My First and Last Circle Jerk

My first circle jerk was with this girl named Karen I knew from mutual friends. She had just turned 18 and was ripe and ready as they say. Blonde hair and blue eyes which is usually not my type but she was hot. Perfect tits as far as I could tell before I saw her naked. Great ass and legs. I wanted to fuck her so bad that night.

It started as a joke with me and my friend Mike. We asked Karen if she’d come back to my place and we’d have a circle jerk with her. She was nave and asked us what that meant. We explained that basically we wanted to get a group of guys and jerk off looking at her as she took off her clothes and posed for us. She agreed. I was surprised and wasn’t sure if she’s actually follow through with it but we got her back to my house with 3 other guys. Bill, Jason and my room mate John. So, now there were 5 guys and Karen arriving at my apartment.

Karen was a little shy at first but warmed up to us pretty fast. She was earing a white dress and tan pantyhose and heels. I have a thing for pantyhose so I was already rock hard for her. I sat on my couch next to in between Mike and John. Bill and Jason were on the other side of the room in chairs. I was the first to unzip my ants and pull my cock out. I was already pre-cumming. One by one the rest of the guys pulled out their cocks and when it got to Jason we all noticed how huge his dick was. It must have been 13” or more. I thought I was big with my mere 9” cock. Everyone lese seemed ot have smaller cocks but we didn’t look at each other’s cocks for long. There was someone much prettier and sexier laying on the floor in front of us.

“Move around a little” I told Karen.

She laid there kind of limp but it still turned me on. She was still fully clothed and loved looking at her. I continued to stroke my cock slowly. I wanted to enjoy this event for as long as I could.

“Lift up your dress a little bit, hon. Let me see those sexy legs.” I told her.

“Do you like my body?” she asked.

We all kind of nodded and continued our business. It was my first time doing anything like this and I was really getting into it.

“Run your hands up and down your legs, Karen.” I said.

She did.

“Can I take my dress off now?” she finally asked.

“Yes. Take it off.” Someone else answered. I can’t remember who it was.

She stood up and lifted her dress up over her pantyhose covered legs with her back to us revealing her ass covered in nylon. Then up her back and over her shoulders and off it came. She turned around and was wearing a white bra enclosing her size c tits. Amazing.

I wanted to fuck her. I wanted her to suck my dick. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to touch her. For some reason jerking off looking at her was more of a turn on for me at the moment. So, I kept on jerking off.

“Bend over. Let me see that nice ass of yours.” I said.

She did. She wasn’t real sure of what to do but she took orders real well. She posed for while in her pantyhose and bra and eventually took them off when I told her to. Then there she was. Completely exposed. She looked fantastic. She showed us her super pink pussy with blond pubes surrounding it. She was a natural blond I thought to myself.

“Do you like this? Are you getting turned on?” I asked.

“Yes. I’m wet down there.” She pointed to her pretty little pussy.

By this time I was jerking my cock off so fast and almost ready to cum.

“Want me to cum for you?” I asked.

She smiled and nodded a yes.

I grabbed her pantyhose off of the floor and wrapped then around my cock and stroked it for all it was worth. I shot my cum in her pantyhose within seconds.

“I’m cumming!” I yelled.

I did.

Everyone else followed in order cumming in their hands. For some reason no one came on Karen. I guess it was a polite circle jerk. I wiped myself clean on her pantyhose. Everyone else found tissues except for Mike. He was the smart ass of the group. He grabbed Jason’s boxer shorts and wiped his cum on them. We all laughed. Jason didn’t seem to care at this point. I think Mike did it because he was jealous of Jason’s huge cock.

It was a little uncomfortable as we all cleaned up and zipped up and Karen got dressed. She put the pantyhose on with my cum on them and didn’t mind it. I figured she liked it. Everyone left soon after it was done because we didn’t know what to say or talk about after our first circle jerk. John, my room mate went into is bedroom and it was just me and Karen left.

She told me she enjoyed what we did. She had a good time. I told her it was one of the biggest turn ons for me. I also told her how cool I thought she was for participating in such an unusual event.

I invited her to sleep over and she didn’t have to be anywhere and said yes. We curled up next to each other in my bed and started kissing her neck.

“Are you coming on to me?” she asked.

“Yes. Do have a problem with that?”

“No I like it. I just wanted to make sure.”

She was so innocent and I may have corrupted her. I figured I might as well take it all of the way now. I did. We did but that’s another story.

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Younger Years Part I

These little ditties may jump around but will always be within a five to eight year span, during my youngers years.

Ok, I’m going to start somewhere at the beginning.

I think it was the early 70’s I was around 14 or 15 years of age, a good reference point was that she bought us tickets to the Eagles Hotel California and Jimmy Buffet Concert (you do the math).  I could feel my sexuality growing every day, but had never gone ALL THE WAY, if you know what I mean;  You know having an orgasm.  But I did know that my clit was a pleasure point.

Well, one summer we had moved from one state to another state and I went back to visit my little girl friend.  I don’t really know how it happened but, she had this electric shaving/beauty kit (for young girls), the lady bug kit I think the name was.  Anyway, I was in her bedroom alone with the shaving kit using it doing something and the electric vibrating sound just turned me on, so I attached a soft piece to the end (maybe to massage your finger nails with)??? and put it against my pussy on the outside of my panties, OHHHHHH, it felt SOOOOO good, of course it wasn’t two seconds later I was having my first orgasm!  You better believe I asked for a lady bug beautykit for Chrismas that year.

So, there you have it.  I was on my way to being an extremely sexual creature.  From then on, growing up I experienced with just about everything I could find around the house to manipulate myself with.  Of course they were inanimate objects, some better than others.  Mostly as a younger girl, I found that I could have an orgasm with something electric or with water, hmmmm.  Now that is a good thought, water on my pussy, water on my titties.It was not until I got much older that I was able to have an orgasm using my hand. We have a swiming pool and even when sex is not on my mind, as soon as I get into that water my pussy starts to throb and my titties get hard.  I really have to calm myself down so that I can just enjoy swimming. Ha Ha!

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3:30

It is almost 3:30 in the morning

and I can’t sleep.

I need some pussy to relax me.

I need that pink wet hole to sit on my face

and let my tongue lick it in the right place.

The place that makes her moan

and shake.

Pussy is what I need

that is why I’m still awake.

I need that pussy to ride my dick until sunrise.

Or at least until I shut my eyes.

It is a little pass 3:30 and I’m still not a sleep.

Pussy!

Pusssy!

Pussy is what I need.

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"Sinhalese Buddhist Patriots. Rape 28strawberry girl" - Patali Champika Ranwaka.

“This woman-blogger, in her blog titled 28strawberrygirl’s blog, has been openly talking about sex. How unashamed this woman can be? The title of her latest post is ‘open minded = spread legs’. See how vulger that is. In it she writes about how she had a one night stand with a random non-sinhalese-buddhist man. Is this what they call free speech? My sinhales-buddhist ASS”…. MP Ranawaka went on to say “this woman is a part of the western, judeo-christian, imperialistic conspiracy to culturally enslave us all. For them, democracy is the right to have sex with anybody and everybody and say everything obscene to anybody and everybody. How can we keep our eyes shut to this catastrophe? How can we watch and do nothing while they rape our great sinhales buddhist culture? All patriots, this is the time to act. I demand you all to find this whore 28strawberrygirl and strip off her clothes in public and patriotically rape her in a true Sinhalese Buddhist style. We shall not stand those strawberry, pussy-shaven, pierced-nippled, colombo hookers.”

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Team Love

It’s an awful thing, having a boyfriend. You pick one out to deter you from the rest of the assholes out there and for the sake of self-worth and sanity but in the end, it can be as debasing. They’ll smash you up against a wall then run to get a bag of frozen peas for your knee but then again if it’s better than the last guy who screamed at you on the drive home and made you almost break your ankle cos he let you alone to climb over a six-foot gate, drunk, you’re moving up in the world, must be. Love is a fickle thing and it gets uglier when you start to hate the ones you’re meant to love when really, you don’t hate them as much as you subconsciously hate how they make you feel. How the gut-wrenching feelings you’re feeling have been twisted by their unruly hands like a titty twister with accompanying background laughter. The truth is it’s really easy to like almost anyone for who they are. In our gallivanting youths we do what we can to not fall in love with our food. Then by the time we get too hungry, we marry. Love is the answer to keep ourselves from starvation. But not everyone wants to get fat on love. Couples do. They choose to gain weight together.

Nevertheless today was a fine day for us both. My boy is a good man. They all are when they’re ready to be. And the ones that aren’t will be good when their time is right, maybe not for you but for someone else. When life has caught up with them and they can finally learn to see the beauty in you because it takes them a while to learn what it looks like. It’s a frightening thing to stare into the eyes of that thing we’ve been looking for all this while. Especially when you never knew that it’s what you’ve been looking for your whole life because you thought all this while it was pussy.

I have eight weeks left before I have to hop onto that plane and leave Australia pretty much forever, leaving this poor boy here with it. In that time I hope to have my heart broken to smithereens for the fourth time in my life. That way I’ll know that I really did love him. Even if for just a  year. If you take one for character building, you take one for the team. Go team.

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death|coming

I marvel daily at my own narcissism.  I have read others’ entries and wonder how it is they could be so altruistic in their writing, when all I can think about is myself.  My reaction to things.  How my pussy feels about this.  What gets me wet.  They are far better human beings than I.

“We’re surrounded by sadness, it’s all around, how can I be exempt?  Immune? You always have to pay the bill, for knowledge or pleasure, and I don’t think I can afford the bill that’s coming.” — The Thought Gang, Tibor Fischer.  Not a lot of soul in this book, but quite a lot of sound and furry – said the prof.  The motherfucker can write, soul or not. 

The character who said this, was one who had everything.  Beautiful, brilliant, rich, “his effect on women was so extraordinary, you couldn’t even be jealous.”  He offed himself because he believed that no man could have happiness forever.  No man could be so fortunate, or make it so long, without being unhappy.  He had, then killed himself because he couldn’t afford the bill that was coming to him after so much fortune. 

Reading and thinking about death and suicide does funny things to a person.  Usually, under high-stress situations, papers due, no time to waste, mental exhaustion, the only thing I can think to do is jerk off.  Drop everything, and put my hand down my pants.  Mental overstimulation does it to me too.  Lame porn, even the most crass, given enough of it, clockwork orange style, will also produce said effect.  Apparently, suicidal tendencies will also do it.  Like right now.  The transmission of words on a page about paying life’s bill, the stimulation of multiple suicides on the pages of a book, the contemplative exercises of how not to fuck up one’s own snuffing… makes me want to stop/drop/and roll without panties. 

Maybe that’s why existentialism is a popular philosophical realm.  Death comes to us all.  And we want to find meaning before the big curtain drops.  But we can’t.  We don’t know.  And supposedly, we would know if we died.  The kicker is no one who has ever found out the answer has been able to tell anyone else, because, well, they’re dead.    There’s no slipping of notes to friends, no cards under doorways, no phone call from the beyond.  And it’s probably incomprehensible anyway – kind of like explaining quantum mechanics to a slug. 

I feel like said slug, reading books written by far smarter people, rubbing elbows with those who can out-think, out-run, out-do me at every turn, hoping for some cosmic rubbing off of their shining glory.  What good does it do me, really?  I am still a lazy, good for nothing, sort-of academic who hasn’t achieved much.  Thus the suicidal thoughts.  At least I’ve discovered another way to get off in the process.

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