As i was walking out of a party tonight I witness a man punching a women in the face.
I laid that fucking asshole out.
I’ll probably have some bruises on my knuckles but it was worth it.
A man never raises his hand to a women in violence, if I see it i will end you.
That is my duty as a man.
That is your duty as a man too.
We are men.
We do what we must.
I am so hung over.
Wooo St. Pattys day!
Story coming soon.
I think differently.
I equate experiences with action in my head. For example sometimes when I have sex I think of it as if I was boxing.
Sex is a battle, you’re both trying to out last and impress the other. You know one of you is going to go down first but you want to make sure you at least can prove yourself as a contender first. You pull out all your fanciest moves and hold nothing back. You give it your all and hope you impress.
Thats not something I create later. Thats my train of though while in the act.
Sometimes when I’m at a party or an EDM show I think I’m in a jungle, and I tailor my movements and actions as if I actually were.
Its strange but thats how I think.
When I think about my life, I have a tendency to think of it as if it were some grand quest. I dodge arrows and save princesses, but I never stop moving forward. I’m searching for something, hunting for the grail, but I have no idea where it is or how to find it.
I want a girlfriend, I really do. Its just really hard for me to find a girl I know I could stay with. I know the quest will always call me back, but I wish it didn’t.
Right now I’m thinking about it in terms of wanting to be dragged down to the bottom of the ocean by chains.
Its scary, but its also comforting in a way.
I just keep questing, moving from castle to castle, each new place is a new land to explore, each girl’s bed I sleep in is an Inn to stay in for the night. But it’s sadly never where I can stay for long.
I see glimpses, girls I think I can be with and be happy with. But they never stay, usually I can never even get close to them, let alone their beds. Its like some mystical hand intervenes and says;
I’m sorry Mario, but your princess is in another castle.
P.S. If you guys read my blog I’d love if you just drop a comment. I wanna hear from the people that read me. Do you like sex stories, personal stories, a mix of both? What do you wanna know. I got tons of stories and lots of thoughts. Thanks!
I hooked up with the cane girl from before again tonight.
She decided that recently she’d been to nice to my and that I needed to be punished for once.
Ut-oh.
Sometime about the blind curiosity in me allows for me to go along with these things.
She stripped my naked and made me lay down on the bed with my hands on the head board.
Next thing I know this girl is whipping my ass with a loop of iPod cable. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Five whacks. Also my eyes had to be closed the entire time.
Then she asks if I have a condom. I turn my head to tell her about the one in my coat when all of a sudden she’s grabbing my face scolding me for opening my eyes.
Oh lord how do I get myself into this?
OW. OW. OW. OW. OW.
Five more lashes for looking.
My ass is so red and marked up right now.
I have class tomorrow at 10.
Its 3:39 AM.
I’m awake, I’m horny and I’m alone.
I just got back from a rave/EDM show. It was awesome. Never heard of the DJ’s but I don’t really care about whose playing 9/10th of the times anyway. Spend the night dancing and hooking up with this cute blond girl.
The problem is, she’s from Maryland.
Or so she says.
Thats the problem with shows like that. You can go, meet someone, form a really close connection with them and then find out that they’re actually a high school kid from another state. Or maybe they just so happen to go to your school and are DOWN to CLOWN.
Ya never know.
You roll the dice.
Pull the trigger.
Buy the ticket, take the ride.
Lets see what happens is my motto.
WordPress needs to stop deleting my posts or losing my draft or whatever they’re doing.
I wrote a long post about the first time I couldn’t have an erection and I fucking lost the post.
God damn it.
I have never had a girl hesitate to kiss me after I went down on her. Actually I’ve literally had girls be pressing my face into them and then yank me up by my hair to make out with me.
Never been an issue on that end.
The other way around however isn’t quite the same.
For the majority of men at least. Me? I don’t have a problem kissing a girl while she’s blowing me. Its kinda fun to switch around and play and fumble with foreplay.
Once I cum thats a different story though. I don’t think its rude to offer a drink of water or alcohol before we lock lips again. Usually they’re grateful for that.
But as for pre-cum making out, I’ve surprised multiple girls by pulling them up to make out. Several times I’ve gotten the wide-eyed, “Did I do something wrong?” or “Are you ok?”. I guess college girls are conditioned at this point that once a blow job starts it either keeps going till it ends or turns into fucking.
Where is the fun in ending things so quickly?
Damn it! Kiss me before I cum!
Tried to ask the girl of my dreams out.
She literally told me I’m friend zoned.
Someone bring me a strong drink and some tall sluts.
Its gonna be a wild weekend.
I went to Diplo last sunday. My one friend got sick and line and my other friend took her home. I was rolling pretty hard so I couldn’t even consider going home to sit in my apartment. I would’ve freaked out.
I needed to dance. Badly.
I wasn’t expecting what was to come.
Usually when I go to shows, I dance with girls all night. I usually make out and have a crazy time.
I didn’t really do any of that. This crowd was super weird.
I just wandered around for several hours in a weird stupor. Maybe it was just me, but it seemed so odd.
I wish I’d found another Dubstep goddess.
Maybe next time.
I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long.
I wrote a post over my winter break about hooking up with one of my best friends but word press deleted the draft and I decided the story didn’t warrant a rewrite. But I’m back, and oh baby have I got some stories from my first back at college.
Lets start with Katy.
I met Katy last friday night while I was bar tending a college party. She was one of the first people there and her and her two friends were hanging out in my bar room, just chilling. To me she just looked like a really short hipster.
She had the tell tale signs of glasses, big coat, back pack and big hat that always symbolizes hipsters at parties. You can always spot them because they stand out like sore thumbs compared to the girls in miniskirts and little black dresses. But she was cute, she kinda looked like a tiny Ellen Page.
We talked a bit and she seemed pretty cool. I told her to find me on Facebook.
I pretty much lost track of her after that due to having to bartend and deal with the drunks. When I woke up the next morning I found a friend requesting waiting from her.
This story is about to get real weird, real fast.
We immediately started talking and it turned out she had just moved into my building (Praise the lord I thought!). Well she tells me I should come down and “cuddle with her”. Whoa, that was fast.
Now I’m a horny guy and often I let my dick get in the way of my mind.
Of course I agreed.
So I went down, the first thing I noticed was that her peep hole was at about my belly button. I knocked on the door and she answered, and she was much shorter than I remembered. Turns out she has the handicapped single room.
I mean, like half my size.
Whatever, I like short girls.
So we’re chilling and talking and she started telling me stuff about how she has Palsy in her leg but it wasn’t a big deal. And how she used to sell molly and regularly does .7 of the stuff.
Keep in mind I am 200 lb and have a powerful time on .5
But still for some reason this didn’t seem to phase me. She seemed totally nonchalant about everything. She talked about guys she used to fuck years ago and I thought it was kinda refreshing to hear a girl just talk openly. I just nodded and thought about wrapping myself around her tight little body.
Eventually we go to her room and start making out. She climbs on top of me and asks me, “How many girls have you fucked”
Uhhhh… what? Ok… I guess its a fair question. I understand asking that question before casual sex with a stranger. Might as well.
But in my usual coy manner I make her tell me first.
“I stopped counting at 30… last year”
Wut.
She’s like 20.
How the hell do you fuck like 50 guys in like two years?
Because heres the thing, by this point I had literally received her ENTIRE FUCKING (alleged) RELATIONSHIP HISTORY.
Here is a brief rundown;
-Dated a guy in high school for 4 years, got engaged.
-Dated a satanist in high school, drank her blood
-Dated a porn star in Brooklyn
-Dated a man with a beautiful soul that died in a car crash while she was in the car
-Dated the largest drug dealer in the Philadelphia Rave scene
-Dated a genius frat bro biochem major
-Dated another dude who’s now married.
And still found time to fuck another 40 guys travel to over 50 different countries by herself, and also while having leukemia, palsy and Parkinson’s. Come on. At the very least I got the impression she could fuck and leave it at that. Thats all I need to hear.
COME ON.
Seriously?
She just kept talking. She wouldn’t stop.
Of course I still fucked her.
Twice! I already had my shirt off and I figured I put up with it this long I might as well go with it. Although honestly, it wasn’t until that after sex clarity that I really began to realize how much everything she was saying was utter bullshit. She really started talking after we fucked.
I should say though, don’t get me wrong. The sex was fantastic. It was all biting, hair pulling, scratching and moaning. Really great sex.
Then once we were finished it was all, I’ve been to 50 countries, I spent two months in the hospital… blah blah blah blah.
I said goodbye and left. She said she wanted to fuck again.
That night she texted me asking if I could come cuddle. I told her I was busy. She texted me saying she had a seizure and a stroke at a rave and had to go to the hospital. I told her to feel better. At the time I wasn’t doubting the medical stuff. She clearly had a handicapped room for a reason. And one of her legs was like half the size of the other (as in the calf muscle) so she clearly had some leg issues to.
The next day she said she was sore and wanted someone to cuddle with. Whatever. I went down.
The first thing I thought was, why would they let you out of the hospital if you had just had a stroke and a seizure? They keep you over night if you get a bump on the head…
But my curiosity got the better of me and I played along.
You see readers, this isn’t my first experience with a compulsive liar and a manipulator. I was used by a girl with another really rare disease (what is it with sick girls and lying?) to spy on my best friend who she was kinda dating.
She was super hot also.
This first girl did everything she could to keep me around. She even told me she had leukemia and was dying. She’d talk to me on the phone for hours just to work the conversation back to my friend. The day he finally dumped her she never spoke to him again.
I’ve been on guard ever sense.
(NEW DEVELOPMENT: She just texted me as I’m writing this, apologizing for yesterday, which we’ll get to. WEIRD!)
So anyway she continues to not shut up so we fuck and then she lays the biggest lie of all on me. She’s telling me about living for a germany for a month and I ask her how she affords to travel, is her family rich? No, she says, she personally is.
Uh-huh… how?
“Remember that blind guy I read to in the hospital?” (previous bullshit story)
Yeah
“He left me everything, he had no one but me”
Oh? How much?
“22”
22 what?
“22 Million”
Bull-Shit. She goes on to say she doesn’t want the money and she’s going to give it all away to the parents of a boy who died of cancer because they deserve happiness. She’s going to give it away “as soon as she can”. She’s 20, she can give it now. I make a joke about a massive tax bill. She says she knows ways around taxes. (Biggest lie of all. No one can avoid taxes).
We talk about this for a bit, I make a bunch of vague comments and then she asks me what I’m thinking. I tell her she’s not gonna like it. She persists. I tell her that I’m thinking that I don’t really believe what she’s saying.
She flips out, get all emotional, tells me she opened up to me and goes off on this long story about how the boy she loved died in a car crash and blah blah blah.
She’s just telling me whatever she can to distract me.
She tells me to leave.
I walk out whistling. Go back to my room and creep her Facebook when I find pictures that discredit her entire pack of stories.
I saw her ex boyfriend. Not a porn star or drug dealer. A 5 foot asian kid.
HAHAHAHAHA
About 6 hours later she texts me asking if I can come down so we can talk.
Ok, I think, maybe she’ll finally give me some truth. So I head down. She makes me lay in her bed and then she just proceeds to fucking talk. Just more fucking bullshit. Talks about how special I am and how I’m not like anyone else (Oh god. Oh god no. RUN BOY RUN!).
I was just sick of hearing it. So after 15 min and her not bringing up the fight we had had several hours earlier I just got up in left.
She sent me some bitchy texts about how I’m intimidated by her and her ability to look right through me and how she’s defensive because her last boyfriend broke her nose for the third time to “put her in her place” and she’s not gonna text me anymore so this is goodbye… blah blah blah.
She just texted me.
Saying more pointless shit.
Jesus christ what have I gotten myself into?
Why do I always follow my dick?
I think she might kill me.
Help.
Sexadelphia 