A SEXUAL BACKGROUND:
I have to admit that I am drawn to the most sexually promiscuous situations possible. Sometimes these urges lead me to an influx of obsessive regret when I contemplate what is morally acceptable. But I can't help myself. And in hindsight, maybe I enjoy my sexual edge. The goal is that I need to find others who share the same enthusiasm.
I'm not much of a relationship person. I am twenty-years-old and have only had three girlfriends. The first was when I was sixteen; this relationship was based on a romantic connection, not sexual interaction. The second was when I was eighteen; this girl and I had sex at least three hundred times in the ten months that we were together. The third girl did nothing but depress me with her dishonesty; I was nineteen and learned the perils of a faulty relationship when I discovered that she cheated on me the first week we were together during our three-month relationship.
Despite the existence of these three relationships, I have a huge problem with commitment: my eyes become closed for other girls, but there is a sexual block in my hormones. Apparently my sex drive is at its utmost capacity when I am single. And when I am single I am a machine, as I feel there should be no limit for one's sexual involvement. Be it two partners or two thousand partners in a lifetime, the limit should be according to that individual's personal standards. When I was in high school, I had sex with eight girls before my third relationship.
I have been commuting to college for the past year and a half. In this time I haven't found a connection with any women in my school, and I haven't kept in touch with anyone from my grade in high school. This social isolation has driven my hormones into an insatiable rage. It has been four months since the last time I've had sex. As a result, I am forced to masturbate at least five times a day. It's a wonder why I haven't been able to find someone to appreciate my thick, seven and a half inch cock and already expansive wealth of sexual knowledge.
Most of the girls I've met at the college dorm at the school. Unfortunately they have maintained their high school mentalities, and since I live at home, I notice that the level of their immaturity doesn't match the level of intellectuality that my independence has instilled. It isn't just the freshmen. As their years increase, as the level of freedom granted upon their lives expands, their minds maintaining the same youthful naïveté, I grow depressed, longing for an older woman with a more experienced worldview to teach me something, especially in the realm of sexuality.
THE SUPERMARKET THURSDAY 1.18.07
Since I live at home and don't have a job, there are curtain chores that my parents have bestowed upon me, such as weekly visits to the supermarket for food and groceries. There is nothing that I hate more than shopping, especially for groceries. Walking aimlessly through the aisles and refrigerated areas, such as the dairy department, where I am currently searching for milk, freezing my balls off—it's all very mundane and holds few rewards. I find the milk I've been looking for and bend down to retrieve it. When I rise, I accidentally bump into a woman standing close behind me.
"Sorry," I say instinctively, before realizing who the woman is: my friend Steve from high school's mom Debbie, who all the guys called mom in place of a formal title or the too-casual usage of her first name.
"Hey, Jerry!" she says, pulling me in tightly for a hug after I place the milk in my shopping cart.
Beneath her brown turtleneck sweater I can feel her huge breasts press against my chest. They're implants, but somehow that adds to their appeal.
"How have you been?"
"Hey mom. I've been alright," I say, grateful that she is holding the hug for so long.
She pulls away but holds my right hand with both of hers.
"How's school? I haven't heard from you in so long."
"Honestly, it sucks," I say.
She laughs and I smile shyly.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" she asks, releasing my hand and pulling her stylized brown hair behind her ear.
I look into her deep hazel eyes.
"No," I say after a short pause.
"That's unfortunate," she says, frowning playfully.
"Sure," I say, quickly taking note of the shapely thighs beneath her jeans.
She is wearing boots made of snakeskin with low heels.
"Why don't you stop by the house some time?" she asks.
"When?" I ask.
"Any time. Jeff has been busy at the office till 9PM every night, Steve and Brit are at school, and I'm home all alone."
"You don't work anymore?"
"They laid off half the company," she says.
There is no indication of regret in her voice.
"Here," she says, pulling a business card out of her purse.
She scribbles her number and gives it to me.
"Give me a call: the sooner the better."
"Sure," I say, accepting the card and stuffing it in a pant pocket.
"See you soon," she says, kissing my cheek and giving me one last wholesome hug.
I watch her walk away and hope that no one notices my half-hard cock.
MEMORY FROM HIGH SCHOOL:
"Check this one out," Steve says to Brian and Jay, referring to the dirt bikes on the computer screen in the basement.
The dim overhead bulbs and glow of the computer screen and TV on the other side of the room offer the only sources of illumination in the room. Bored, I lie on my stomach and watch a TV show in which I'm not particularly interested.
"Why is your butt crack hanging out, Jerry?"
I turn around and find Debbie standing over me.
"Sorry," I say before pulling my pants up.
"I'm just joking," she says, gently smacking my ass when no one is looking. "Does anyone mind if I work out down here?"
No one responds; they are too busy looking at the dirt bikes on the computer.
"I guess not," she says to herself.
Turning the treadmill on, Debbie starts jogging slowly, practically a brisk walk. I watch her from the corner of my eye, amazed that she is willing to walk in front of us wearing a sports bra revealing her huge tits and short jean shorts that barely conceal her ass. Her tits bounce freely as my cock grows hard.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," she says, winking wryly at me.
Embarrassed, I look away and shift my attention back to the TV.
THE SHOWER THURSDAY 1.18.2007
I jack off my cock with powerful force, my cock pulsing in my hand, imagining myself fucking Debbie from behind in this very shower. I have been obsessing over her insistence at the store about seeing me soon. I cradle my balls in one hand as I blast a stream of semen onto the tiles of the floor, imagining Debbie turning around to accept my load on her tits before spreading it with her hands and licking them, sucking her fingers clean. I get out of the shower and realize that my lust is still flowing strong, so I jack off again in my room and then go to sleep.
AN IMPORTANT PHONE CALL FRIDAY 1.19.07
I don't bother waking up for school today. My parents both go to work before I leave in the morning, so I can get away with sleeping in whenever I want. But by 12:32PM, my eyes are open and staring at the ceiling to adjust to the day. I'm not hungry. All I can think about is Debbie and the business card waiting in my pant pocket from yesterday. Finally, I rise from the bed, too tired to even get hard, and get dressed.
After breakfast I sit down on the couch in my living room and stare at the business card, the numbers drawn with a feminine hand, Debbie's hand. I can imagine the deep purple of her nail polish with the thought of her stroking my cock, smiling, the red lipstick glistening on her lips.
Anxiety takes hold of me and I can't stand the idea of the opportunity slipping from my grasp. I pull out my cell phone and dial the number. After a few rings the machine comes on and my heart sinks. I sit still and stare at the wall where the light breaks through the window, the windowsill blocking the light to cast a perfect shadow. The phone rings suddenly and relief watches over me when I realize that it is the number that I just called.
"Hello?" I answer.
"Who is this?" a woman's voice on the other line asks.
"It's Jerry," I say hesitantly.
"Oh, hey Jerry!" she exclaims.
I can't help but smile.
"How are you?"
