I JUST FOUND COMEDIC GOLD ON A PORN WEBSITE OMFG
I WAS LOOKING UP PORN TO SHOW MY ROOMMATE JAMES DEEN AND I FOUND A GUY WHO CALLS HIMSELF LIMERICK LARRY AND HE WRITES POEMS ABOUT THE PORN VIDEOS
I CAN’T BREATHE
This is fucking brilliant.
all my porn comments
are neat, elegant haikus
thats just how i roll
“Last night I made a really impromptu decision to drive three and a half hours from my college to the base my boyfriend is stationed on. This was because i don’t have friday classes and didn’t have to be at work until 2pm, even though he went back on duty at 5am because this might be the last chance to see him before deployment.
So i got there a little before midnight and we went into the hotel room and he wasted zero time. Usually when we have sex it’s very balanced and maybe focused more on him because i looooove pleasing him. This time was way different. First he had me strip him of his cammies (the only thing hotter than a man in uniform is that man while it’s coming off) as soon as that happened he was on me.
At first he said he wanted to thank me for driving all the way down there and slowly started teasing my clit and fingering me. He really had me going when he discovered this little spot on my stomach that takes my horniness from a two to a ten. That’s when he decided to have some fun. he went from thanking me to “punishing you for all the teasing over text, snapchat, and skype.”
i mean hey, bad acts need punishment, right?
so he switched off between running his fingertips over that spot and rubbing my clit really hard. then he found when he hits my clit a certain way i involuntarily shake. he was now hitting that and making me BEG him to fuck me. then when he finally did he went for a couple thrusts then pulled almost all the way out just to distract me by my stomach spot and slam back into me
he went on doing this for like 10 mins until he came. but i wasn’t so lucky. he kept me shaking for another 45 minutes. at one point he asked me how many times i had came and i honestly lost count. they all started blending together into one delicious feeling.
from now on, i will listen to my brain when it tells me to go places. (also, thank you marine corps for taking him away so we feel the need to fuck like there’s no tomorrow in the few moments we get together.)”
“A while ago I had a sleepover with my best friend. She was asleep and I was awake and we were sleeping in a double bed. Then she rolled over & put her leg around me, and her hand fell on my boob - in her sleep. I got SO turned on. I’m not gay or bi, and I don’t think of her in a romantic light or anything… but I would completely love to have sex with her in the future. I always end up thinking of her when I fantasise by myself but I feel a little guilty.”
Aw, don’t feel guilty. Snuggling with people is pretty hot! As is having your boobs touched… and yep, if you’ve read this blog for a while you’ll know fantasies about girl-friends are really common too.
Also, "in her sleep"? Well, maybe ;)
how i discovered pleasure, got messed up by religion, had to deal with painful sex and eventually started to get over it all
“When I was twelve, I had my first orgasm by sitting cross-legged on my bed and gently scritching at my clit and inner labia through my undies. It wasn’t going anywhere but for some reason I saw it through, and then WHOOPS, massive first-time orgasm. After that, I had lots of fun experimenting, not really even knowing what I was doing. I cut up underwear to make thongs and nipple-less bras (I didn’t even have boobs yet and I’d certainly never seen porn), I tied myself to my bed, humped pillows, played imaginary dom/sub and enacted fantasies of being an older man’s sex slave—all sorts of things I didn’t even know other people did! It was wonderful. I even squirted once, before I knew what squirting was.
Unfortunately, when I was fourteen I decided to give church another try (I’d been skiving off Mormonism for about six years). The Mormons in the area where I lived were nothing like your stereotypical Utah Mormons; they were mostly hard scientists and engineers who had converted to Mormonism as adults, and so they didn’t buy into any of the voodoo. In fact, they were pretty much normal people, and my church experience was by no means tainted by cultishness. But while they (apparently) talked to the boys about porn and masturbation, I guess they didn’t think young women ever felt those urges. And because no one in my life was acknowledging it, I slowly began to believe it must be seedy and somehow sinful, and so eventually I went to my bishop to confess and seek forgiveness.
In that church, if you confess your sins, you do it face-to-face with your confessor. My bishop was also the father of my best church-friend, and I had to sit there and tell him in humiliating detail about my “sins”. At the end, he obviously didn’t know how to respond—I don’t think he’d ever had to deal with this before, certainly not with his daughters’ friends. He said, “Well, how does all this make you feel?”
"Um…I don’t know, guilty?" I said uncertainly, hoping he would reassure me and help put my mind at ease. I was sure that it was only the overwhelming silence and sense of taboo that was making me suspect I must be sinning. It’s not like I was hurting anybody.
"Well, if you feel guilty about it, then that must be your conscience telling you to stop," he said, clearly relieved to have arrived at an answer. He blessed me and we prayed together, and I quit cold turkey.
Fast forward many years. I became an adult, quit the church, fell in love and became sexually active. Only now, unlike when I was a free-and-easy twelve-year old experimenting without any preconceptions, my sexual identity was buried under encrustations of guilt and self-loathing that I couldn’t will away. On top of that, I also had undiagnosed vulvar vestibulitis for the first several years of sexual activity. I didn’t understand why I dreaded sex physically when my imagination wanted it so much. I feared that my dislike of it would destroy my relationship, and it was a huge toll on my partner. I didn’t even register my vulvar pain as “pain”, I just assumed that sex was like that for everyone and I was being a baby, or else that (as my sex-therapist told me) I just had unreasonable expectations and all those stories of aggressive sexual enjoyment are nothing but a huge conspiracy propagated by competitive women.
Eventually, I learned to identify that my dread of sex was caused by real, physical, quantifiable pain, and not merely that I suck. I went to a doctor, ditched the sex therapist, and learned about how to make it better. It turns out that one of the best things I can do as a vulvar-vestibulitis-haver is to bang out a few g-spot orgasms on my own before attempting penetration, so that everything gets loose and excited down there. That’s “homework” I am happy to do.
I guess the point of all this is that so much of sex has to do with the mind, with the baggage I brought into the equation. I can’t undo those damaging years in church. I can’t (and wouldn’t want to) undo the 800-mile bike tours without a properly fitted lady saddle that gave me vulvar vestibulitis as a teen. But you know what? There was a time when I hadn’t heard anything about masturbation, I had never had an authority figure confirm that if I wanted to feel guilty about something then I probably should feel guilty about it—and those were some of the best orgasms of my life. I know it is possible for me to feel that kind of liberating sexual pleasure again. And until then, I’ll be over here doing my homework.”
that was really great. thanks so much for sharing.
“First thing you should know about me, I get off on a bit of pain. Second, I wear jean shorts more than anything else.
One day I was plucking my eyebrows in my bathroom. The sink sticks about a foot and a half from the wall so I had to bend over it to get close to the mirror to see all the little hairs I was plucking. Anyway bending over caused the seam of my shorts to press right up against my clit. It felt really good, and I started moving my hips around to keep friction and pressure. But then the constant light pain of plucking my eyebrows combined to make it even more intense… and I came so hard I fell onto the sink.”
“So I’m a college senior and this year is my first to have a private dorm room. So obviously in celebration I bought myself my first vibrator (a Doc Johnson rabbit, do recommend). I found your blog this morning, and, being a very goal-oriented person, when I saw all the posts about squirting I knew what I was doing tonight! The first time I tried, no dice, but I was so turned on from reading your blog all day I tried again. This time, I would stimulate my G-spot for a while and then pull out like you suggested. I started to feel some trickles so I looked through your squirting tag. The last time, when I went back in everything was much more intense. I felt the “need to pee” feeling stronger than ever and just went with it, vibrator still in, and HOLY SHIT. So much fluid gushed out of me. I wet a huge spot through two towels and the futon I was sitting on. The stimulation didn’t feel much different from normal, but I was so satisfied that I had managed it, my orgasm hit super hard! Thanks for a great night!”
I think you and the rabbit deserve most of the credit! But you are welcome :)
my blog is now 100 pages long!
“Personally I have a difficult time getting off unless I lay on my stomach. Well, one day my partner and I were in bed, but I knew he needed sleep for work, so I rolled onto my stomach and started touching myself… but I guess he heard me, so he started grabbing my ass, and I got off like immediately. Then he was full-on awake, came over me and started fucking me from behind… while I was still playing with myself. Since, then, I’ve found that I can even achieve orgasm while laying on my back, as long as I’m teasing myself while we’re having sex. (Which my partner thinks is really hot.)
So girls, try playing with yourself while you’re having sex. Then you get the best of both worlds!”