Jacking-Off Log

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MechaBlade said:
Rodian Romanovich Raskolnikov is the main character in the terrible novel Crime & Punishment. Throughout the novel he feels incredibly guilty for murdering a woman that he murdered purely to prove a point: that he would not feel guilty for murdering her.

Very pithy summary. Excellent, sirrah.

But terrible? bah!

And what a sweet redemption in the snow...
 
rimmy said:
Tolstoy. Solzhenitsin. Chekov. Dostoyevsky (The brothers Karamazov is the only one I've read). Nabakov.
edit: nothing to see here....

However, looking through old curricula, I think I've only read a couple things by Dostoevsky, both of which made me very sorry that I could read.

Screw Russia.
 
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MechaBlade said:
Only good thing I've read is The Communist Manifesto, which wasn't a novel.

However, looking through old curricula, I think I've only read a couple things by Dostoevsky, both of which made me very sorry that I could read.

Screw Russia.
Good women and vodka though.
 
rimmy said:
Not an Asimov fan either?

How about Yaacov Smirnov?
Let's just say I, Robot wasn't my favorite movie.

Never heard of him.

Hester said:
hester is half russian and likes gogol
As long as you're not full russian :D

rimmy said:
Good women and vodka though.
I used to like Smirnoff and drank it plenty, until I tried Grey Goose.

Now I feel like I was cheated throughout college.

Oliver Clozoff said:
Descended from Catherine the Great, no doubt.

Perhaps the horse story isn't apocryphal after all... :p
Nice.
 
RASCAL KNOCKOFF said:
I am the Raskolnikov of jerking off.

:eek:

That's the kind of strong statement we like here (although I read it as "Rasputin" for some reason); but you can't just let that hang. Let's see some shame, some evasion of the landlady on the stairwell! Perhaps you'd like to come have a little chat with me in my office at Police headquarters, eh? Strictly to pass the time of day, you understand....

Rascal Knockoff knocked one off and nearly knocked his cock off lol.

MECHA said:
Rodian Romanovich Raskolnikov is the main character in the terrible novel Crime & Punishment. Throughout the novel he feels incredibly guilty for murdering a woman that he murdered purely to prove a point: that he would not feel guilty for murdering her.

Overlong for sure, but "terrible"???

HTR said:
i need a guy with just a little bit of asshole in him. not so much that you'd find him at the local trailer park, but enough so that he knows how to deal with me and has the stones to do it. i am not an easy person to live with, and can be quite an ass myself.

Interesting. So assholeness/stones have some correlation with poverty?

MECHA said:
Russians can't write.
This cannot be allowed to slide. Notes From Underground, sir. Dead Souls. Not to mention the ouevre of Chekov. Granted, a lot of Dostoevsky and Tolstoy is a major slog, but worth it for the good parts. (The million rubles in the fireplace in The Idiot) for instance. Bulgakov. Solzenitsyn. If the Russians can't write, no one can.

Vitality is lowish. I spilt seed last night but wasn't really focused. The weather here is uncertain and my body's chi and electricity don't seem to know which channel to follow. Furthermore, I am becoming extremely sensitive to loud noises produced by vehicles in the street. Car horns and alarms especially, but also car stereos and loud acceleration. The noises produced by people's vehicles fill me with an intense fight or flight reaction that leaves me shaking with frustrated anger. Instead of masturbating, I lie in bed fantasizing about various ways of getting revenge. I currently like the idea of carrying a handheld marine emergency air-horn and jamming it people's driver's windows.

Inconstant rain falls and the vitality of spring is nowhere to be seen. I jacked thinking about a long-ago female who I'd been reminded of by a barmaid in Hoboken. She had a pretty, apple-pie blonde face and what I call the smile of submissiveness which is wide and open but with uncertain eyes that drop when stared into. Years ago I used to order her to her knees on filthy public restroom floors. The kind of girl who wears a baseball cap with a blond ponytail coming out the back. A sorority sweetheart drawn to the darkness I represent. Where is she now?

I couldn't really focus. At one point I fell asleep and then was awakened in a horror, because I saw a light shining out of the bathroom and heard voices talking. I was in that in-between state where any beings in one's apartment conversing and moving about could only have malevolent intent. I sat bolt upright with a start and realized that it was only the lights of an idling vehicle reflecting from my walls and the voices belonged to youths conversing in the street with the driver.

I went back to my jack and concluded, a miserable nostalgic pipsqueek of an o anent female long gone and turned into dust.
 
alice_underneath said:
I'm sure this is scientifically sound, but I'm just gonna forget I ever read it. :)

Since watching Chronicles of Narnia, I've had frequent fantasies in which I am ravaged by an enormous (and very aggressive) talking lion.

I'm not sure why, exactly. I think it's the paws, though it could be the gait or the roar.

Naw, prolly just some hirsute electra thing......

I'd offer to volunteer for the ravage even in costume, but, tho a Leo, I'm said to be ursine :(

(I'm not sure how scientifically sound, by the way, the guy was a ranger; it likely was observational.)
 
i'm back to where porn not only isn't working for me but it's distracting.
 
Hester said:
i'm back to where porn not only isn't working for me but it's distracting.
Nothing? Not stories or vids? I go through those stages too when I get disenchanted with the norm even if my norm isn't every ones norm. That's when I tell myself I'm gonna go buy some really hardcore DVDs with all the trimmings but I never do.


My son's been sick all week and it's been draining my energy. I doubt I have a decent jack in me though I may recount an old tale later.
 
rimmy said:
Nothing? Not stories or vids? I go through those stages too when I get disenchanted with the norm even if my norm isn't every ones norm. That's when I tell myself I'm gonna go buy some really hardcore DVDs with all the trimmings but I never do.


My son's been sick all week and it's been draining my energy. I doubt I have a decent jack in me though I may recount an old tale later.
no. it doesn't take me long for even extreme stuff to seem mundane. at this point i'll be reading a pretty sick story and start to get distracted by the grammar or choice of paragraph breaks.
 
rosco rathbone said:
Interesting. So assholeness/stones have some correlation with poverty?
I'm not sure I buy that theory.

I know quite a few affluent and callously arrogant men who treat others - including their intimate partners - like dirt on a regular basis.

iansearchof said:
Naw, prolly just some hirsute electra thing......

I'd offer to volunteer for the ravage even in costume, but, tho a Leo, I'm said to be ursine :(
LOL @ 'hirsute electra' and the costume idea. :)

There's no shame in ursine (for guys, anyway).
 
iansearchof said:
alice_underneath said:
Since watching Chronicles of Narnia, I've had frequent fantasies in which I am ravaged by an enormous (and very aggressive) talking lion.
I've had vivid lion sex dreams three times in my life. Best dreams I've ever had. Soul dreams - and I'm not a spiritual type.
 
Olivia_Yearns said:
I've had vivid lion sex dreams three times in my life. Best dreams I've ever had. Soul dreams - and I'm not a spiritual type.
Male lions are unbelievably hot creatures. Just watching them walk is enough to get me aroused.

What elements of the dreams make you characterize them as 'soul dreams'?
 
alice_underneath said:
Since watching Chronicles of Narnia, I've had frequent fantasies in which I am ravaged by an enormous (and very aggressive) talking lion.

I'm not sure why, exactly. I think it's the paws, though it could be the gait or the roar.

I seriously wanted Aslan to be my boyfriend when I was a child. Of course I always thought I could've saved Christ if he'd been my boyfriend. Later this morphed into a major crush on Peter Chris -- best of all worlds, whiskers, long hair and Rock'n'Roll with a sensitive side as well (he penned "Beth").

I was heavy into Ted Neeley and JC Superstar. More of my religious thought was shaped by that film and Godspell than ever took sitting through Sunday services. I'm such the child of 70's theater students. It never occurred to me that Jesus didn't fuck. I thought he just didn't want to play favorites.


alice_underneath said:
There are two women at Lit who often leave me thinking - Damn! If she were a guy, she would be so incredibly hot!!

You already know who the first one is, and could probably guess the second. ;)

I can think of a couple myself! ;->
 
Since I have to energy to wank I'll recount an old tale as promised:

I had spoken to her earlier in the day and told her I would be calling back at 9 that night. I was at work all night so I was looking forward to the break. When 9 PM struck I grabbed my cell and snuck out to the stairwell to have a smoke as we spoke. She answered on the third ring and her voice seemed strained and shallow. I asked her if everything was alright when it occurred to me what was happening. "He's got his fingers inside me" she moaned. I instantly got hard. "Should I call back later?" I asked. She told me she'd been waiting for this all day and that she wanted me to jack. I ran down three flights of stairs to get to the basement stairwell and pulled out my cock. By the time I was down there she was now being filled with cock and moaning quite loudly. I love the sounds of a woman in lust.

I spit in my hand and grabbed my meat with my pants around my knees and egged her on, telling her what a slut she was for waiting till I phone to fuck hubby. That's when I hear footsteps. I froze for a moment then turned the corner to hide. The people walked right past my hiding spot seemingly oblivious. I got even harder. I told her how I wanted to fuck her throat while hubby fucks her pussy from behind, his thrusts and mine timed to perfection as we impaled her repeatedly.

I could tell from her pitch that her O was imminent and turned the smut into overdrive. She wailed as she came and, as it always did, sent my hand flying at light speed over my cock and my seed onto the floor.

I looked at the phone and realised we'd been at it for 25 minutes. I pulled up my pants, my cock still dripping, and made my way back to the office.

This is a true story and one of my best phone memories. One of my best work memories too.
 
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