"Find it?" she said. "Yeah, I think I got it." I replied. "No, you don't! That's the wrong hole!" she painfully exclaimed.
"Wrong whole?" I curiously wondered.
"Here give it to me." she said, as she grabbed my rod like a stick shift and steered it in the right direction.
"Oh Jesus, that feels great," I muttered to myself.
She softly whispered in my ear, "Make sure you pull out when you're going to finish."
I thought to myself, "Pull out? I never want to leave this fucking thing!"
I began to thrust....in and out and in and out. But then suddenly, in the blink of an eye, it was go time. I quickly pulled out and BLAMO! A pearl necklace with the earrings to match. (Back then I made it rain.)
The sex lasted for what seemed like only seconds. I'm guessing that can be attributed to the fact that it did only last for seconds. Roughly, forty seven life changing ticks. Which is only a few seconds less than it would take an elite athlete to sprint a quarter mile. Suck on that, Steve Prefontaine!
After taking a few deep breaths, I tossed the dame a fizz rag and I lit a victory cigar. I then nakedly waddled, boner and all, to the bathroom to take a piss. It felt good.
When I returned to the room I noticed her eyes were filled with tears. "Why are you crying?" I asked. "Because we didn't use a condom! I don't want to get pregnant!" she replied.
She made a good point; one that had previously not crossed my mind. I began to cry.
After thirty minutes of crying and consoling, we both swore never to have sex without a prophylactic ever again. We hoped and prayed that God would spare us from having a child at age 17. After all, no one wants to be that pregnant girl in 3rd period gym class who can't participate in dodge ball for fear that her little mistake might get brain damage.
Ten short minutes after we vowed to never have foolish unprotected sex again, we began having foolish unprotected sex again...... Although my eyes were still red and stinging from the tears, sheer joy was once again plastered all over my face. Two minutes later, I pull out and I drizzle cum once more. Superstar.
We cry again.
And scene.
I chose to share this intimate story with you today, because a few short weeks ago marked the 10 year anniversary of the night that I lost my virginity. In the 10 years since, a lot has changed. I no longer cum from a stiff breeze, I've long since stopped weeping after unprotected sex and I actually have grown to enjoy cunnilingus (Unless, of course, the Jane's vagina omits a corrosive acid or foul stench). And it's been sometime since we spoke, but the girl who took my virginity now lives with her boyfriend of many years in his parent's house. I sense she cries about that these days.
Now I can't recall every sexual encounter I've had in my life; there have been plenty and 73% of them have been drunken blurs. But that night, that faithful fucking night, will forever be etched in my mind as the day I became a man. That's why, to commemorate this momentous occasion, I found a talented young artist in upstate New York and had him create a bust of my penis. I gave him no instructions. I simply told him to make me something magnificent.
Upon returning to his workshop a few weeks later, I was rendered speechless and struck with awe by what he had unveiled. He created a life size, cock-shaped paperweight made from pure gold. I have to admit, and not because I was looking at my own solid gold cock, it was glorious. This modern day Michelangelo believed that no freckle was too small and no stone would be left unturned. From the tip of the shaft right down to the taint line --the craftsmanship and accuracy of this phallic is remarkable. It is truly a spectacular memento (trophy) that belongs on every man's mantle.
That's all for now.....I hope your Friday touches little boys.
Lustfully,
Waffles
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