Jacking-Off Log
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rosco rathbone
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Bent said:
This shows persipacity. "Jacking" is really a cock thing. But chicks with big clitorises are grandfathered in.
bridgeburner
threadkiller
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""Jacking" is really a cock thing. But chicks with big clitorises are grandfathered in."
Guess I'll have to stick to "rubbing off" then. If I were a guy I'd have serious size-anxiety.
-B
Guess I'll have to stick to "rubbing off" then. If I were a guy I'd have serious size-anxiety.
-B
Luna_Wolf72
CinnaWolf circa 2023
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Depression O (Today 5 pm)
I spent the day from hell. I went after a client's mother today..took everything I had not to beat her to a bloody pulp. So after work, I came home and stripped down, climbed into a tub full of scented water and cried.
On to the jack...
Using one hand (left i think) I played with just my clit, light circles..thinking on the unadulterated pleasure smacking that older lady to the ground would have given me. The tears flowed, even as i shook, even as I eased into a small orgasm.
scale of 1-5..mayhap a 2
I washed off and stepped out then wrapped a towel around me and walked into the bedroom. Lying down i turned my mind to other things..but what got me off was simply the thought of being *gone*. Utter blackness, complete solitude, no noise, no lights..no breath..
I used a mini-vibe and concentrated all of the movement on just my clit while using a small leather belt to slowly *suspend* my breathing..
It worked..between the blankness and loss of breath, i came hard, shuddering...
On a scale of 1-5, I would give it a solid 4..
Didn't ease my depression any, but at least i am no longer crying...
I spent the day from hell. I went after a client's mother today..took everything I had not to beat her to a bloody pulp. So after work, I came home and stripped down, climbed into a tub full of scented water and cried.
On to the jack...
Using one hand (left i think) I played with just my clit, light circles..thinking on the unadulterated pleasure smacking that older lady to the ground would have given me. The tears flowed, even as i shook, even as I eased into a small orgasm.
scale of 1-5..mayhap a 2
I washed off and stepped out then wrapped a towel around me and walked into the bedroom. Lying down i turned my mind to other things..but what got me off was simply the thought of being *gone*. Utter blackness, complete solitude, no noise, no lights..no breath..
I used a mini-vibe and concentrated all of the movement on just my clit while using a small leather belt to slowly *suspend* my breathing..
It worked..between the blankness and loss of breath, i came hard, shuddering...
On a scale of 1-5, I would give it a solid 4..
Didn't ease my depression any, but at least i am no longer crying...
bridgeburner
threadkiller
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pat pat pat
sorry you had a shitty day, but I'm glad you got off in spite of it!
sorry you had a shitty day, but I'm glad you got off in spite of it!
Luna_Wolf72
CinnaWolf circa 2023
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bridgeburner said:
Thanks BB....
now if only I could sleep...
bridgeburner
threadkiller
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Rubbed one out yesterday around 6 o'clock. Serial rapist captures a female cop, does his thing and leaves her tied for her fellow officers to find. They of course decide to take advantage of the windfall. Pretty standard physically but I got fixated on the betrayal elements. Also had a rather high level of anxiety because the fan was blowing the verticle blinds a bit and I could hear the neighbors and their kids walking around outside. It was fairly dark in my room comparatively, but I was a bit worried that one of them might happen to glance in and see me. Generally this is more distracting than arousing for me. I'm not wild about the idea of being caught masturbating ---- totally different thing from being actively watched ---- but I was too involved to let it throw me off yesterday. O-rating: 4
-B
-B
rosco rathbone
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I got one off this morning. As I worked it and jerked it; I was thinking about how sublime and unfair it is to deny a woman congress in her girl-hole: the three-hole. This has a long precedent in the world of unfair sexuality; for example in the Story Of O , where we read that Sir Stephen "disdained the womb" and insisted on congress "as one uses a boy". There's a deep perversity to this, I think.
The thought of unfair sexuality, of using another for my pleasure and to gratify my whims; is always enough to make me shoot goo. And this was a juicey one. After several days of restraint, the seed would not stop flowing, accompanied by the most voluptous pangs deep within my core.
The thought of unfair sexuality, of using another for my pleasure and to gratify my whims; is always enough to make me shoot goo. And this was a juicey one. After several days of restraint, the seed would not stop flowing, accompanied by the most voluptous pangs deep within my core.
rosco rathbone
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I got one off this day, in the usual way.
bridgeburner
threadkiller
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Saturday afternoon. I'm still thinking of this one as a Hi-Jack. I was returning the trashcan to the bathroom after a trip outside to empty it. Walking out of the bathroom through the bedroom I was overwhelmed with the need to get off. right. this. minute!
Laid back on the bed and stuck one hand up my shirt and the other down my shorts. I can't even remember what I thought about but it took about five minutes to get a solid 3.5 on the O-scale.
Then it was off to finish painting the kitchen cupboards.
-B
Laid back on the bed and stuck one hand up my shirt and the other down my shorts. I can't even remember what I thought about but it took about five minutes to get a solid 3.5 on the O-scale.
Then it was off to finish painting the kitchen cupboards.
-B
bridgeburner
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Last night, standard rape thoughts, grabbed a 3 focussing on the image of really rapid thrusting into a full-splay.
rosco rathbone
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Got one off last night, typical insomnia jacking. I got over the top thinking about a nurse who used to blow me. She had such a light, detached, pleasing, clinical way about her when it came to oral ministrations.
Typical verballly-centered me....as I rested my nutsack upon the cool porcelain rim of the roman ejaculation basin; the phrases such a cool, solicitous, nursely touch ran through my ejaculation mind; and elevated a basic body-orgasm into a three-groaner.
Typical verballly-centered me....as I rested my nutsack upon the cool porcelain rim of the roman ejaculation basin; the phrases such a cool, solicitous, nursely touch ran through my ejaculation mind; and elevated a basic body-orgasm into a three-groaner.
KindaKinky
It's Been A Long Time…
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Bored and watching an edited version of a soft core film I'd seen on Cinemax. 
(Grr! Damn R-rated versions! Oh well. ) It took me only a minute to arouse my cock, and another three to climax. Unfortunately, it had the reverse effect: I couldn't get to sleep afterwards. Staying up until 5am and you can't rub another out can be frustrating.
(Grr! Damn R-rated versions! Oh well. ) It took me only a minute to arouse my cock, and another three to climax. Unfortunately, it had the reverse effect: I couldn't get to sleep afterwards. Staying up until 5am and you can't rub another out can be frustrating.
MechaBlade
irrumatio king
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bridgeburner said:
Mmm... The rapist and the female cop. Sounds like fodder for one of my stories.
bridgeburner
threadkiller
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Hiya Mecha!
Yes, it rather does, doesn't it? Now hop to it, hon. I'd imagine you have something to offer the J-Log.
-B
Yes, it rather does, doesn't it? Now hop to it, hon. I'd imagine you have something to offer the J-Log.
-B
evesdream
perfect fifth
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i happily zone out when jilling in a way that is not usually possible during partnersex.
i've had 3 or 4 orgasms during jill sessions, in about an hour or so. i can usually feel if i have another "in me" or if it's just time to lay my paw to rest.
these days the only things that make me hot enough to take matters into my own hands for big returns are my standby gangbang fantasies (aka old faithful) and a memory of something that happened to me once in a hotel room, and a pavlovian response to the sound of rain.
embarrassing.
today i lay on my stomach, put my hands in backwards prayer against my thighs, and undulating my entire body against them i came forth, so to speak, in and out of dozy dreams, very satisfyingly. this orgasm spread out of my lap but its most rewarding effects were felt in my calmness of spirit for the next few minutes, just laying there.
i've had 3 or 4 orgasms during jill sessions, in about an hour or so. i can usually feel if i have another "in me" or if it's just time to lay my paw to rest.
these days the only things that make me hot enough to take matters into my own hands for big returns are my standby gangbang fantasies (aka old faithful) and a memory of something that happened to me once in a hotel room, and a pavlovian response to the sound of rain.
embarrassing.
today i lay on my stomach, put my hands in backwards prayer against my thighs, and undulating my entire body against them i came forth, so to speak, in and out of dozy dreams, very satisfyingly. this orgasm spread out of my lap but its most rewarding effects were felt in my calmness of spirit for the next few minutes, just laying there.
Last edited:
rosco rathbone
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It's Not Every Day That You Get to Fuck a Dream Girl
A purgatorial week. I make my daily bread inside a 3x4 steel tube, standing on a 100-metre-high ladder. Humidity: 100%. Other factors of family life and personal life frustration have beaten me to a pulp.
Each night I seek solace in sleep; and each night I suffer the throws of insomnia.
My mornings have been utterly brutal and foul; this week. I've always been incapable of arising with good grace at 5 AM; but usually I muddle through somehow. The past four days have been completely insufferable, however. Even if I go to bed at 7PM; some combination of hellish factors emotional mental and moral keeps me awake until 4AM, no matter how exhausted I be--just so that the alarum is certain to waken me at the very bottom of desperate REM slumber. To walk the streets of the city; and ride the silver worms, in such a state, is utterly Danteesque. I see no citizen, but that his visage is transformed to that of a demon. The paltry urges that make men do this or that---choose this seat or the other on a subway train--seem motivated by the foulest and most maleficent sadism. Furthermore; the city is sealed in by a gaseous, rainbow haze that seems fit to suck the strength from a Sampson.
It was with these thoughts in mind that I retired to my cot at about 8PM; seeking to sleep and escape my troubles. I fell into a brief doze; but awoke at 11PM to the sound of cretinous Porto Rican youths carousing outside.
Then I lay awake and rigid till about 3; when I got up and essayed a jack. I O'd; but only in a manner of speaking.
Then I returned to my cot; wide awake; knowing full well that I was sure to fall deeply asleep about 45 minutes before my alarm went off---so as to ensure that I would suffer the maximum penalty from arising in that state.
I slept and I dreem'd. All I can remember is that I was fucking a mulatta with long, slender legs and a large, firm bubble ass. I've never had a "wet dream"---in my dream life; just as I am about to pop my cork, something always intervenes and leaves me frustrated. But this was the nearest to wet-dreaming I've ever come. I seem to have gained some control over dreaming life. I was slugging away at this onerific cunt's ass and all manner of surreal and preposterous distractions presented themselves...part of my dream brain wanted me to be the captains of a WWl German Battleship about to be destroyed by shellfire....Kapitan! They've bracketed us! We're about to be back-scuttled!...(I got the phrase "back-scuttled" from a Henry Miller description of fucking a prostitute in 1930s Paris; and somehow managed to transform it into a technical term of naval warfare meaning "to destroy a warship by shelling it to the rear of the coal-scuttles; where the sensitive and explosive boilers lie underneath the armor plating...." and then some dream women wanted to argue about cinema and feelm; all the while I was backscuttling their dream sister.
I became very frustrated from my inability to nut; but all of a sudden my dream sensations gained a deep poignant pang. I could really feeeel myself penetrating to the hilt; as it where...an attempt to describe such an ethereal yet deeply felt sensation is doomed to failure. It came at the maximum point of battle between my wet-dreaming mind to achieve conculsion and my regular dreaming mind to overwhelm conclusion under a mound of astral trivia. At that moment my dream partner urged me on! as if she could sense that I was close to conclusion.
I awoke to the infernal buzz of the alarum clock and was never less enthused to witness a sunrise. Gingerly I stepped to the floor and felt the first pangs from my heel spurs. I limped to the roman ejaculatorium to make my feeble toilette. Never in my life; I think, have I been on my feet and moving while so completely asleep. A true breaching of the wall between the states.
Usually; I follow a rigid routine, but after brushing my teeth, I suddenly caught a glimpse of my fuckface in the mirror, seen with the eyes of dreaming, and took hold of my joint--determined to finish off what I'd begun in slumber. I was so close to the sleep state...it was truly bizarre. I felt as if I was dropping back into sleep in order to finally conclude the wet dream that has been evading me these many years. I was already in REM mode and I easily slipped back in the "fantasy" of fucking the large-assed mulatta. I was awake, and jacking, yet for all practical purposes still asleep. I heard her voice urging me on and thought I to myself this time, I'm finally going to do it!
My joint was completely limp, as befits an etheral penis firing a load in a dream. I convulsed over the early morning sink, in the pale gaseous hue of dawn, and distinctly, in the very center of my brain head; near the pineal glad; I felt and heard and sensed a powerful yet ridiculous POP!. much like the produced by a teenaged girl slapping her lips in order to explode a large bubble of grape bubblegum. My floppy cock did not produce so much as a thimbleful of essence---I'd already spent the best of myself hours before. The O was entirely astral.
Utterly bizzarre.
A purgatorial week. I make my daily bread inside a 3x4 steel tube, standing on a 100-metre-high ladder. Humidity: 100%. Other factors of family life and personal life frustration have beaten me to a pulp.
Each night I seek solace in sleep; and each night I suffer the throws of insomnia.
My mornings have been utterly brutal and foul; this week. I've always been incapable of arising with good grace at 5 AM; but usually I muddle through somehow. The past four days have been completely insufferable, however. Even if I go to bed at 7PM; some combination of hellish factors emotional mental and moral keeps me awake until 4AM, no matter how exhausted I be--just so that the alarum is certain to waken me at the very bottom of desperate REM slumber. To walk the streets of the city; and ride the silver worms, in such a state, is utterly Danteesque. I see no citizen, but that his visage is transformed to that of a demon. The paltry urges that make men do this or that---choose this seat or the other on a subway train--seem motivated by the foulest and most maleficent sadism. Furthermore; the city is sealed in by a gaseous, rainbow haze that seems fit to suck the strength from a Sampson.
It was with these thoughts in mind that I retired to my cot at about 8PM; seeking to sleep and escape my troubles. I fell into a brief doze; but awoke at 11PM to the sound of cretinous Porto Rican youths carousing outside.
Then I lay awake and rigid till about 3; when I got up and essayed a jack. I O'd; but only in a manner of speaking.
Then I returned to my cot; wide awake; knowing full well that I was sure to fall deeply asleep about 45 minutes before my alarm went off---so as to ensure that I would suffer the maximum penalty from arising in that state.
I slept and I dreem'd. All I can remember is that I was fucking a mulatta with long, slender legs and a large, firm bubble ass. I've never had a "wet dream"---in my dream life; just as I am about to pop my cork, something always intervenes and leaves me frustrated. But this was the nearest to wet-dreaming I've ever come. I seem to have gained some control over dreaming life. I was slugging away at this onerific cunt's ass and all manner of surreal and preposterous distractions presented themselves...part of my dream brain wanted me to be the captains of a WWl German Battleship about to be destroyed by shellfire....Kapitan! They've bracketed us! We're about to be back-scuttled!...(I got the phrase "back-scuttled" from a Henry Miller description of fucking a prostitute in 1930s Paris; and somehow managed to transform it into a technical term of naval warfare meaning "to destroy a warship by shelling it to the rear of the coal-scuttles; where the sensitive and explosive boilers lie underneath the armor plating...." and then some dream women wanted to argue about cinema and feelm; all the while I was backscuttling their dream sister.
I became very frustrated from my inability to nut; but all of a sudden my dream sensations gained a deep poignant pang. I could really feeeel myself penetrating to the hilt; as it where...an attempt to describe such an ethereal yet deeply felt sensation is doomed to failure. It came at the maximum point of battle between my wet-dreaming mind to achieve conculsion and my regular dreaming mind to overwhelm conclusion under a mound of astral trivia. At that moment my dream partner urged me on! as if she could sense that I was close to conclusion.
I awoke to the infernal buzz of the alarum clock and was never less enthused to witness a sunrise. Gingerly I stepped to the floor and felt the first pangs from my heel spurs. I limped to the roman ejaculatorium to make my feeble toilette. Never in my life; I think, have I been on my feet and moving while so completely asleep. A true breaching of the wall between the states.
Usually; I follow a rigid routine, but after brushing my teeth, I suddenly caught a glimpse of my fuckface in the mirror, seen with the eyes of dreaming, and took hold of my joint--determined to finish off what I'd begun in slumber. I was so close to the sleep state...it was truly bizarre. I felt as if I was dropping back into sleep in order to finally conclude the wet dream that has been evading me these many years. I was already in REM mode and I easily slipped back in the "fantasy" of fucking the large-assed mulatta. I was awake, and jacking, yet for all practical purposes still asleep. I heard her voice urging me on and thought I to myself this time, I'm finally going to do it!
My joint was completely limp, as befits an etheral penis firing a load in a dream. I convulsed over the early morning sink, in the pale gaseous hue of dawn, and distinctly, in the very center of my brain head; near the pineal glad; I felt and heard and sensed a powerful yet ridiculous POP!. much like the produced by a teenaged girl slapping her lips in order to explode a large bubble of grape bubblegum. My floppy cock did not produce so much as a thimbleful of essence---I'd already spent the best of myself hours before. The O was entirely astral.
Utterly bizzarre.
rosco rathbone
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I got two off. The first one was last night. I was so tired that I don't remember any of it.
I got another one off this morning. I was thinking about making a girl with a high, round, firm, springy, gelatinous ass stand leaning at a wall, legs stiff, lower back arched out and ordering her to bounce rapidly on her toes in order to make her asscheeks jiggle in a humiliating fashion---as I stood to the side and beat them with a belt as hard as possible, roaring "MAKE THEM ASSCHEEKS JIGGLE, YA BITCH!"
This was too much. I ran to the roman ejaculatorium to shoot juice, with a hasty counterimage of throwing her face down across the ejaculation basin beneath me and stuffing it in. I really popped my cork good-and there was deadly essence still left in th cask, even after last night's excesses! A strangled shout through gritted teeth was the verbal accompaniment to my ejaculation.
I got another one off this morning. I was thinking about making a girl with a high, round, firm, springy, gelatinous ass stand leaning at a wall, legs stiff, lower back arched out and ordering her to bounce rapidly on her toes in order to make her asscheeks jiggle in a humiliating fashion---as I stood to the side and beat them with a belt as hard as possible, roaring "MAKE THEM ASSCHEEKS JIGGLE, YA BITCH!"
This was too much. I ran to the roman ejaculatorium to shoot juice, with a hasty counterimage of throwing her face down across the ejaculation basin beneath me and stuffing it in. I really popped my cork good-and there was deadly essence still left in th cask, even after last night's excesses! A strangled shout through gritted teeth was the verbal accompaniment to my ejaculation.
rosco rathbone
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morning noon and night...
Just when I think I couldn't possibly get off another one--I go and do it.
I was thinking about a black girl dressed like a housekeeper-in-her-Sunday-best; on her knees before me on a hard floor, sucking it dutifully and humbly.
When I bust I often arch my back, but this time I for some reason bent over backwards into nearly a Limbo Dance position---as if I was trying to hit the sun in the eye with a dose of venom.
Just when I think I couldn't possibly get off another one--I go and do it.
I was thinking about a black girl dressed like a housekeeper-in-her-Sunday-best; on her knees before me on a hard floor, sucking it dutifully and humbly.
When I bust I often arch my back, but this time I for some reason bent over backwards into nearly a Limbo Dance position---as if I was trying to hit the sun in the eye with a dose of venom.
bridgeburner
threadkiller
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I've developed a bit of a routine over the last week. I've been getting home around 5:15. I take the dog out, open the mail, unpack a box, have a smoke and then feel the need to nap. Only the precursor to the nap is a furious rub-off. I've been hitting pretty consistent 5's for the last few days. I'm sure it's hormonal to some extent but I'm all screwed up calendar wise and have no idea when to expect what at this point. Two weeks ago it was distressing because I was sure I ought to be in a libidinous frenzy but could hardly muster the will to jack. Now when I was sure I must've reached my lifetime quota or something, my hormones are all leaping around demanding satisfaction.
Feh. I'll never figure it out.
Still fixated on the rapist and the female cop, but it struck me that her fellow cops really couldn't get away with actually fucking her because it would screw up the evidence.(Why I allowed myself to be distracted by this in the middle of a jack I couldn't say. Sometimes I'm perverse in really annoying ways.) I solved the problem by having the cops fuck her with her knight stick while beating off. THAT was fun and satisfying in a whole different way.
-B
Feh. I'll never figure it out.
Still fixated on the rapist and the female cop, but it struck me that her fellow cops really couldn't get away with actually fucking her because it would screw up the evidence.(Why I allowed myself to be distracted by this in the middle of a jack I couldn't say. Sometimes I'm perverse in really annoying ways.) I solved the problem by having the cops fuck her with her knight stick while beating off. THAT was fun and satisfying in a whole different way.
-B
rosco rathbone
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I took some photographs of a girl I fuck months ago; but I just got them developed.
I've been jacking morning noon and night over those pix but, I only busted once, since I was at the old family homestead for a funeral and the flow wasn't there.
I laid the photos out on the marriage bed that my grandfather made my parents with his own hands (now rotting and dusting in an abandoned guest bedroom for many years post divorce), and spread a large purple bandana to nut into as I looked at my favorite shot, which was of her with wrists chained to a balustrade, legs spread, back arched, ass up, ass-skin covered with welts. Her head turned over shoulder, an inscrutable expession on her face. Her form looked so shapely that I literally nutted in like 4 or 5 jacks. I have to do this picture taking thing more.
I've been jacking morning noon and night over those pix but, I only busted once, since I was at the old family homestead for a funeral and the flow wasn't there.
I laid the photos out on the marriage bed that my grandfather made my parents with his own hands (now rotting and dusting in an abandoned guest bedroom for many years post divorce), and spread a large purple bandana to nut into as I looked at my favorite shot, which was of her with wrists chained to a balustrade, legs spread, back arched, ass up, ass-skin covered with welts. Her head turned over shoulder, an inscrutable expession on her face. Her form looked so shapely that I literally nutted in like 4 or 5 jacks. I have to do this picture taking thing more.
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