I was wondering probably a few minutes ago how much calories does masturbation burnt. (background: I’ve been feeling tired and lethargic easily, and was wondering if my sexual activities were a factor, aside from my regular gym training.)
And I chanced on this while doing a silly google search.
Funny read, you got to check it out!
Scroll down and see. I especially love the part on “almost getting caught”.
Too much details
I think there should be a limit to how far friends share intimate stuff.
Guy friend A was dating a girl. He shared how he had her clothes all stripped off, but she wasn’t willing to go all the way when he asked if he could penetrate her. (Silly question anyway. Shouldn’t had asked. If he hadn’t triggered her brains, her body would have gave in.) Barely a week later, they booked a hotel room, and the girl was fucked by him 4 times the night (as per what he claimed).
Fast forward a few weeks months later, the supposedly fling turned out to be a serious relationship. The girl becomes part of our social circle. Tall, hot, sexy, and with brains.
Problem is, when I look at her, I can’t help but have these visual sexual images of them formed in my head. How to carry a decent conversation?
Urgh.
And it doesn’t help that guy friend said this to me before, “there are two things that make me really happy: snowboard and blowjob”.
Now, how do I wipe those images off my head?
Too much sex?
Can’t be. It can be an addiction though.
I take back my words in one of my earlier posting (not sure which post). I said that I’ll be happy with 13 minutes of fucking (minus foreplay). Too much will only means excess and unneccesary friction. And maybe feeling all sore and fucked up the next day, like literally.
I’m taking all those statements back.
I had a steamy session that went on for an hour (foreplay excluded). There was this point where I was actually deliberating if I should be funny and say something like, “hey are you done yet?” or “are you on viagra today?”, all just for a humorous effect. But I didn’t – in case laughter made his erection go away.
Many times I thought he was about to cum. But it was always far from it. Flipped me from back to front, front to sideways, and then with all other sorts of permutations that one can think of. It was getting hot down there. Friction between the condom and my skin – I was actually getting worried if the condom would break at one point in time. Thankfully not.
I realise a long sex session is very much enjoyable, provided that the two person must be in an extremely horny mood. That was THAT day, when we wet our bedsheets with both our perspiration and body fluids. I surpassed my own limits and never felt so fucked before. *grin*
Never too much.
5am, and we just gotten back home from the club.
I was tired and exhausted – somehow these days, it had been difficult to party through the night. I showered and headed directly to bed. Eye lids were getting heavy and I was no longer responding much to him. He was nudging, teasing and trying hard to get me into the mood.
“I can’t. I’m tired… why not you put yourself in me and go to sleep? Isn’t that what you have been wanting to do?”
Sleeping with an erected cock in me. This had been one of our to-do list, but we have never gotten down to doing it. Sex was usually too inviting after penetration.
This was the chance. I knew my body well. I figured I was too tired to get horny anyway. He could put himself in me and I probably wouldn’t had felt anything.
Or so I thought.
I curled up next to him and he skillfully inserted his hard-on into me from the back.
That fire was instantaneously ignited. I tried to brush it off by wriggling my butt a little. Wrong move – it felt like a thrust. A thrust that felt really good and started got me wet down there. Instinctively, I did that again. And again.
“Just one more and I’ll be able to get to sleep.”
But sleep never came.
I came instead. I pulled myself up from the comfortable pillows and began pleading with him to fuck me.
“But you said you wanted to sleep! You wanted me to be in you while we sleep!”
“You pushed the button, now I can’t stop. Do me.”
The banter continued. It was a tease that was getting way too frustrating. There I was, finally wide awake and able to think rationally. In fact, sex had been so good these days that I knew if I couldn’t get him pull his act altogether, I would be losing out a great deal.
It was close to 6am by now. Dawn was breaking. Summoning whatever physical energy that was left in me, I went on top of him and began riding him, in pursuit of my own needs and eventually…
his.
The sun rose and shone its bright rays onto our naked bodies, as we collapsed back onto the bed. What a beautiful morning.
And I feel strangely tired but with a craving for some light drinks. Beer would be good. And claypot rice.
Work has been intense, running on a few hours sleep for the past 2 weeks. But I still don’t like my work product. It’s sometime tough to be on the creative side because you know it when you are not satisfied with whatever you have come up with. Things worsen when that integrity in you says you can’t submit that nonsense. With deadline drawing close, I wonder, when will that inspiration hit me?
I don’t like the feeling of having to do other people’s work when I’m already up my neck. Sometimes I hope these people recognize the many things that I already have to handle and really register that in their head. Bitching to myself, that’s all I can do to let it out. Hate that.
I hope she’s fine.
I walked past the train station and I saw an old woman sitting at the corner of the steps, holding a tissue paper to her mouth. Barely a few centimetres away, laid her vomit. Or so it seems. She looked terrible. Wrinkles formed on her face – I couldn’t decide if it was due to her old age, or due to her discomfort.
I wondered why she was there. Was she not feeling well? Then why was she out?
Is she alright? I hope so.
There was a young man standing next to her. He was making a call. I pondered, is that someone she knew? Was that a call for help? If not, why was she alone?
Is she alright? I hope so.
I was walking towards the pub area with a female friend at that moment. I could have stopped to help. I could have walked up to that old lady. So could the tens of people that passed by that crowded street. But no one did. Not even me.
After all, I was in the midst of a chat with my friend. After all, I didn’t know that old lady. After all, she might just need a rest and I shouldn’t impose on her.
EXCUSES.
If I really meant it that way, I wouldn’t be feeling so bad right now.
It was merely a 5-seconds glance. No, it was two 5-seconds glances. But the images bothers me till now.
I’m sorry that I didn’t help.
Is she alright? I hope so.