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Solo play

Administrator — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 17:06:45 +0000

What had started out to be just an afternoon of wandering around in
the Colorado foothills was turning out to be an experience that was
not pleasant at all. Perhaps you would understand a bit better if
I filled you in on what was going on. All of my life there has
been a burning deep inside me to seek adventure. I want to, no I
need to, find out what is over that next hill or around that next
turn in the road. If I look at a map and see all the nice freeways
and byways that are designated as “I” this and “I” that, then
boredom sets in and, yawning, I put the map away and choose some
other route. Any time I have headed out on vacation the tug of
adventure has caused me to abandon the proven route and, literally,
forced me to drive down the forbidden or undiscovered path. Oh, I
suppose there is a psychological reason for this or, perhaps, I’m
a reincarnation of some ancient explorer or, maybe, it is just born
into some people and they can’t help it. I know I can’t. I joined
the merchant marine when I was quite young, simply because I had
read somewhere these ships wandered all over the world; I wanted to
see the world. When we were in port and loading the ship, I was
like a caged tiger pacing from rail to rail and bow to stern hoping we
would get underway before I went bananas.

Chocolate Whore Beads

Administrator — Thu, 13 Dec 2007 14:20:28 +0000

With all this new knowledge, I focused my attention on sports and
stopped hitting little girls. I felt thought if someone I was competing
against in a sport hit me, I could justifiably and probably hit them
back without the threat of retaliation from a Big Brother. From the age
of 7 until I turned 16, I ran up against a whole different set of
problems, though. Not to appear boastful, but I was pretty good at
almost every sport I tried out for. I didn’t have any silly dreams of
becoming an All American. I just wanted to be good enough to make
everyone forget about Johnny Unitas, Wilt Chamberlain and Sandy Koufax.
But again, those dreaded girls came out of the woodwork. Thankfully,
they had retired their Mohammed Ali like jabs and, more importantly,
their brothers were chained up in basements, or in jail where they
belonged. The girls now began giving me these strange looks instead of
hitting me, and started to ask me to walk them home from school, like I
was some kind of bodyguard. A few even suggested we do our homework
together. Boy, these frilly little things sure were dumb. I could take
the garbage out at home by myself! I had to be told 8 or 9 dozen times,
but I certainly didn’t need their help doing it. Little did I know all
of their kindness made these girls even more dangerous. To be fair, they
weren’t this way intentionally. Anyway, this was when I enrolled in my
second extracurricular studies; ‘The Disposition of a Jealous
Boyfriend’.

Men are lazy

Administrator — Wed, 14 Nov 2007 17:13:33 +0000

Men are basically lazy. Let’s face it, who do you think invented the
remote control for the television? It was a married guy who didn’t have
any kids to change the channel. We’re also not the most patient of God’s
creatures. How many guys out there have, at one time or another, wanted
a pocket knife while trying to take your girlfriend’s or wife’s bra off?
Especially the ones with the hidden front clasps which, by the way, I
believe are also used to secure the engines to the wings of a Boeing
747. Most of us become grunting animals with a sports game on the
television in a bar too. Hell, if it weren’t for the beer and car
commercials, we’d probably piss in our pants before a televised game was
over. As it is, I’ve seen some guys do just this, only because they
didn’t want to miss any of the action.
Also, God forbid that a rational thought ever enter our head while we
have a hard-on. I’m not really sure, but I think this is the criteria
Catholic’s use to elect a new Pope. I don’t mean they pick a candidate
who can still think with a hard-on, although this in itself would be a
miracle, but that the new pontiff must be past the age of even getting a
hard-on!

Nuclear End Of World Masturbation

Administrator — Thu, 16 Aug 2007 11:44:30 +0000

She streched out, naked, across a lawn chair, high atop the
roof of the 64 story building.
This was it, the realization of all the science fiction movies
for so long, and she intended to enjoy it to max.
Her city was getting nuked.
Plain and simple. The government had given 20 minutes warning
to the public of a 90 megaton nuclear warhead headed straight to
detonate right over downtown.
Well, that was it. There was only one option to avoid getting
killed- get out of the city.
Unfortunately, a 90 megaton bomb does not just take out a
portion of a city, it takes out the entire city. Suburbs and all.
Highways were backed up for miles on end. If you were real lucky,
you might manage to get out of the city by speeding on the local
roads, but to get out of a sprawl is not as easy as it seems. 20
minutes, she suppposed, would have saved you from not coming into
the city. But it was too late for everyone else. It was about 6
minutes until it would hit right above the city. And she was
alone. Everyone was going crazy on the streets below. But not
her.
She took out a bottle of lubricant and start to massage it all
over herself. Her heart beat, as she thought of what was
happening, and what she was doing. So calm. So ironic.
Delicious irony. Delicious was the word that came to mind
when she when she saw and felt her wet pussy.
Her brown pubic hair was thick and attractive at her pubic
mesh, and naturally thining out some at her slit. As if built for
sex.
But it wasnt sex that she was interested in right now,
exactly.
She enticingly picked up some of her vaginal fluids leaking
out on her index finger and slowly sucked on it in her mouth.
Honking on the streets below. The former sounds of
construction were all gone.
She took her finger out and starting to circle around at her
breasts. Her breasts were comic book perfect, sticking out like
small cones, and jiggling when needed. The nipples were pleasantly
erect and visibly upwards. She then started the concentrate, with
both of her hands, on the hard pink nipples.
People were screaming. At the top of their lungs. Men,
women, and children, all in complete chaos. The end was near.
Pleasure, tingling up chest, making her pussy more and more
wet. She could smell, as she was laying down on the soft plastic
chair, the musky essence of her womanhood slowly dripping down on
the chair, and through the cracks onto the ground.
She lifted her head and she started to suck on her own nipple,
with the other hand flicking the hard point about on the other
breast.
Ambulance sirens. The fools. They cant fucking save anyone.
She released her head, and moved her hand down. She rubbed
her firm belly circling around her navel. Her pussy was aching
now. So close, but not yet.
The would all be fried by the radiation if the flashburn didnt
get to them.
She spread her legs out and closed them rapidly as she
increased her sexual tension. Her tits started to jiggle, bringing
her closer and closer to orgasm. Without even touching her horny
vagina.
“Bounce my fucking titties” she moaned softly as shivers went
up her spine.
Gunshot. Two. Someone blew their head off and their lover
too.
The seemed to flow thru her, as if some ultimate aphrodesiac,
her state of arousal was the highest she ever experienced.
She finally led her hand around, but not touching her hole,
her pussy. She gently patted the pubic mounds, as some erotic
dance.
A child, screaming from a window 9 stories down. A mother had
killed herself by flinging herself out the window.
“Oh yes scream baby scream is your mama dead would you like to
fuck me instead”. Scream baby scream the agonizing pain of some
child innocent of the the world, shock and angst as his end would
come soon too.
Ecstacy.
Her hand was covered in moist vaginal fluid. It was the end
of the world as was known.
And she felt fine.
She stuck her first finger in her clit. Beyond words. The
second went in and finally the third in her hot, tight and wet
pussy.
Rapid automatic fire. Over and over. Screams not of
humanity.
“Yes, yes, fuck you all SCREAM! AAAAAOOOOOOOOHH…….” She
felt the flood of emotions and pleasure pain fuck as she began to
masturbate and move her fingers up and down the lubricated walls of
her vagina.
The noises became all engulfing. There was no peace. There
was just chaos. Climactic. Faster. Faster. Harder her pussy was
almost there as she saw humanity the fucking universe at its common
denominator. Entropy. Entropy and Ecstacy. Orgasmic.
She was at the verge of orgasm. Faster harder she felt
burning and the sounds of manmade disorder was overcome with the
rumbling that seemed like an eternity.
She orgasmed as she was fully unleashed and burning, blinded
by light screaming and one with the universe so hot and vibrant.
The last millisecond came the final climax of an ultimate
expression of herself sexuality and mankind duality. She lost
herself as she became one with the energy of her pussy. The energy
of sexuality. Never to come back as she was fused into the ground
by the radiant energy of the nuclear bomb blast.