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27 July 2007, 00:20
Two years or so ago now, I moved from the back end of beyond to the big city, and got a chance to see what it had to offer without having to worry about where I was going to sleep that night or how I was going to get home.
Perhaps unfortunately, given the context, one of the things it had to offer was a copious quantity of uppers, downers, and psychadelics of nearly every kind.
It just so happened that when one particular club night kicked out, I wasn't going home alone. A friend of mine and an all-round kindly soul (who has indeed read this) kindly volunteered to give me a lift back, considering I'd been flirting for all I was worth for most of the night. While normally I can be reserved and rather aloof, the copious quantities of amphetamine in my system had made me extremely horny and given me an extra boost of confidence to do something about it. In other words, everything was going swimmingly.
That is, until we got home. I'm duly peeled out of my PVC and corsetry and I've removed my makeup (no matter how intoxicated, a goth can always get out of his makeup and costume unaided. I would put this down as one of the mysteries of life if it weren't so bloody uncomfortable to try to pass out in fetishwear) before I became aware of one particular side-effect that I'd temporarily forgotten about. Not to put too fine a point on it, my genitalia were beyond the sight of even most medical imaging systems. In other words, while the spirit was willing, the flesh had failed me in catastrophic style.
When she'd finished laughing hysterically and pointing at my shrivelled gonads (s'ok, I was too) she looked me straight in the eye and said, 'Elvis... has most definately left the building.' while pointing at it some more. If such a thing was even possible, I'd swear stage fright caused it to retract even further into my abdomen.
After a brief attempt to breathe some life into the poor little thing, it became quite clear that it was even beyond the reach of mouth-to-mouth recusitation. To butcher the Pythons, it was an ex-penis. Once it became clear that ol' one-eye was not going to be taken to the optometrist and the rest of me was in far too fragile a state to be good for anything, the mood was rendered quite thoroughly extinct.
This then became public knowledge, and for the next three months or so, people greeted me with a 'thankyou, thankyouverrmuch' when I entered a room.
Another substance-induced tale of bad sex. No sex at all, to be exact.
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Zane & Thomas are on a mission for the hottest pussy. They fullfill their mission when they find a kitty looking for some lunch. Zane showed her his huge footlong & lunch is served! She begged for more but could barely take it! See Kitty lick the cum off her first huge cock! |
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