The longer I hang out on the lit boards, the more I experience this shattering realization that I am nothing but an inadequate slob who lives more in the mind than in reality.
Sadly, I have to face facts that many of you seem will never have to face. I don't have a thick, throbbing manhood that droops to my knees (let alone my thighs). I don't have a partner who is a vixen in bed, yearning for a camera to display herself to the world and then return to me for a wild, uninhibited fuck. I'm not being pursued, cajoled, conned or even emailed into being someone's lust bunny.
Instead, I spend my days at a normal job, acting normal, talking normal, being .... well, plain as a vanilla ice cream cone. Sex is infrequent at best, and sometimes masturbation leads to a more thrilling release. My wardrobe gets tighter and more unappealing every year, and the only thing getting naked more often in front of other people is my receding hairline and thinning crown.
I suck at home repairs, and can feel wholly accomplished in life if I manage to fix a dripping faucet while closely following the Time Life Home Repair book series.
My arms have long since gone soft, my tummy flabby, my face ruddy and becoming more and more like my father's (who I swore I'd never become) and my skin pasty and unappealing. I can't remember the last time I got a glance from the opposite sex that seemed remotely like sexual interest, let alone an acknowledgement of me as a human being. And the every morning glance into the mirror on my way to the shower is a study of self-reproach.
At 30, I have a barely-managable marriage, am depressed, and looking at a bleak horizon that may or may not include children, long hours of toil that will end up with me being chewed and spit out by a corporation that only focuses on a bottom line, leading to a bland retirment and quite, unassuming death -- uncelebrated, briefly thought of, and soon forgotten.
Reading this board and the exciting lives of other lit members only compounds these conclusions. Now let me be upfront. I am not looking for sympathy, people to come and say, "Gee Wally, life isn't that bad. Buck up, cowboy. Your day will come."
My day did come. I was 20, and she was 18 and we damned the world with our sex and lust and appetite for each other. But now that day is over and I am living the life of the average. Dreams unfulfilled, risks untaken, and all glory lost to nightly television and uninspired books that manage to put me to sleep before 11 o'clock.
But I can't be the only one like this on literotica. I mean, my God, if I were, then the self help industry and reality make-over television would have whithered away and died years ago.
So this posting is for all of those who belong (like me, your founding member) to the LONE LOSER CLUB. This is your chance to self-deficate, spit on life and more to the fact, be brutally honest with yourself.
Share your most embarrassing story, give us a piece of your colorless day, maybe impart a little wisdom about living in the world of the bland. Cause in the LONE LOSER CLUB, life pretty much sucks. But finding out someone else is a memeber is reason alone to get up tomorrow morning......
Sadly, I have to face facts that many of you seem will never have to face. I don't have a thick, throbbing manhood that droops to my knees (let alone my thighs). I don't have a partner who is a vixen in bed, yearning for a camera to display herself to the world and then return to me for a wild, uninhibited fuck. I'm not being pursued, cajoled, conned or even emailed into being someone's lust bunny.
Instead, I spend my days at a normal job, acting normal, talking normal, being .... well, plain as a vanilla ice cream cone. Sex is infrequent at best, and sometimes masturbation leads to a more thrilling release. My wardrobe gets tighter and more unappealing every year, and the only thing getting naked more often in front of other people is my receding hairline and thinning crown.
I suck at home repairs, and can feel wholly accomplished in life if I manage to fix a dripping faucet while closely following the Time Life Home Repair book series.
My arms have long since gone soft, my tummy flabby, my face ruddy and becoming more and more like my father's (who I swore I'd never become) and my skin pasty and unappealing. I can't remember the last time I got a glance from the opposite sex that seemed remotely like sexual interest, let alone an acknowledgement of me as a human being. And the every morning glance into the mirror on my way to the shower is a study of self-reproach.
At 30, I have a barely-managable marriage, am depressed, and looking at a bleak horizon that may or may not include children, long hours of toil that will end up with me being chewed and spit out by a corporation that only focuses on a bottom line, leading to a bland retirment and quite, unassuming death -- uncelebrated, briefly thought of, and soon forgotten.
Reading this board and the exciting lives of other lit members only compounds these conclusions. Now let me be upfront. I am not looking for sympathy, people to come and say, "Gee Wally, life isn't that bad. Buck up, cowboy. Your day will come."
My day did come. I was 20, and she was 18 and we damned the world with our sex and lust and appetite for each other. But now that day is over and I am living the life of the average. Dreams unfulfilled, risks untaken, and all glory lost to nightly television and uninspired books that manage to put me to sleep before 11 o'clock.
But I can't be the only one like this on literotica. I mean, my God, if I were, then the self help industry and reality make-over television would have whithered away and died years ago.
So this posting is for all of those who belong (like me, your founding member) to the LONE LOSER CLUB. This is your chance to self-deficate, spit on life and more to the fact, be brutally honest with yourself.
Share your most embarrassing story, give us a piece of your colorless day, maybe impart a little wisdom about living in the world of the bland. Cause in the LONE LOSER CLUB, life pretty much sucks. But finding out someone else is a memeber is reason alone to get up tomorrow morning......
Leigh 
