sex is always necessary, except for when i used to do it. Then it probably wasn't.
I have to admit, I made one or two mistakes as a younger man. Well, three or four....
I wish I could say I have always maintained a strong moral code and a rock solid set a values that valued sex as something sacred and special; only to be shared with an incredible woman that I loved and wanted to be with forever.
This would insinuate that I am somewhat like my father.
To the world's dismay, I spent 25 years, nothing like my father.
I am not the slightest bit proud of my prior, less meaningful, and less romantic dealings with women. As a matter of fact, I am ashamed of some of the things I've done. Well, most of the things I've done.
I've always been careful to reserve my stories for groups of my close friends, fraternity brothers, and Marine brothers; usually in a living room the morning after a party. For years my friends have been pushing me to write my stories and sell them. I held out, until now.
I had a dream, and in it God spoke to me,
"Donny you need to hurry up and write all your funny sex stories, because me and all the Saints have been cracking up watching you the last 17 years. Even Mother Teresa thinks you're hilarious."
I said "Yes SIR," and then I woke up and started writing. I write with a clear conscience, because I've been ordained by God.
Before you read my stories, you should know a bit about why they happened, and why, despite having such upstanding parents, and such a good upbringing, I became so indecent.
The art of "hunting" as I call it, or "courting," as my parents would call it, or "picking up chicks" as most normal people would call it, has been an ongoing process that began as a distant fantasy when I was 13 years old. The instant I blew my first load by mistake on the carpet of my bedroom floor, I knew that I was going to spend a lot of time trying to convince a woman to make that happen for me.
I spent 3 years jerking myself off in every weird position imaginable, with every different type of lotion, with many different strokes, and eventually graduated to fucking the giant Shamu stuffed animal that I won at the arcade, before the mouth of a female finally touched my dick.
By the time a woman finally made contact with my dick, I felt like I had years of catching up to do. This feeling led to two things:
1) I became a chronic premature ejaculator. (Still am)
2) I approached every single minute, of every day from 16-25, as an opportunity to make up for all the years that women had NOT touched my dick.
My stories about sex, hand jobs, and blow jobs are nothing short of depressing, disgusting, and inspirational.
This is the progression of my sex life, from age 13 to 30.
13 to 16- Furious, aggressive, and frustrated dick beating on the bathroom floor; both with and without lotion and/or my finger up my own ass. Occasionally, I would fuck my Shamu stuffed animal, on a few occasions, if I was picked on by the assholes at school that day, I would cry after cumming, and then cuddle Shamu. Depressing.
16 to 17- An angel finally touched my dick. Soon after that I created a mutual oral sex agreement with a horny freshman who lived down the street. Undoubtedly one of the best relationships I've ever had. That went on for almost a year and was very healthy. Inspirational.
17to 21- I stuck my dick in absolutely anything that slightly resembled a female; so long as she had a faint heart beat and enough brain activity to mumble the words, "Do you have a condom?" or "Did you hook up with any girls in my pledge class?" I usually had my nut busted in under 5 minutes. Often, under one minute. I was not ashamed of this. Women were generally not pleased, but I always felt it was a compliment to them. Disgusting.
22 to 25- By day, sober, I had excellent and impressive taste in, and respect for, women, even by southern California standards; by night, with enough liquor, I would continue to fulfill my lust for a warm and wet hole with the likes of Jabba the Hut's wife, Gollum's sister, and other evil creatures from the depths of Mordor.
I usually had my nut busted in under 5 minutes. Often, under one minute. Finally women began speaking up about the problem that I thought was a gift. I didn't listen. Inspirational, Depressing, and Disgusting.
25-30- I finally discovered an ambiguous and unnatural thing that all my friends had been bragging to me about for years.
Standards.
With a developing set of standards, I discovered another really weird thing that my friends had been complaining about for years. Girlfriends.
This led to the creation of something I'd been hearing women talk about for years.
Feelings.
By some grace of God, I was able to date some of the most amazing, smart, athletic, and beautiful women on the planet; I fell in love, and more unbelievably, they fell madly in love with me. So naturally, in true coward fashion, when the topics of "marriage" and "forever" came up, I went running back to the only woman who would never hurt me.
Shamu.
Very, very, Depressing.
Today- I'm a born again Virgin, abstaining from sex, and marinating in a public pool of my own shame, while confessing my sins on the Internet in anticipation of a clean slate handed down to me by God. (And a lot of book sales revenue)
I wish I could say I have always maintained a strong moral code and a rock solid set a values that valued sex as something sacred and special; only to be shared with an incredible woman that I loved and wanted to be with forever.
This would insinuate that I am somewhat like my father.
To the world's dismay, I spent 25 years, nothing like my father.
I am not the slightest bit proud of my prior, less meaningful, and less romantic dealings with women. As a matter of fact, I am ashamed of some of the things I've done. Well, most of the things I've done.
I've always been careful to reserve my stories for groups of my close friends, fraternity brothers, and Marine brothers; usually in a living room the morning after a party. For years my friends have been pushing me to write my stories and sell them. I held out, until now.
I had a dream, and in it God spoke to me,
"Donny you need to hurry up and write all your funny sex stories, because me and all the Saints have been cracking up watching you the last 17 years. Even Mother Teresa thinks you're hilarious."
I said "Yes SIR," and then I woke up and started writing. I write with a clear conscience, because I've been ordained by God.
Before you read my stories, you should know a bit about why they happened, and why, despite having such upstanding parents, and such a good upbringing, I became so indecent.
The art of "hunting" as I call it, or "courting," as my parents would call it, or "picking up chicks" as most normal people would call it, has been an ongoing process that began as a distant fantasy when I was 13 years old. The instant I blew my first load by mistake on the carpet of my bedroom floor, I knew that I was going to spend a lot of time trying to convince a woman to make that happen for me.
I spent 3 years jerking myself off in every weird position imaginable, with every different type of lotion, with many different strokes, and eventually graduated to fucking the giant Shamu stuffed animal that I won at the arcade, before the mouth of a female finally touched my dick.
By the time a woman finally made contact with my dick, I felt like I had years of catching up to do. This feeling led to two things:
1) I became a chronic premature ejaculator. (Still am)
2) I approached every single minute, of every day from 16-25, as an opportunity to make up for all the years that women had NOT touched my dick.
My stories about sex, hand jobs, and blow jobs are nothing short of depressing, disgusting, and inspirational.
This is the progression of my sex life, from age 13 to 30.
13 to 16- Furious, aggressive, and frustrated dick beating on the bathroom floor; both with and without lotion and/or my finger up my own ass. Occasionally, I would fuck my Shamu stuffed animal, on a few occasions, if I was picked on by the assholes at school that day, I would cry after cumming, and then cuddle Shamu. Depressing.
16 to 17- An angel finally touched my dick. Soon after that I created a mutual oral sex agreement with a horny freshman who lived down the street. Undoubtedly one of the best relationships I've ever had. That went on for almost a year and was very healthy. Inspirational.
17to 21- I stuck my dick in absolutely anything that slightly resembled a female; so long as she had a faint heart beat and enough brain activity to mumble the words, "Do you have a condom?" or "Did you hook up with any girls in my pledge class?" I usually had my nut busted in under 5 minutes. Often, under one minute. I was not ashamed of this. Women were generally not pleased, but I always felt it was a compliment to them. Disgusting.
22 to 25- By day, sober, I had excellent and impressive taste in, and respect for, women, even by southern California standards; by night, with enough liquor, I would continue to fulfill my lust for a warm and wet hole with the likes of Jabba the Hut's wife, Gollum's sister, and other evil creatures from the depths of Mordor.
I usually had my nut busted in under 5 minutes. Often, under one minute. Finally women began speaking up about the problem that I thought was a gift. I didn't listen. Inspirational, Depressing, and Disgusting.
25-30- I finally discovered an ambiguous and unnatural thing that all my friends had been bragging to me about for years.
Standards.
With a developing set of standards, I discovered another really weird thing that my friends had been complaining about for years. Girlfriends.
This led to the creation of something I'd been hearing women talk about for years.
Feelings.
By some grace of God, I was able to date some of the most amazing, smart, athletic, and beautiful women on the planet; I fell in love, and more unbelievably, they fell madly in love with me. So naturally, in true coward fashion, when the topics of "marriage" and "forever" came up, I went running back to the only woman who would never hurt me.
Shamu.
Very, very, Depressing.
Today- I'm a born again Virgin, abstaining from sex, and marinating in a public pool of my own shame, while confessing my sins on the Internet in anticipation of a clean slate handed down to me by God. (And a lot of book sales revenue)