s kind of like licking a dirty penny.  But I’m into it.

Does that make me a gross person?  Most of my friends feel the same way I do about butt stuff.  Maybe it’s the reason we all hang out?

Most girls I run into seem to like a little butt play – Whether it’s a finger rubbing their butthole, a tongue licking it or an occasional finger, toy or a dick up there.  90% of the women I’ve hooked up with enjoy one or some combination of these three activities.

Some girls don’t want to admit they like butt play because it makes them feel dirty, embarrassed or ashamed.  These are usually the same women who roll over, spread their cheeks and press their asses into my face from the first moment they feel my tongue enter their crack.  Deep down they know it feels good, but repress those feelings.  I think women should embrace what they enjoy without shaming themselves.  What can I say, I’m a male feminist at heart.

I hear Catholic Schoolgirls apparently only do anal because they want to remain virgins.  I don’t necessarily buy their logic, but I would never argue with them.  Where were they when I was growing up?  I’ve had to beg, plead and manipulate my way into most of my butt sex experiences.  Apparently my mom should have sent me to Catholic School.

Then there are the rare “nothing has ever been up there and no one has ever touched it” girls.  These girls drive me insane.  “I don’t like it, it feels weird.” They are so against experimenting they shut it down before they give it a chance.  Every time they clench their cheeks or tense up as I get even remotely close to their ass I can’t help but think of what George Carlin said – “Don’t be so suburban, it’s the new millennium.”  There are thousands of nerve endings in your anus, relax and enjoy it. (more…)

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Losing my V Card

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Middle school and high school weren’t my time to shine.  I was a scrawny, ugly child with a giant head.  Kids called me inflate-a-head and told me I looked like Rocky Dennis.

Girls didn’t find me attractive.   My antics and attitude didn’t help my situation either.  I didn’t get laid until I was 18.  I was a late bloomer.

At the end of my senior year of high school a girl finally noticed me.  She was a pretty, petite blonde girl who also happened to be one of the more experienced girls in my class.  To be blunt, she got around.

We would flirt with each other during sixth period computer class.  She had a boyfriend, but that didn’t seem to matter.  She was my only prospect, so I liked her.

One night we ran into each other at a party.  She was drunk and I wasn’t.  It seemed like a perfect opportunity to seize the moment.  We kissed and she offered me a blow job to drive her to her house because she was too intoxicated.

As much as I appreciated the offer I had to decline.  I had gotten a DUI more than a year prior and lost my licence for 18 months.  I was about to get my license back and I didn’t want to risk losing it for longer if I was caught driving without a license.

My friend stepped up and offered to drive her car.  Her and I got into the backseat of her Suzuki Sidekick.  My friend and another girl got into the front seats.   Within a few minutes she was blowing me in the back seat.  The other two people in the car started to laugh with disgust as they realized what was going on.

I wanted to keep this night going so we went back to my house because my mom wasn’t home.  I took her downstairs to my bedroom and took off her clothes.  I had no idea what I was doing.  I wasn’t even sure how my dick was supposed to work in this process.  Could I stick it in her limp?  I tried and she laughed.  She told me it didn’t work that way.

Once I figured out the logistics of sex, I slipped inside her for the first time and it felt magical.  Well, maybe not magical, but I was thrilled to finally lose my virginity.  I pumped away for what seemed like an eternity.  Finally I was about to cum and I told her.  She grabbed my ass cheeks, held me inside of her and told me not to stop because she was going to cum too.

I was afraid to cum inside of her and she could sense it.  She looked at me as I was about to cum and said “Don’t worry, just cum in me.  If I get pregnant, I’ll tell my boyfriend it’s his baby and make him pay for the abortion.”  I came and then instant sadness rushed over my whole being.  I had lost my virginity, but I couldn’t get her words out of my head.

I laugh about this now, but at the time it was disturbing.  This was the springboard into a long line of awkward sexual experiences that still, fortunately or unfortunately, continues on today.

 

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Tinder Beware

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I matched with this girl on Tinder.  I sent her a message saying, “you have great sideboob.”  It was the best thing I could think of.

Normally I don’t read profiles, but something told me I should read her’s.  It was rather aggressive.  She mentioned liking boobs, so I felt my opener was appropriate.

We chatted for a little bit and I gave her my number.

One night I got a text from her telling me she was sick.  We made some inane small talk.  The conversation wasn’t going anywhere.  She lost interest quickly.

I wasn’t nearly as aggressive as I should have been.  I think at one point I even asked if I could do anything for her to make her feel better.  I’m sure her vagina dried up immediately.

About a week ago I noticed she added me as a friend on SnapChat.  When I checked out her snap, the first thing I saw was her dancing around naked.  She captioned the video, “Feed me dicks.” Apparently she’s a porn star.

I became intrigued and I googled her SnapChat username, which happens to be her porn name as well.  Instantly a list of scenes she had acted in, across various genres, appeared.

At first I was relieved nothing happened. Then a wave of sadness hit me.

I started asking myself questions:

Why didn’t I pursue a fun evening with this girl?  She seems like a good time.

Did I miss my window of opportunity?

Should I try to text her again, or possibly message her on SnapChat?

How didn’t I realize she was in porn?

This line of questioning lasted for a day. Then I moved on.  I won’t lie, occasionally I check out her Snaps.   She’s either high, partying or naked.  Which is much more entertaining than most people I follow.

I guess I shouldn’t have been too shocked to find out she did porn.  The “I love Bang Bros” shirt she was wearing in her profile picture should have given it away.

 

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Don’t Bring Jesus Up In Here

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I saw him; staring me in the face with all his holiness and purity.  Immediately I felt guilty and my shaft went soft.

A few years back, my friend and I got together at a strip club in Orange County.  We were “those strip club” type of guys – Muscular, tattooed, attractive, with somewhat sordid morals.  Overall, the type of guys strippers wanted to meet in the club when they weren’t looking to make money.  No, I’m not proud of that statement, I’m simply stating a fact for the context of this story.

At this point in my life, I was making a living as an unlicensed, alternative-market pharmacist (to put it nicely).  I had all the free time in the world, but my friends had to work.  Instead of learning and bettering myself, I spent my days hanging out at strip clubs: eating steaks, drinking and meeting strippers.  Yes, the food is delicious at some strip clubs, especially the filet.

I felt comfortable in strip clubs.  Like I belonged.  I always made friends with the people who worked there.  Everyone from the bathroom attendants to the owners.  It’s cliche for someone in my previous line of work to date a stripper, but it was easy for me.  They liked me; and not in the “It’s their job to like everyone” sense.

I clicked with strippers.  There were numerous commonalities: loads of free time,  partying, promiscuity, daddy issues, a taste for nice things and bad relationships.

I got off track; back to the story.  My friend and I were at the club for maybe 30 minutes when two girls approached us, sat down and started to chat.  Twenty minutes later she asked if I’d like a lap dance.  Normally I say no.  Even though I’ve spent so much time in strip clubs, I rarely get lap dances.  They make me uncomfortable and feel bad about myself.  Everyone getting a lap dance looks like the world’s saddest perv. (more…)

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Beware of The Pen

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This pen.WGN90QP

My Sunday got high-jacked.  Pun intended.  Why do you think I spelled it wrong!?  Keep up.

It was a beautiful day outside.  I hit the gym early then made my way to the dog park.  Maddie loves the park.  I enjoy getting high and watching her play.

I brought my oil pen to the park with me.  what an ingenious invention.  I can smoke, essentially anywhere, with very little smell and it looks like I’m causally vaping.  Meanwhile, I’m getting lifted.

The problem with an oil pen is occasionally the effects are delayed.  I was puffing away at the park, not feeling phased in the least bit.  When I returned home and hour later, totally different ballgame.

I was barely functioning.  Showering took me  30 minutes.  Mainly because I kept getting sidetracked and forgetting the shower was on.  Preparing a meal wasn’t all that pleasant either.

I was baked.  I had work to do and football to watch.  But the next three hours were spent laying on my couch, playing with dating apps on my phone.  Probably not the best time to be messaging women.

I should have learned my lesson last night, which ended in a nasty incident involving a little pant shitting.  All I’m going to say is: 3 burritos, 6 tacos, a giant chocolate fudge brownie, mixed with numerous diet coke = a very uncomfortable car ride stuck in an hour of traffic.  I hit a bump in the road which jarred lose a fart that turned on me.  I felt my underwear become soiled, that and shame, lots of shame.

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My First Night With Rocket Tits

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I was crashing on a friend’s couch nursing a broken ankle when Rocket Tits first entered my life.  I was essentially homeless at this point, having recently broken up with my girlfriend who kicked me out of her house.  Rocket was leaving my friend’s house after staying the night with him.  We quickly said hello to one another as she raced out the door.

A few days later we ran into each other at a local bar.  She had just gotten off work at the strip club down the street.  We flirted and she made it obvious she was interested in me.  Apparently something about a guy living on a couch who hadn’t showered, brushed his teeth or combed his hair was appealing to her.

We made plans to get together that weekend.  But first I wanted to ask my friend, who was sleeping with her at the time, if he would be upset if I took her out.  When I brought it up to him he said, “Go for it, I don’t have any papers on her.”  To this day I’m still unsure what he meant by the last part of that statement.  I could tell he wasn’t happy about her wanting to go out with me.

Looking back, it was a dick move on my part.  I mean, I literally met her moments after she had sex with him, while I was staying at his house.  But, he should have been honest and said he didn’t want me to take her out.  Had he told me the truth it would have saved me years of aggravation as well.

The weekend came and Rocket and I went out on our date.  I remember pulling up to her house in my 7 series, blaring loud music, wearing a tank top and generally looking like a giant douchebag.  She was into it though.  Later, she admitted to me that she texted her friend when she saw me pulling up and told her she was definitely going to sleep with me.

We went out to a bar, had some drinks and lots of laughs.  The two of us clicked right away.  We were all over each other most of the night.  Forcing people to watch our trashy public displays affections.

On our way back to her house I stopped at a friends house to pick up a bag of coke for myself.  I seem to have this compulsion for putting substances in my body to ensure my dick won’t work properly.

I did a few lines and we started hooking up.  Of course I was having a monumental issue trying to get a hard on.  Finally I willed my dick to get just hard enough to use.  The whole time during sex I was praying she didn’t notice my boner was slowly fading.

We went through the motions, trying a few different positions.  For some reason she kept saying things to me like “You’re gay” and “I hate you” as we had sex, which wasn’t helping me keep my erection.  I couldn’t listen to her speak anymore so I rolled her over, bent her over the bed, stood up and took her from behind. (more…)

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Pass The Tissues For A Little DVDA

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I hadn’t finished cuming yet, but all I could think about was clicking the X on the browser.  Remorse set in.  The feeling of disgust overwhelmed my body.  I wanted it to stop.  Why did I watch that?  And more importantly how did that turn me on?

I’m not certain what makes me watch the things I do when I masturbate.  Maybe I’m a sick pervert.  That’s entirely possible.  Most women I have dated would probably agree.

Like most of the world I have become desensitized to much of what I see.  Porn is no different.  I’ve watched too much for too long I suppose.  The basic vanilla scene just won’t cut it.  Hell, double-stuffed anal won’t cut it these days.

I’m always pushing the limits of what I consider to be appealing.  I can’t get hard if I’m not looking at something I find completely revolting as soon as I finish.  It’s a strange phenomenon.

Trying to watch the rest of the scene once I’ve finished is torture.  I sit there trying to figure out exactly what turned me on about an 87 year old lady going down on an a midget and a rough-around-the-edges 21 year old girl.  Or why I googled “gross porn” to begin with.

Watching all of these horrible, disturbing scenes has nearly ruined my sex life.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to partake in type of stuff I watch, at least not all of it.  But normal sex with an attractive girl isn’t quite as exciting once you have witnessed what my eyes have seen.  I have to close my eyes and picture some deviant sex acts so I can finish.  I don’t want the girl to feel like something is wrong with her because I can’t cum.

I’m not blaming porn for my problems.  It’s absolutely me.  I’ve always been the type that has to push things further and further to see what happens.  Sometimes my inclination to push things to the limit has benefited my life greatly.  Not in this case though.

Occasionally I stop masturbating all together.  Mainly because I’m bored with what I’ve seen and I don’t want to explore new realms of porn.  I can’t handle it.  Finding something new that turns me on is exhausting work.  I can spend 30-45 minutes perusing different categories until I find something that works.  That’s before I even start on myself.  No one wants to put that much effort into masturbation.  I don’t put that much effort into preparing my food for the day and I love eating.

I’m debating starting a support group for this behavior.  There’s probably already something in place, but I want my group to be more fun.  I’ve talked to some friends who seem to share my predilection for masturbating to sex acts that make them question their life.  At least I’m not alone, that’s comforting.  There might be a recovery for us all and we can go back to being excited with basic guy-on-girl action.

 

 

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The Greatest Drinking Game On Earth

“Just swipe right as fast as you can for a minute straight.”  These were the directions my friend gave me as we embarked upon the most fun 15 minutes I’ve had in a long time.

A few months ago my friend and I got drunk at a Mexican restaurant and she introduced me to my first  drinking game using Tinder.  The rules are simple: Open the app and swipe right for one minute as fast as humanly possible.  Whoever matches with the most people during that round is the winner.  The loser of the round must drink one second for every person the winner matched with (i.e. 15 matches, drink 15 seconds).  Pretty simple right?

After three rounds of swiping right the fun part of the game starts.  By then each player should have at least 15-20 matches.  The final challenge is to get one of the people you matched with to send you a picture of their boobs or genitals.  This is where the game usually devolves pretty quickly.  The lowest common denominator came out quickly for me. (more…)

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That Wasn’t Water

As soon as I swallowed it was already too late.  I had grabbed the wrong water bottle and taken a large gulp.  I started to sweat.  I was nodding in and out of consciousness.  I knew I needed to get off at the next exit before I passed out behind the wheel.

I was leaving Philly on a Saturday morning driving to Reading, Pennsylvania to visit friends.  It’s about an hour drive if traffic isn’t too bad.  But, traffic is always bad driving on route 76.   I sat there in gridlock.  I was thirsty and reached into my backpack to grab my bottle of water.

hqdefaultI made a big mistake forgetting that I had two water bottles in my bag.  One filled with water, the other filled with GHB.  There’s a huge difference between a sip of each.  I drank a mouthful.  I needed to get off the road quickly.

I took the first exit I saw.  I made my way to a more secluded location between an industrial area and  a small patch of woods next to the Schuylkill river.   I parked my car and put the keys under my wheel well in case a cop came by.  I felt myself about to vomit.

I flung open my car door and violently threw up.  The vomit splattered off the ground and little chunks of it made its way into my car and onto my clothes.  The putrid smell made me gag and I threw up again.

I closed the door and laid back in my seat.  It was spring time and it was rather warm in my car.  I was sweating profusely.  I fell asleep for maybe 30 minutes when the uncontrollable urge to shit woke me up.

pooping-in-the-woods-300x169I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but if I didn’t act soon I was going to shit my pants.  I sprung out of my car and raced into the woods.  I found a stump and anchored myself against it.  I pulled down my pants and let loose.  It was awful. The equivalent of soft serve spewing out of my ass.

I was so relieved that I was able to safely clear my bowels that I didn’t think about how I was going to clean up.  I looked around for leaves I could use.  I’m not much of an outdoorsman so I was afraid that I may wipe my ass with something poisonous.

I had a nice shirt on so I didn’t want to use that.  Then it hit me.  Why don’t I use my wife beater?  I was standing on the side of the Schuylkill River with limited coverage from traffic, naked with my pants around my ankles, wiping my ass with a wife beater.

I was careful to clean the shit particles that had attached to my legs and balls and threw the wife beater on the ground.  I stumbled back to my car and passed out for a couple of hours.  When I woke up I continued on my journey to visit my friends, unphased from the mornings activities.

 

 

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I Put the Ass In Class

I used to be a partner in a nightclub in Philadelphia.  It was possibly the worst investment I have ever made as far as money is concerned.  I dealt with some of the worst people the city had to offer.  Several of my partner were unscrupulous to say the least.  But, I met a lot of really good friends over that time and the experience I gained was worth the loss on paper.

I sold my stake in the business four years ago.  Some of my partners stayed in the business with the new investors and they turned it a EDM club.  When I was involved it was a hip hop club in the Philly Urban scene.  Complete opposite sides of the nightlife spectrum.

Their first year in business they booked some of the biggest DJ’s from around the world to play there.  Many of my friends and former colleagues still worked there so I decided to treat the place like my personal playground.  I brought whoever I wanted there through the side-door, never paid for a drink and got in fights constantly.

back2The grand opening event was sold out.  There were more than 1200 people there that night. My friends and I partied our asses off.  At one point I walked up to the main bar, broke out a line of coke and sniffed off the bar in front of hundreds of people.  No one seemed to notice or care.

I left my friends at our table and made my rounds through the club.   I ran into a stripper I occasionally hooked up with.  When she saw me she started yelling and dancing around with excitement.  She immediately left the person she was talking to and jumped on me.  She wrapped her arms and leg around me and kissed me.

I carried her away with me through the crowd and into the clubs office.  Several of the employees were in the office working so we went into the private bathroom.  We kissed and did a couple bumps of coke.   Then, I bent her over and licked her ass.  Once I got hard I put my dick in her for a couple of pumps before someone started banging on the bathroom door.  I knew I wasn’t going to finish so we stopped and walked out.

I told her I would see her later and I went back to my table.  A close friend of mine asked where I had been and why my face smelled like an asshole.  I told him the story and the rest of the night he called me “stinky-butthole-face.”

Not too long after that I wound up being the douchebag wearing a wife beater in the club.  I was so drunk I kept trying to drink out of a cracked cup and spilled all over myself and everyone around me.

My friends and I went back to my house and kept the party going.  Around 6 AM only two of us were left standing.  I received a phone call from the stripper and she was crying hysterically.  She told me that her and her boyfriend had gotten into an argument and he punched her.  Unbeknownst to me, the guy she was talking to in the club when she started kissing me was her boyfriend.

I felt like a dick about the whole situation.  But not enough to do anything about it to help her.  I was drunk and coked up in the wee hours of the morning.  I wasn’t equipped to help her with her problem.  I told her I wasn’t sure what she wanted from me.  That ended the call abruptly.  Then I took a Xanax and went to bed.