Jacking-Off Log

[Luna_Wolf72]

It's all to do with ineffable flows in the orgone layer. A butterfly masturbates in Hong Kong and it's sexual feast in LA and famine in NYC.

*makes a vague gesture with hands in the air*

The point, Oh Wise One, is that I am suffering the depths of despair and missing major pieces of depravity simply because my cunt has decided to give up on O's. If I could but find that friggin butterfly, I would rip off it's wings.

 

[bisexplicit]

Disgusting thoughts. Things that make me question my own brain:

A humiliated 20-something-year old made to dress up like a child. Protesting the whole time that she wasn't a little girl, and that this was ridiculous. The pouting brattiness making her seem like a spoiled girl even more, and he made sure to tell her so.

Her mother being drawn in. Forced in, blackmailed, somehow. Her daughter sucking on her sagging tits, like a baby. The cruel man directing it all, laughing. Enjoying both of their humiliation.

The mother's legs spread, a baby bottle shoved backwards inside her cunt, the nipple of it sticking out, and her daughter suckling milk from out of it. The daughter's bib on, so none of the milk spills on to her breasts. The man's cock out, jacking it, calling them all sorts of filthy names; incestious sluts. Tears in the mother's eyes.

I came with those images in my head. I deserve to feel guilty about my orgasms.

 

[MechaBlade]

Disgusting thoughts. Things that make me question my own brain:

A humiliated 20-something-year old made to dress up like a child. Protesting the whole time that she wasn't a little girl, and that this was ridiculous. The pouting brattiness making her seem like a spoiled girl even more, and he made sure to tell her so.

Her mother being drawn in. Forced in, blackmailed, somehow. Her daughter sucking on her sagging tits, like a baby. The cruel man directing it all, laughing. Enjoying both of their humiliation.

The mother's legs spread, a baby bottle shoved backwards inside her cunt, the nipple of it sticking out, and her daughter suckling milk from out of it. The daughter's bib on, so none of the milk spills on to her breasts. The man's cock out, jacking it, calling them all sorts of filthy names; incestious sluts. Tears in the mother's eyes.

I came with those images in my head. I deserve to feel guilty about my orgasms.

I want to fuck your brain and have you suck the cum out.

 

[rosco rathbone]

Day 5

At this point, I have to keep my hands off my tool. I keep wanting to kneed and stroke it. It is jumpy and sensitive; wanting to go off half-cocked. All day I'm walking around with a flexible and murderous hose in my pants. The problem is, if I start playing with it, even just squeezing it or holding onto it, I get a painful pressure backup in my system.

Usually, I don't push these moratoriums past five days. We'll see what happens.

I had an odd sort of fantasy about acting as personal trainer to a girl with perfect asscheeks who was wearing nothing but a gstring. I have her on her stomach, doing reverse leg-lifts. Then she kind of collapses, exhausted and sweaty. I pull down my pants and climb onto her rear end, pushing the gstring out of the way. She has an exasperated "not this again" expression on her face, but she's too tired to push me off or resist. I start humping away, lost in my private world of pleasure, while she lies there, joggling back and forth against the floor with my strokes, the breath getting compressed out of her lungs in rhythmic pants by my body weight, rolling her eyes as if to say"for fuck's sake just get this over with so I can go take a shower" .

I wasn't even jacking when I thought of this, but I have enough chi stored that I can masturbate mentally.

 

[bridgeburner]

I spend a lot of time in mental masturbation.

 

[Marquis]

I miss mental masturbation.

There was allusion, made earlier, to masturbatory refrain being child's play in comparison to the difficulties of retaining seed amidst greater temptation.

I was flattered by these remarks, but I think perhaps some further illustration of my challenges is worthwhile.

I do this not to brag or boast, but rather because I hope that on some level, the uniqueness of my circumstances could be taken into account in a fair way. My frustrations are no different than any other man, only my circumstances.

Take, for example, just last week.

I get a late night call from a drunken homosexual that I originally contracted a relationship with on the purported grounds of working out together, at the gym, building the muscular physique. It was rather obvious, early on, that his intentions and mine were not the same, but it was nice to have a work out buddy nonetheless.

In any case, he called me up, telling me he would like to come over, he had a loose woman with him that he thought I might enjoy. I welcomed him, verily.

Kudos to my white girlfriend for her selfless photography.

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2136/2478169079_f9228d4731.jpg

Here is the girl in question. As you can plainly see, she is intoxicated, intimidated, emotionally damaged, intellectually stunted and perhaps a little hard on her luck.

She explains that she is a lingerie model, stripper and very proud to have produced some heavily downloaded pornographic mpegs.

Obviously, I see a lot of potential here.

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3140/2478168955_bba4d5c7bf.jpg

Here I am, explaining to her the awesome possibilities in her future, and the incredible opportunity she has serendipitously stumbled upon.

My white girlfriend pours us a drink, and we toast to love, life and success.

The future is always exciting, and this evening was no exception. Yet, somehow I found my new friend somewhat cool to my advances. Befuddled by her lack of ambition, I was saved by my white girlfriend's suggestion that we capture the beauty of the moment with a few photographs, in the bedroom.

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2226/2478980232_2581a8a512.jpg

Here, you can see me staring lustfully into my favorite piece of the woman puzzle, the shithole.

But alas, penetration of the new anus was not to be on the menu that evening.

Why, you ask?

How is it that one could come so close, but be so far from cumming?

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3249/2478980174_3c99d70d52.jpg

Because sex is a performance art to young women, and there I am, thinking myself a G, too fucking stupid to know it and too naive and stupid to know what to do with it if I did.


End Scene 1

 

[Marquis]

That was a frustrating night, but the hands of time move ever forward.

Sometime after that incident, but before the next one, my white girlfriend's good friend comes over for..... friendship?

I don't know why she is here.

She looks like a female to me, so I assume she is here for the sexing of me.

Yet again, there is a difference of opinion.

Luckily, I am a Dominant Male, skilled in the arts of BDSM.

I suggest she experience the sensational wonder of glass fucking suction cups on her, as an excuse for getting her naked, an excuse as thin as the air in space.

She removed her clothes, and I feel that all my time at BDSM conventions and the like, has been time well spent.

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2066/2478169471_a62b881865.jpg

This is her body, as seen from the angle of a would-be anal penetrator.

Not bad, really.

I've had better, but I'm horny, and this will do for now.

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3030/2478169267_821d405a55.jpg

And yet again, I am rebuffed!

Curiouser and curiouser. Who is this young lady? What business does she have here? On what basis does she believe she has the right to deny me, a healthy and virile young man, looming over her nude body.

Am I so powerless to be unable to close this deal? My white girlfriend has signed for her, I need merely dot the i's, and the pen crumbles in my hand.

I am enslaved.

End Scene 2.

 

[Marquis]

Now please bear in mind that this has all taken place within the last ten days or so.

By the beginning of scene 2, I was already on my masturbatory hiatus, but it was the following event that caused an end.

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3227/2478169547_9935346cc9.jpg

Here is Santa Claus, posing as an artist, taking nude pictures of both of my girlfriends, in my living room. After he has finished the breakfast that I made for him.

I arranged this, of course.

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2078/2478169617_5d7d25af5f.jpg

Here he is, not only photographing, but touching my property. Instructing them on just how he wants them to pose and look.

Touch each other, he said, in his soft and encouraging voice.

Fucking gnome.

It was all I could take.

I busted in the next ass I fucked, to coos of reassurance.

Who is the man, I beg, who could withstand this abuse?

What must I do to remain powerful under such circumstances?

I implore you for answers, guidance, assistance.

Fin.

 

[Batch]

Am not going to masturbate

yet

I will wait.

 

[drown]

Am not going to masturbate

yet

I will wait.

the withheld
*chuckle*
spans,
expands
and encompasses.

beyond prurience,
the audacity of...

uhhhhhhh....?

sometimes a stifled
bout of hilarity
is titanically tantric.

mutual:
the future must.​

​

 

[Batch]

arousal grows

waiting

and maybe

expands.


when?

 

[bridgeburner]

Tonight I will purge all my furious urges and pent up woe through hysterical, crying, wheezing, pants-wetting laughter. It has only just occurred to me to compare the afterglow of a good gut-busting chucklefest with that of a decent O.

I will report back anon......assuming this evening's guest delivers on the hilarity.

 

[EndOfThis]

Stroked earlier while recalling a recent sexual encounter. I finally returned home after an extended absence and spent the evening with my girl.

Started out with long kisses and quickly progressed to fondling. My hand slipped down her jeans--she must have shaved this morning--she is smooth. Her lips already dripping with eagerness. I begin to rub her clit explore her body. She unzips my jeans and grabs a hold of my shaft firmly before moving down to my balls. She knows how much a love the sensation of her tickling them. We want to stripped down and make loud, intese, love...but there are people upstairs sleeping and we cannot wake them. Instead we move to a couch in the back sun room far away from their bedrooms and continue our manual stimulation.

I decide I will focus my attention on her. While I use my finger in a various ways, stimulating her lips, clit and G-spot I imagine slipping my face down between her legs and pressing my face to her warm wet pussy. I can almost taste it. I can tell she is close--I speed up--I dont think she has masturbated much while I was gone. She whispers her command: "Dont stop. Oh God!" I kiss her hard to muffle her moan. Her whole body shakes and quivers and I continue to rub her clit over and over. She tries to get me to stop--she is very sensitive...but I don't. She finally forces my hand away and giggles.

She takes a moment to recover and then wastes no time grabbing my cock and pulling it out of my pants. She begins to lightly tough and caress both my shaft and my balls and then begins to stroke, first slowly but increases her speed until she is at full speed. I can feel the cum building already. She stops. Before I can even realize what is happening I feel her body shift and then her mouth engulf my cock. She knows that it is my favorite sexual stimulation. She pays equal attention to both my balls and my cock--I have to force back moans. I want to cum in her mouth--i know she doesn't like it but I hope maybe today is the day she changes her mind. It isn't. Soon she is back up, kissing my lips. My cock was just touching these lips! I love it! Her hand finds my cock again and goes straight to a fast pace. She wants me to cum right now, no doubt. I pull up my shirt so my cum will splash on my chest and stomach. I pull my pants down past my ass to give us both more room to work with.

I am seconds away from complete bliss. I haven't came in a few days and I can tell Im going to explode. Sensing Im about to go, she whispers "I bet you are going to shoot far today--maybe it will get all over our faces." I doubt it, but I guy can dream! She has never let me cum on her face but now I think it might be coming in the near future. Her comment sends me over the edge. My cock begins to pulsate and I feel warm cum splash on my chest--actually my right nipple--just missing her chin. The rest spills out onto my stomach, filling my belly button. In my mind I image some huge porn style cumshot covering both of our faces--and us sharing a beautiful snowball kiss, leading to us cleaning eachother's faces off with our tongues. My sensitivity increases 10 fold, but she gets her revenge by not slowing her pace at all. It's nearly too much to bare--I try to wiggle out of her grasp but she just tightens her hold and laughs. Finally she lets go and we just lay there--spent. Oh to be home! We clean up with napkins and I take her home.

My jack was mediocre--i watched some cumshot collections on redtube to supplement my fantasy of a nice facial. I came all over my stomach again and cleaned it up with a pair of underwear that were close by.

 

[kotori]

I got nothing. Day Seven.

 

[rosco rathbone]

Day 6

I am seconds away from complete bliss. I haven't came in a few days and I can tell Im going to explode. Sensing Im about to go, she whispers "I bet you are going to shoot far today..."

This was oddly hot to me, this handjob fantasy. I've got ones along the same lines, I like the idea of someone knowing my reactions that well and talking pervy about ejaculations.


Laughter: "I said of laughter, it is mad, and of mirth, what doeth it?"

Laughter is often the best thing in my life. I was reading Tom Wolfe's A Man In Full the other night and laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my cheeks. I kind of caught myself and said, if you can laugh like this, life is good and you are happy, full stop.

Day 6 and I'm feeling pretty good. The new policy of keeping stimulation to a minimum has been working well. Chi seems to be diffusing through my body like a warm generalized glow instead of pooling in the sex organs.

However, last night I caught myself masturbating, fully aroused, to Karl Popper Conjectures And Refutations. A discussion of a passage in Hippolytus that was pertinent to the interpretation of certain ambiguous fragments of Heraclitus....The phrase "Alfred Tarski's correspondence theory of truth" acted as a douche of cold fluid in my face and I found myself staring down at my erect penis.

I looked at it for a while. It's a mesomorphic tool; shaply, with an elegant combination of form and function. I can imagine Michelangelo's David having my exact cock, if he were circumscised. It protruded though the slit in my boxer-briefs, moving slightly with each pulse-beat. It seemed to be saying to me "take me off the leash. I will o to Karl Popper, or W.V.O.Quine or anyone. I am not choosy."

It did not speak in words, but rather seemed to transmit this emotion, as faithful dogs do, when they stare in their master's eyes.

Another Day 5-6 phenomenon: due to the increased elastic tension in my cock, it has taken to popping out from my underwear like a snout. Very comical.

 

[MechaBlade]

Fin.

I don't understand. It's too early in the morning. But I appreciate the pics.

 

[Batch]

a great teeth gnashing and growling jack for me last night

forgot the windows were open in my office

gods it was exhausting.

 

[Marquis]

I don't understand. It's too early in the morning. But I appreciate the pics.

I was afraid of this.

I already got an email from my black girlfriend, protesting my unauthorized use of her image, and my scolding me for my need to brag.

It has nothing to do with bragging, but I'm glad you enjoyed the pics.

I wanted to offer a visual perspective on the emasculation I face on a daily basis.

I wanted to show that even a man who has women dropped on his doorstep like unwanted infants could experience crushing sexual humiliation and denial.

In fact, I think it's worse, I really do.

But also, a little funny.

And maybe a little sexy too.

 

[MechaBlade]

I was afraid of this.

I already got an email from my black girlfriend, protesting my unauthorized use of her image, and my scolding me for my need to brag.

It has nothing to do with bragging, but I'm glad you enjoyed the pics.

I wanted to offer a visual perspective on the emasculation I face on a daily basis.

I wanted to show that even a man who has women dropped on his doorstep like unwanted infants could experience crushing sexual humiliation and denial.

In fact, I think it's worse, I really do.

It's not. Your expectations are higher.

 

[Marquis]

It's not. Your expectations are higher.

It's true, but that's not entirely my fault. I think it is in the nature of man to grasp just beyond his reach.

I think the worst part is that I have less people I can relate to.

Can't get laid?

You can't throw a rock out the window without hitting a guy to talk to about that.

Can't get your black girlfriend to strap up and DP your white girlfriend with you?

You gotta figure that one out on your own.

 

[Batch]

my first jack of the day
reading stories
used just my fingers over my clit
excellent, powerful images
peaceful now.

 

[bridgeburner]

Hilarity denied. Bro was good for a couple of yuks, but neither of us was in top form. This was partly due to tiredness but also there were too many irritating people at the bar we went to. The food was good, the libation as well and it's generally a place I enjoy, but last night's crowd was a pain in the ass. We ate, drank and left.

I'm still interested in the experiment, however. I'll just have to wait.

 

[rosco rathbone]

Day 7

Everything was going fine. I didn't even really feel all that lusty yesterday, but then I woke up and I was kind of off-balance in my half-awake state. I was thinking about this guy I recently met, who is probably the most perverse person I've ever come across.

He specializes in setting up scenes where someone is forced to sexually serve large numbers of horny strangers. The things he's actually done are on the far horizons of my own perverse imaginings. He's also obsessive, maniacal about it. He lives perversity. His conversation has kindled my fantasies.

I got to thinking about these kinds of ideas, actually making them happen. Sometimes I scare myself, because although I'm usually pretty conservative and careful I've got a Jeckyll side that just busts out and does weird shit sometimes. It will pop out and upset the applecart and then sit back and laugh as I scratch my head and try to pretend to myself that I'm just a normal guy.

One thing led to another and I started jacking, against my will. I was thinking about a girl riding around in a limo, blowing all and sundry.

I couldn't get the fantasies out of my mind and I couldn't unhand my cock. It was like a rigid bar of iron and my entire system seemed engorged with blood and sperm--to the point where it actually might be dangerous not to release.

I stopped jacking it and just lay there squeezing in a reverse overhand grip. I couldn't believe how hard it was. It's as if a deadly weapon, a tire iron or bludgeon of some kind had been surgically attached to my lower abdomen...but a sensitive bludgeon, endowed with many nerve endings that were all simultaneously signalling the same message: O. You must O now.

I had to stop squeezing. A painful pressure gripped my prostate. It seemed that I might go off at the slightest stimulus.... if an ant for instance circumnambulated my cock.

"Why don't you just release?" I thought to myself. "It's probably unsafe to let this kind of pressure build up. You'll still have plenty of chi, you can just have a pipecleaner and then continue with the moratorium as if nothing had happened."

But then I thought about the shameful weakness and lassitude that release would bring. It's our male condition to be trapped between two undesireable extremes. On one hand, the emasculated and epicene state the follows orgasm. On the other, the unbearable tension of continence. Really, I thought, all this stuff about orgasm being a "pleasure" is nonsense. It's a pleasure in the same way that taking a shit is a pleasure; the purely negative relief occasioned by the discharge of a buildup of bodily secretion. These thoughts, which seemed somehow Stoical and "Roman" to me, woke me out of my orgasmic trance.

Will, I said to myself. Will. The soul controls the body, the body controls the hand, the hand controls the cock. I am master, not my gland.

 

[rick_j21]

I keep having this reoccurring fantasy about my neighbor. I had never thought of her in a sexual way until the other day I saw her folding her clothes in the community laundry room. We spoke briefly about completely innocent things but somehow the sight of her folding her lacy underwear and talking to me really turned me on. I have masturbated to the thought of fucking her right there in the laundry room on top of the drier and can't get the thought of her out of my head.

 

[bridgeburner]

There's a reason for the cliche of the public-laundry-sex fantasy. It does happen ---- if not usually right IN the laundry, many a hook-up has begun there.