His balls grew heavy like some Kentucky storm clouds.
For whatever reason that phrase has been repeating itself in my head. If anyone out there is writing a smutty, cheap, dime store romance novel, you can use that line. I won’t charge you for it.
Giving a hand job is a delicate art form.
I’ve found a girl with big hands usually give good ones, however it has a strange quasi homo-erotic feel to it after the sensation leaves both heads.
Girls with small hands are downright useless and leave you feeling like a pederast.
Despite my old roommate dan’s assessment that “at least it’s not your hand” I prefer being a do-it yourself kinda guy and I’ll just bypass all the potential awkawrdness altogether. I know how I like it and I’ve been doing it for half my life. As Joe Rogan says, “What makes you think you’re going to be better at that than I am?” Referring to when a woman “compromises” head for a hand-job.
There used to be a defeated feeling when I left the bar and went home to “BEat it” but its something I kind of look forward to now.
I always felt guilty about it as a kid because no one bothered to tell me it was natural. Every one lied about not doing it in high school and it wasn’t until my senior year in high school that people openly admitted to doing so. Still there is a slight nagging suspicion that its a bit homosexual because ultimately it is a guy’s hand on your package (another reason why I couldn’t understand guys who’d say they’d give themselves head if they could because still you’re sucking dick–and gang bang porn is to me just gay porn with a girl added).
Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Nothing is wrong with homosexuality. and nothing is certainly wrong with masturbation.
It keeps me out of trouble, keeps me from engaging in inane conversations with superficial, or idiotic women. It keeps me from hurting women’s feelings because I may or may not have “used” them.
It strengthens my imagination. I don’t have to put up with no lip, I can have it any way I want with certain women, no awkward goodbyes,no downside whatsoever, no stds, no fuss no muss, and easy to clean up.
Even talking on the phone with women can be a chore to me. Thank God for cell phones. At least now you can hang up on people and blame it on network, or your battery dying. Except one lady caught on to me, she figured out that these “mishaps” seemed to happen at around the same time every night.
Right after I busted a nut.
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