lex-man

[lex-man]

Huh

[lex-man]

reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)

[lex-man]

Basically Us

I dreamt about my coworker. It started out with me in my underwear on the floor of her home watching TV. There was another guy with me but he was turned facing away from me on the phone. My coworker comes out of the shower with only a towel on and nothing else. She lays on the floor in front of me and we started talking. The guy on the phone gets angry at the person on the other line and leaves the house. I don't know what the conversation was because my dream didn't let me understand but we were just giggling and laughing. I guess we were talking about people's bodies because she openes her towel and started pointing at different parts of her body, including her breasts and vagina. She actually spreads her legs and touches her vagina, moving the clit and lips to make her point. I do the same thing but I started pointing at my penis and move it around showing her different parts. Then something on the TV distracts us so we turned around and we stare at the TV and then the dreams stopped with a different dream starting.

[lex-man]

Longing Most Valuable

One of my best friends opened my eyes to my “type”. The kind of qualities people have that you are attracted to the most. I never knew I had one until he pointed it out. Looking at all of the people that I have been drawn to, I can see it now. The woman that I married, then divorced, and the woman that I fell in love with were opposites. But my ex-wife pretended to be my type while the other one is exactly what I want in a partner. She is perfect and I fell for her many years ago.

A year had passed since I began to date G. I was new and we were still exploring each other hoping that the relationship will last forever. She lived with parents and I lived with mine. We would hang out, have sex, hang out and talk on the phone for hours. Whenever I could I would use my brother’s car and go see her. That year was topped off with the biggest national tragedy since the bombing of Pearl Harbor. The towers fell and knowing that G was from New York, I called her to see if she needed any emotional support. She did of course.

Another year goes by with G and I getting closer and it being a few more months before she moved in with my family. One of my “cousins,” truthfully he was a cousin of a cousin from being married to my biological aunt. Hopefully that makes sense. But I basically was raised with him so we called each other cousins. Anyways. He was getting married in a couple of months and our mutual relation was throwing him a party celebration. He was a manager at a bar/restaurant/arcade place that had a giant upstairs for party buyouts. G and I helped with the decoration, we stayed up all night to make the place look cool.

The night of the festivity, my family with G drove to the place in one vehicle. The whole family was there, we’re Hispanic and catholic so there are dozens of us. The groom-to-be had a pretty large family as well and we were going to live it up. Puerto Ricans know how to party and party big. I was socializing with everyone as G following me and having fun. Once and a while we would separate and did our own things but that didn’t last too long as we would find each other again.

As the night went on, I was looking around the large room and seeing many familiar faces, a few that I didn’t know because they were friends of certain individuals in the family. Suddenly, I was struck by lightning and my whole life changed in a flash. Beauty in glasses. Everything that I would later learn was my “type” in one person. She was standing with her family, talking and smiling the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. Her light brown hair was wavy as if begging me move my fingers through them. I had to talk to her…no, I needed to talk to her.

G was with a few of my cousins laughing it up which was the perfect opportunity to make my move. I walked up to her and made small talk. I don’t even remember what I said but I bet it was ridiculous but normal enough for her to keep talking to me. Her gorgeous hazel eyes sparkled behind her glasses. The music was really loud so we had to talk even louder. Then she said something unexpected, she invited me to leave the party and into the rest of the arcade. Blindly I followed, forgetting the rest of the people surrounding me including what’s-her-name.

The arcade was closed so all the lights and games were off. We were on the second level with she and I standing on at the top of the stairs looking to the empty building. Her normal level voice made my heart skip a beat. It sounded like everything that can ever make me feel joy but as a voice…her voice. It was a bit high pitched with dips of mid and low parts, depending on what she was saying. I asked her thousands of questions just for her to keep talking and I can look upon her beauty and listen to her bliss inducing sound.

We could have stayed talking for hours and I would have loved every minute of it. She made me laugh and smile and…crash. Out of nowhere, G came out of the party looking for me. The worst interruption in the history of me to ever happen. The heaven I was in came crashing down. Reality grabbed me from the most jubilant happiness that I ever felt. I awkwardly introduced them to each other trying to keep my attention to my girlfriend and not the angel next to me. G said we should be heading back into the party but my beauty wanted to stay out for a few more minutes.

For the rest of the night, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. The festivities ended and we went back to our homes. The next fourteen years would go by slow and quick simultaneously. G and I would get married and then divorce. Life would keep me stagnant but peaceful even now. But all that time, love I have for my angel stayed the same...I would even say it has grown. I fell in love with her that night and it has not faltered. Unfortunately for your hero, my feelings were not reciprocated. Her “type” was someone completely different from me. At the moment of this writing, I have shown, wrote, talked and sang my undying love for her but to no avail. I respect her non-romantic feelings for me and I will always be here for her. As her friend, her cheerleader, her guru and someone just to say hi to. My love for her knows no bounds and it will always be there for her.

I never realized people had a “type” but know I understand.

[lex-man]

Last Thoughts of the Night

I noticed that I'm attracted to women with either really big breasts or very small breasts. No in between.

[lex-man]

TEXT TO MY SISTER

Thank you once again for letting me be myself. I am so comfortable around you that I had a great time. I haven't felt like this in a long time. I didn't realize the impact that you have on me until my coworker said that she's never seen me so lively and it's all because of you. I love you always and forever.

[lex-man]

CREATIVITY AND THE GREMLIN CALLED SELF-DOUBT

               Now I am not the first “writer” who has had problems with their brain. Not to compare but names like Jack London, Edgar Allen Poe, Sylvia Plath, Hunter S, Thompson, Virginia Woolf and the list goes on and on. They seem to have a creative rush that drives them till their darkness becomes too strong for them to handle. Sorry, “darkness” is what I call the creeping feeling in the back of my mind that is hell bent on destroying me from the inside out. Nonetheless, I read about these people who actually have had others read their creations, its out in the universe and everything, but that seems to still not be enough to have a fighting chance.

               What about those whose darkness was too strong for them and it actually stymied their chance to create? Am I one of those? I’m close to being forty and still have nothing to show for it. I still and try but nothing comes to fruition. Even today as I write this, I promised myself to write something different and tangible. Yet, this happened. Even knowing the end of those writers that cut their lives short, what did they have inside them that I don’t. The drive inside them must have been powerful enough for them to actually start and finish a project. Why don’t I have that?

               Even when I do finish a project, a little part of me keeps repeating that it sucks. Like those stories about gremlins that tinker with the plan after takeoff. The plane is chugging along but then engine failure and the plane goes boom. That’s exactly my thought process once I’m done writing. I go from “yay” to “boooo.” Because of the gremlin called self-doubt fucks with my natural high. As if it crossed my happy wires and plugged them into my insecurity inputs.  Two wires and my brain goes boom.

               And what really pisses me off is that it pisses me off. I get angry that I am angry that I am not writing. My darkness and the gremlin should get together and open a bar somewhere far away from me. The impotence of my rage is also frustrating. Dr. Egon Spengler should never have been derailed from his head drilling experiment by Dr. Peter Venkman. He was probably on the verge of the discovering the cure for the “darkness” that afflict so many of us on a daily basis. Oh, well. I guess I’ll just wait till GleeMonex is perfected by Dr. Chris Cooper at Rorito Pharmaceuticals

[lex-man]

Sleep vs Gym vs Darkness

For the past few weeks I've been waking up in the middle of the night without any provocation. I would try to fall back to sleep but couldn't which angered me, which kept me awake even longer. I've been trying to get to the gym but by the time my alarm went off I was too exhausted to go and would sleep for another hour and a half. because of that I've been arriving to work late. Last night I went to sleep my normal time and woke up because of the alarm. I laid in bed surprised by this and thought that today would be a great day to go to the gym. I fought my darkness for the resolve to get up. I won. I got out of bed and put on my cute workout clothes and jumped in the car. That is the biggest win against my darkness in a long time. It felt good.

[lex-man]

Alexis Henriquez Let's begin with what it means to be a mutant. Depending on the power or how it manifest, becoming a mutant during puberty can either be a blessing or a curse. For Scott Summers it was both. The ability to fire an uncontrollable solid beam of hard light from his eyes have been used to save countless of lives but because of trauma as a kid his only was of controlling the optic blast is a ruby quarts glasses. For the rest of his life he no one can ever look into his eyes. And his world will forever be in a crimson haze. Now what it means to be an X-Man. A group of mutants who fights to protect a world that hates and fears them. Scott dawned the costume and role of leader and hero. He was Charles Xavier's first student and the first one to take his teachings to heart. That one day human and mutant can live in harmony. With the codename Cyclops, Scott wakes up every morning to stand up to bigotry and other mutants who will use their powers for evil. His powers are uncontrollable and all his life he has worked to control his life. At a young age he took on the monumental task of being a symbol to all mutants that a better world can exist but it has to be fought for. In his mind, he needed to be the most perfect mutant for other mutants to look up to and follow as well for humans not to be frightened of him and to listen to his message. Inside he is a rage bursting at the seems with the weight of an entire race on his shoulders. Outside he is the epitome of a hero. In the mythos of the X-Men books Cyclops is the main figure. From a child leader with a team of five to an adult with an army, he is one of the great team leaders in fiction. He assess everyone's strength and weakness when on first meeting them. He can turn any situation to his advantage. His emotional shortcomings make him a unique character amongst snarling open nerves and snarky quip-aholocs. He tries so hard to keep his inner self reserved that his mistakes are when his emotions gets the better of his judgment. Which are impeccable.  Personally and as a writer, there will no X-Men without him. Since the beginning he has been the forefront of 90% of all X-Men stories. First he was the teen leader keeping a team of outcasts together to fight evil. Then in his early twenties he rose to the protagonist of the stories. From leading an all new X-Man team to save his old to being the love interest to a godlike being. And when he left the team, they wondered aimlessly around the world till his crazy "wife" and mad scientist stalker made him the focal point of hell on earth. Getting older he has become a soundboard for creators to bounce other characters off of. Without him, Wolverine wouldn't have been so popular. He's the ultimate survivor in and out of comics. With him the book is fantastic, without him the book is directionless. Just like his optic beam of concussive force, he is a beacon that if used correctly, all other characters better get out of his way.

[lex-man]

Semi Dreams

It began with me getting into an old elevator with an operator. A sexy Hispanic couple came into the elevator with me.

I had short hair, no glasses, a white corset which made it seem like I had A cups, tight blue jeans and black high heels.

The elevator operator pulled down a lever and the elevator started to spin as it went up. The Hispanic woman’s skirt went up to reveal a rock hard penis and cum dripping. She finished herself off as I watched. The elevator stopped and we got off on our floor.

I went looking for my roommate by knocking on different doors. The first three rooms had topless beautiful big breasted women with hard nipples opening the door and saying that I was at the wrong room. All the girls were females in my life.

The last door same thing, a topless girl with large breasts answers but this one recognized me, it was my friend AW, and told me to wait in her room. She leaves and out of the closet my cousine come wearing a wedding dress.

I notice her collection of superhero figures and we talk about our favorite as she changes in front of me. I stare at her tits and pussy as she puts on jeans and a t-shirt. No bra or panties. Her nipples are hard and I get turned on looking at them.

As we talked, her roommate shows up and tells me that my roommate is waiting for me. She rubs her tits and tells me to come back soon. I leave and enter my room. I change to something more comfortable but all I can think about is going back to her room and then I wake up.

[lex-man]

Several times in my life I have stood in the bathroom in complete darkness and stared in the mirror letting my imagination go free.

[lex-man]

Quick Fantasy. 11.19.15 2:40pm

It begins at my cousin's house. There's a get together but who's there isn't important. I'm touching you all over and you're getting hot. We go into the kitchen away from prying eyes. You move your hand down your pants and play with your pussy. I rub my cock from the outside but I can take it anymore. I pull down your pants and underwear and get down on my knees. I lick your pussy till you cum. And that's when I came.

[lex-man]

[lex-man]

Kiss From A Rose on My Lips, Duh

           I’m going to say it. I love kissing. My lips touching someone else’s lips. I love it. I never get tired of kissing. If I could kiss everyone who I want to it would be a wonderful world. Now, I don’t want to kiss everyone but most people. When I meet someone the first thing I notice is their lips and I imagine myself embracing them and giving a longing kiss. Tongue are awesome too. Lips and tongue. What a great pair. Lips upon mine and tongue in my mouth is very hot. I can think of the people in my life who I would like to kiss and sometimes I do. I’m surprised not more of them notice me staring at their lips. I love to kiss. From a peck to making out. I love to kiss. Wish they all knew this and the next time I see them they give me a big wet one. Because I love to kiss.

[lex-man]

In the Mirror of My Obsessed Mind

           Obsession is usually seen as a negative character trait. It is true that too much of anything is bad for you but what if it’s all in your mind. My obsessions are just that, thoughts that never cease to be in the forefront of my brain. Once an obsession takes a hold of me it does not let go until an outside force rips it from its cage. That’s when reality sets in and shows me that the thing I was obsessing about was never mine. From movies, television shows, comics, foods, sleep, comedy and/or clothes. But the one thing that takes my mind to dizzying heights are women (and a couple of guys).

           Many females have entered my mind and fell into the obsession trap. I don’t recall the first one of these poor souls but the earliest that I can remember is an Asian girl in my English class when I was a freshman in high school. YK sat in the seat in front of me with her beautiful brown eyes and long lovely hair which I would stroke and play with, which she let me for an insane reason on her part. Having her sit before me for that one hour was the best part of that school year. She would turn and talk about her life as she doodled her name and initials on my folder. Her pubescent B cups under her mother approved tops kept my eyes and loins strait as an arrow. The next years in school she became a cheerleader and too cool for me and ignored me in the hall. Seven years later she came to my work and remembered me and of course I remembered her. She said hi and I said hello, she left to never darken my mind again. Except when my mind is cast back to those times.

           The next one was a very popular guy in school. I forget his name but it might have been Ryan. He was funny and very good looking. Great body with a laid back bad boy attitude who was always in trouble but all the students loved him. I believe he was mixed and had sexy blue eyes. I only had one class with him. While I sat in the front or middle he always sat in the back with his groupies which I wish I was one. His curly hair was always cool as a crown of awesomeness on top of his head. Maybe I talked to him once but it slips my mind. Don’t know what ever happened to him after graduation but I sometimes think of him as my first male crush.

           Next was my true first romantic relationship. BW was fit and funny and silly with an edge to her like she walked on a path that no one else was allowed to walk on. A soccer player who was the first one to let me see naked. Again blue eyes entranced me and her crooked smile made me smile. Her skin was smooth and pale. Her breasts small and very perky which I tried to put entirely in my mouth. One night I asked her how she masturbated and she said that riding the banister of her waterbed made her cum hard. That image is stuck in my head forever.

           After graduation, a friend of mine took me to a coffee shop across from the university and I saw a strikingly dark creature. I talked to her once but never got a name. In hindsight she reminded me of Helena Bonham Carter with glasses. Her black curls cascaded from her head as her dark eyes hid behind sexy rimmed glasses. My buddy knew of this and would drive me to the coffee place to see her but always I pussied out. All week she was on my mind just for me to stare at her from afar. After the school year I never saw her again. Running theme.

           That summer after losing my dark angel, a few of my other friends found a different coffee shop and that’s where I met another of my obsessions. MW was sitting with her friends as they laughed which is a mating call for me. I kept staring at her and my two friends pushed me to talk to her. I did walk to their table but didn’t talk to only her as I addressed all of them. Her sense of humor and her smarts kept me coming as her friend while her beautiful blue eyes, her sexy smile and her giant breasts kept me cuming every night alone in my bed. Every weekend we would hang out with other friends at the coffee shop. She would complain about her body hurting so I would offer to massage her which would start with her back and neck then move to her legs. First her calves and slowly move up to her thighs. I became bold one night and moved my hands between her legs and rubbed the back of my fingers on the crotch of her jeans. She never mentioned it so I kept doing it, in public, in front of all our friends but no one noticed…I assume. Later she began dating on of our friends which hurt me but that didn’t last long and then she did had sex with a guy who I was jealous of his sexual conquests. That’s when I had enough of my self-inflicting torture and left to California.

           In North Hollywood, I met a Mexican girl who was tough, funny, sexy and very metal. She had dark hair and eyes and always wore a leather biker jacket. She always laughed at my jokes and loved to tell me everything about herself. Even her sexual exploits. That was when I decided to live without a filter and say whatever was on my mind. I told her that I was extremely attracted to her and she loved it but did not feel the same. She found a guy who was a metal as her and they moved in together. I felt home sick and used the excuse of finding someone back home to move again. Never saw my Metal Mexican Meja again.

           Back home, I started dating someone who later became my wife. I was in love with her but never obsessed. Never did I ever feel the way that I felt for YK, BW or MW. But I stayed even when I met another female to obsess about. LMV was related to a relation of mine and she just moved to my home town. We hit it off quickly. She was cute and quirky and the obsession hit hard. It was fifteen years ago and still going strong. I have talked to her almost every week with me hitting on her every other week with her deflecting or straight up batting them down. Once in a while she would tell me that those advances are annoying but I keep doing them. Last time I saw her she was Wednesday Adams and I fell for her all over again.

           My wife-to-be brought me to her home town once where I met her younger sister. She is the only one who went from sexual obsession to family obsession. I once spent the night at her home and as I woke up I realized that both my future wife was awake and out of the room. Also, I had a giant hard on. Pretending to be asleep, I moved on to my back and waited for her sister to walk in and see it but it never happened. I went to the bathroom and it went away. She moved in with us and that’s when she went from obsession to family. In my eyes she became my sister. I am still obsessed with her and I am not blind to her very sexy body but the obsession is only for her to be in my life as my sister. Hearing about her day, her inner thoughts and her sexual exploits are my favorite things about knowing her. Looking into her big brown eyes and following her pouty lips as she speaks. Her breasts are awesome to see in her shirts and sexy tops. We were drunk and kissed once. It’s like being attracted to my sister but not wanting to have sex with her.

           My sister got me a job at the monorail station where I met another Asian girl who I worked with but her name slips my mind. She was cute and sexy and always wore very tight shirts. We always talked about her boyfriend and her sex life. It was cool for how it lasted. A few months after working with her I was promoted and again I never saw her again.

           My promotion took me into the hotel business and that’s where I met KL, a very busty half Asian half Italian and very beautiful. She hit me like a ton of bricks. One of the first conversations I had with her was about sexy. We closed alone at work and she would always unbutton her shirt to show lots of cleavage for more tips…which always worked. My texts to her were like soft porn. She told me what she was always wearing or not wearing. How much cleavage she was showing and when and how she masturbated. This lasted for years until one day she decided stop. Every time we talk I want to ask her but I don’t. She is one the of the few who stayed in my life.

           In a new job I met another Mexican, MT, a raw and funny girl with the biggest lips that I have ever had the pleasure to kiss. We went on two dates and she ended it. My obsession with her was too much and she shut all communication with me. She has become one of my main player in my fantasies, basically my avatar in all them. She’s been with every female and male I fantasize. Once in a while I’m in them but mostly it’s her.

           A friend turned me on to his girlfriend’s roommate. She has beautiful eyes and a very sexy mouth. Love the way she smiles and her kisses were like addicting. The way she talks about sex, particularly giving head is my favorite. She wore glasses for me once and that became one of my fantasies quickly. I’m obsessed with her giving head to me which never happened. Her breasts are nice as well but her lips are very, very nice.

           A ghost from the past came back to my life. In a weird way I started talking to MW again. Every feeling that I had about her came flooding back. Her eyes, her humor, her mouth and her breasts turn me on. We began talking and my obsession grew and grew till it grew into love. This is the first time that I have been in love with the person that I am obsessed with. And it’s the first time that my obsession is in love with me. Never have I been in this situation. It is a great feeling. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m addicted to her and she is always on my mind. While MT is my avatar, MW is my main focus. All my fantasies now have her as my sexual conquest with MT in my roll and the others as costars.

           As it is a curse and pleasure to have my mind force me to obsess over so many women. Many of them who did not feel the same. My mind full of them every waking moment. Some still in my life and others never to be seen again. One who is my soul mate, one who is the love of my life, one who is only a fantasy, one who I want to be and one who I look up to. But all wonderful women who I will always obsess with for the rest of my life.

[lex-man]

Attack of the 50 foot Anxiety

           Many things from my childhood I wished that I still had. Toys, stress free and my iron stomach but the thing that has stayed with me is the anxiety episodes plaguing me. Since I can remember anxiety would creep in my life and stop me from enjoying life. For the longest I believed that it was me being weak and not positive about life. When I would go through these episodes, I forced it down and focused on other things that made me feel good. I would sleep for hours, masturbate everywhere, watch TV or movies all day and/or over eat till I felt sick. Comedy became an obsession because of the wonderful feeling of laughter that helped me forget the sadness. Then I figured out that I can make others laugh and that also took the bad thoughts away. I also became very apathetic and tricked myself to have false emotions which I would pick when I needed them. I still can’t tell if how an emotion that I am feeling is real or what I have created. I’s still working on that. What I didn’t realize is I was keeping my anxiety in a small hole inside me which would spill out in those different ways.

           When high school came along, another symptom of my denial showed up. Being alone in the dark in silence with my thoughts for hours was my brain coping with my sickness. It still happens to this day where being in bed catatonic wasting away wanting my will to get me out. But of course it takes hours for it to actually take control of my body and me up and going to start my day. Before the internet came into my life, I would keep my eyes closed, sometimes listening to music, and wallow in my anxiety attacks. Thoughts of how I could change would rise to goals to aspire to but they quickly became unattainable which to be taunted by. I never fulfilled them.

The actual experience of an anxiety attack is a hard thing to explain. I can tell you the physical feelings and how it kind of feels like but never the true sensations that I wish I could. Chest feels like someone is sitting on it from the inside. My heart feels a thousand times bigger. My arms feel disconnected and my legs shake with the mixed message from my brain of fight or flight. Speaking of my brain, it has the crazy experience that it is falling away from the real world. Like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, everything gets further and further away. My thoughts race through my mind and focus on negativity. The things that I don’t have and the things that I want. The things that went bad in my life and the way my life will never improve. The futility of life and how everyone who has ever lived, are living or will live will be tortured with the same thoughts as me.

No one around me knows that I have anxiety. They believe that I am either a happy person who has the same problems as everyone around me. That the only reason that I sometimes stay at home instead of going out or not cleaning or being overweight is because I’m lazy. They look down on my actions, or lack thereof, and condemn me with accusatory looks. I see them and act indifferent with a quip about it’s not being a big deal but inside I cry out in anger at my incompetence of dealing with my anxiety. And again I shut down inside.

I try to fill the void and darkness with the things that make my brain turn off for a few moments. That is sexual gratification. I have a few friends that I push this upon. They play along a few times and they all get sick of it and tell me to stop. I ask what they are wearing and I always want details. Flattery spews out of me with romantic platitudes and sexual innuendoes. I ask about their sexual history and experiences. From their first time to their last. Like always they get sick of my questions and ask me to stop. A couple of them I have done this in person. One let me watch her change and feel her up but she has stopped me because I kept wanting more. Several times I have masturbated while talking to them on the phone without their knowledge. Just the sound of their voice helped me orgasm. And it has helped me forget about my anxiety episodes until the next time. Like a bad rash, you do anything for it to go but you know that when you least expect it, it’ll be back.

The moment that the episode finishes, I feel like my old self again. A depleted version of myself but at least I’m not freaking out. Everything goes back to normal. My normal but normal non the less. Then an hour, a day, a week, a month goes by and it’ll be back for another round. I live through it alone and survive alone. I have expressed these moments of attacks to a few close people which keep an understanding mind. I appreciate every single one of them. And they know who they are. I love them deeply for this and it’s something that I can never repay. Thank you all.

[lex-man]

Gratification for the Sake of…: Part Three

           One of the best feeling is when something awesome goes to the next level of awesomeness. My first girlfriend, BW, opened me up to phone sex (this was waaaaay back in the old days when there were no cell phones, imagine that millennials) and I received a new drug. It became easier to fantasize because of my previous knowledge of her naked body, the noises that she was making and her description of her acts. The one image that has stayed in my mind is of her grinding her vagina on her blanket covered waterbed frame until she creamed her panties. Loved it. That is burned into my brain until I die.

           My next adventure into phone sex was a girl that I met through a friend who was three years my junior. Conversation began with questions and learning about each other but quickly landed on sexual subjects. One night I told her how turned on I she made me and we started describing what we did to our private parts. Almost every night we sexed on the phone. I lived in the same room with my brother so those nights I ended up in the bathroom with my phone to get off. Several times a family member would knock on the door to ask what I was doing with the phone and the weak of so not to disturb anyone was left alone. And so was I. That romance ended after she saw me in person, my self-image was shattered.

           The next few years were more of alone time when pleasuring myself. No relationship, face to face or on the phone. My memory worked overtime with every fine ass girl that met my eye. They went into the spank bank and that same night would become part of my haram. A few were my friends, one amazing female in particular, MW, who knows this and is still on my mind till this day. Many different stories were in my head, all simple so to focus on the sex but enough to keep them all diverse. Some were living in the same house and becoming sexual in a natural way. Others were about one girl seducing another for my pleasure. All the time one person was missing…me. I didn’t realize for years why that was but that’s for another story.

           Next was my long-term relationship, LC, who I met online so for the first month we phone sexeded all the time. Even after we met but before we moved in together we used the phone for our pleasure thousands of time (and that’s a small exaggeration). The moment she moved in I naturally moved on to going back to using my imagination on myself. Even though I was getting vagina on a regular basis the wanting to touch myself kept creeping up on me ending with the my ultimate surrender. For over ten years it was vagina-hand, vagina-hand, vagina-hand. And when she asked me, a thousand times, why I played with myself when I had her…all I can say is because it felt good.

           Even with my long-term, many women who graced my presence was added to a rotating cast of thousands. Friends and strangers without their knowledge helped me get off. A handful of them stayed in the long run with many coming in and out over the years. My first girlfriend BW, the fiend MW who I mentioned earlier, several coworkers; KL, MT and newer friends like AW, KT.

           As my long-term relationship was coming to a close I found two others online who was as obsessed with the phone game as much as I was. One lived in California and the other in New York. Pictures were exchanged, stories were told and orgasms were heard. The girl in California twice called while she had sex with her boyfriend for me to listen. The first time was very clandestine as she left the phone next to her while the second time she told her man that she was calling me and they both worked it for my pleasure. That was the beginning of another sexual kink of mine which has not come back since.

           The end of my long-term came with finding a loophole in my favorite pastime. A friend who became a fascination of mine, KT, was the first patient of the experiment. We would talk for hours on the phone about life. Her voice was so arousing that I began playing with myself as she spoke without her knowledge. The traits that I learned in school of orgasming in silence helped me tremendously. It happened many times with her, weeks later we began with consenting phone sex but before that it was ninja masturbation for me. After that experiment I have done this with several friends and to this day they don’t know (or at least haven’t brought the subject up). Whew.

           Recently I found a porn actress who has occupied my mind and my hard ons. Bailey Jay is the most beautiful “shemale” that I have ever seen. She of course went to the cast who would fuck the other girls in my imagination. Once I faced the truth about my alternative sexuality (feminine/bi heterosexual) for the first time in my life I began to add myself in my own fantasies. Breakthrough. AW was a girl who I found extremely sexy and when she shot me down, got a boyfriend, broke up and then reconnected with me; became my close confidant and sexual desire. She fed my fantasy while also keeping me at bay because she did not share my sexual attraction with her. She did though, let me masturbate while on the phone listening to her voice and once she undressed to her bra and panties as I played with myself. I sent her several videos and pictures of me erect with her saying she found it arousal to a point. It was good enough for me.

           My friend from fifteen years ago, MW (in a long-term relationship), came back into my life adding to my obsession of her from all those years ago. It started innocent enough with us talking about life and at one point our mutual attraction for each other popped up (as did other things). I convinced her to send me pictures and I sent her several dozens and videos for her pleasure. We talked about what we would do with each other and what we did to each other alone on our beds. One night we were turning each other on and I asked her to call me which she did and we had great phone sex. Beautiful voice and the sound of her pleasure was probably the best that I have ever heard. She will always be in my memory for her great sexy orgasms. Just a bit obsessed. I’m ok.

Now when I fantasize in the shower or on my bed, four women form my past come into mind, most of the time they are lesbianing it up or fucking my brains out. KL with her sexy lips and large breasts. MT and her full Hispanic lips and mesmerizing brown eyes. AW and her orgasm inducing eyes and one of the sexiest mouths ever. And MW whose wonderful personality, deep blue eyes and sexy body keeps me coming. Last but not least, the only one in my mind that I have not met, Baily Jay and her large dick sexy dick. She can use it very well. But that’s for another story