Half Asleep Wet Dream

The other night I had a wet dream, which is a rare but nice occurrence for someone my age. I remember hearing about wet dreams, nocturnal emissions, in sex ed class. That they happened naturally and without awareness, that they were caused by the increasing libido of the teenage mind, and that they went away over time.

Thing is, I still have them every few years, and that for me they have always been vivid, semi-conscious hallucinations, half-asleep dreams in which I seem to be fully aware of what's going on, even to the point of knowing that I am dreaming, to the point of being able to actively guide the dream, and even be able to return to the place I left off after waking up, realizing that I am about to come. My mind knows exactly what is happening, and the wet dream will inevitably end up having a situation where I can literally see and feel my cock plunging into whatever beautiful moist warmth that my imagination has crafted for me.

I'm not sure I have ever had a gay wet dream.

My dream the other night was about a woman that I never had. She was a coworker for a few years, and despite our obvious and palpable chemistry, we never hooked up. She is probably the biggest unfulfilled crush of my lifetime. My longing for her was so strong for so many years, watching her being treated like shit over and over by her abusive boyfriend, knowing that I could give her so much more -- but never have her -- is a tragic pain that I carry with me to this very day. She is the ultimate lost opportunity, because we were totally made for each other. Only problem was her severely low self esteem prevented her from not thinking me a liar when I finally told her how great I thought she was. I finally figured out that she needed her asshole boyfriend to confirm how she felt about herself, that he simply fed her poor self image. It was like she needed to be berated to match her own self worth, that a guy like me would just short circuit her mind, because my compliments and affections did not match how she felt about herself. When I told her she was beautiful, she could not believe that I was telling the truth. She is still with that asshole now almost a full decade later.

So I took her in my dreams instead. The other night I looked into her sweet brown eyes, felt the bottomless drop of my gut with the curl of her playful smile, caressed her tender yet firmly built little frame. In my dream, as clear as reality itself, I flipped her over and spread her legs, took my rock hard cock and parted her cunt with my tip, and fucked her on the bed. In the dream I could see her pussy, I could see and feel my cock plunging in and out, I could hear her sweet voice begging me for more. Just as I was about to climax, I half-woke up, and yet still asleep in her arms, still inside of her in my imagination, yet awake enough to have the wherewithal to check to make sure my cock was still tidily tucked into my underwear so as not to soil the sheets, I fell back into sleep -- fell back into her cunt and spurted load after load deep inside of her.

Lame and Distant but Still Horny

This week's been a struggle to focus energy on this blog. I wanted to be able to have an insightful, meaningful, or deeply personal post at least once a week, but my reservoir of emotions and self-awareness seems to have dried up for the past week.

I haven't really had any profound revelations to share lately, not to mention my wireless router decided to block all traffic and I can't figure out why, so I've been spending less time online because I have to crouch in a corner on a 3-foot LAN cable to log on to the friggin internet. My normal routine of taking the laptop to whatever part of the house or yard that inspires me to write has been replaced by being captive to a cramped, slouchy space with an uncomfortable chair.

I am pleased to report, though, that I talked to a friend this week about fulfilling some fantasies, so that's cool. She's a massage therapist, and she's always very strict about maintaining her professional boundaries. Sex and professional massage don't mix, especially if you want to A) keep your license to practice, and B) stay out of jail. So I wasn't sure how she would react to me asking if I could hire her as a sex worker instead of a massage therapist, I thought she might get pissed. Though, we have talked before and she told me that being a sex worker has always been a fantasy of hers, so I guess I knew she wouldn't be too offended.

My fantasy scenario, well one of them, involves a massage therapist setting, but she breaks the rules (I also want to try this with a man). She doesn't stop at my upper thighs but continues up to the goods. I want to lay stark naked on the massage table, cock hard and sticking straight up, no towels or sheets to cover me. She gets naked, lets me oil up her body and while she massages me, maybe even fondle her pussy, then she climbs up on me and uses her full-body, her tits, cunt, and ass to massage me. Once we're totally oily and I'm hard as stone, she hand-massages all the parts that are normally off limits for a legit massage. Caresses my balls, strokes my cock, fingers my ass, massages my perineum, my prostate, and makes me cum in explosive bursts all over and then rubs it into my skin. For her tip I'd fuck her something fierce.

Women and the Control of Men

A comment by HyperSexualGirl on one of my recent posts got me thinking about how women control men. She said she found it curious that I was jealous of women's control over men, because she didn't think of it that way. I can respect that and responded in kind; but I also would ask, does someone have to be cognizant of control to have it? I would have to argue a resounding no.

The way straight guys act around women is cold, hard evidence that they are under control like puppets on a string. At the bars, men encircle single women with attention, each hoping to get a piece of action, and it is she who decides who is going to get it, if any of them at all. She decides. Under these circumstances, who is in control? Who holds the power?

Straight men, whether married, single, or in a relationship, all act completely different around their buddies than they do in front of women. Why? Because they know if they say something piggish they might not be getting laid for a while. Again, men's behavior indicates they are manipulated by the chance of getting some pussy.

Need more examples? Guys do stupid, stupid things to try to get laid. Guys will clear their schedule if it means they have a chance at hooking up. They'll drive 400 miles. They'll spend hundreds at the bar or on a date. Think of it this way, have you ever seen a hot woman on the side of the road with car trouble? Ten guys will inevitably be clambering over each other to help her first. Because they are nice? Ha! Just put a regular Joe on the side of the road and see how fast he gets help. Women control men. Period.

How else do women use the prospect of sex to gain benefits in countless situations? Ladies Night no cover, getting bought drinks, passing out fake phone numbers, it's all a ruse to manipulate and control men. Some women are very verbal about their abuse of foolish guys who will shell out for drinks all night long. I have personally overheard them boast of their abilities to keep the drinks flowing from guys they know don't have a chance at any action. The manipulative control can make an innocent bystander completely sick.

Not all women can control all men, though. The factors include two things, and two things only: her relative attractiveness, and his relative attraction to her. Without the attraction, there is no want or need for her pussy, so her power to control him is limited at best. There are certainly other ways that she could make his life hell, but if you're withholding a pussy that he doesn't want, sorry sister, you've got no chips left. And when your sex life is bankrupt, he'll be going to get controlled somewhere else. Maybe a girlfriend or a hooker, who knows, but he's going to get it somewhere. Else.

And what, may I ask, makes strip clubs so popular with men? It's probably not the food, big screen TV's or the great deals on drinks. If women had no power or control over men, the guys sure as hell wouldn't be sitting there bleeding money, getting cock-teased and blue-balled all night, unless of course he can afford enough lap dances to actually get off dry. And that's a double-edged sword, believe me, as it will make a guy ten times hornier than he was before. And men practically become gorillas when they're super horny.

Still need more evidence that women control sex and therefore control men? The fact that rape exists. Don't get me wrong, rape is a terrible crime, my point is that the woman decides whether sex is consensual or not. Even after the fact she could technically decide that she had really said "no," and he had raped her. Even if that's not what happened, it could quickly become, literally, a he-said-she-said case. Now, who is the judge likely to believe? Furthermore, what man could go into a hospital, claiming he was raped last night by a woman, saying, "she fucked me!" They'd congratulate him, give him a ribbon and a pat on the back, and send him on his merry way.

The fact is, women decide who gets laid and when. And after men fall all over themselves trying to impress them with society's ridiculous Cinderella games and knightly expectations, what do they get? You can be certain, if it's anything at all, she controls that decision.

Women control sex. Men want sex. Therefore women control men. Straight men, that is.

Bisexual Porucopia 3

Forced Objectification

I was thinking more about misogyny and yesterday's post, and decided I had more to say to get my mind around this.

My bad luck with women has led to a total loss of faith in the female species. I keep telling myself that I can't blame all women for the heartache and pain cause by those in the past, and that I need to move on. But the problem is that my relationships with women have only gotten more fake, contrived, and more difficult to understand. Things have not gotten better as I've gotten older, which is contrary to my life philosophy. Life is supposed to improve. Relationships are supposed to grow from one to the next, only that hasn't been the case.

Seven years ago my heart was utterly destroyed by a woman whom I was madly in love with. Her callous, casual way of breaking it off really devalued what we had had together, from my perspective. She did not honor or respect our connection, and the pain from the way she left me has remained unhealed. After seven fucking years, I am still a shell of a man.

Since then I have been unable to secure so much as a second date, let alone have a deep and meaningful relationship to help steer me away from the despair that she left me in. Something to help restore my self confidence, and perhaps most importantly, restore my faith in women. Because from where I'm standing, looking back on this road I have traveled, it would be hard for me to believe any of them had a heart. And that leaves me in this ridiculous state of self-pity, desperately hoping some fantastic woman who truly cares about me will somehow come along, someone who will rescue me like on e-fucking-Harmony. But that is a pipe dream that I cannot continue.

So they see the bitterness and hatred, they see that I am jaded, and they must think, "ahh, no pussy for him." Then they might think to themselves that I objectify women once they see how desperate I am. And women do have this sixth sense for desperation, like dogs can smell fear, and as soon as she notices you staring at her cleavage, or catching a glimpse of other women in the room, she might call you a womanizer, a pig, or a jerk... or maybe she'll slap you, dump her drink over your head. Why not humiliate you? After all, it is her right.

Now this is where my misogynistic feelings really start to boil, when I realize that women objectify themselves, but then demonize men for reacting to it naturally. It is such a double edged sword, yet some men have learned to play the game masterfully. They get pussy by not acting like they want it. They get her to think getting laid was her idea. It's amazing. Only thing is I'm not that guy. That's too dishonest for me, too much of a charade. So instead I end up glancing too much, too often, or too long, at whatever irresistibly sexy part she's got out for display, and then I get placed squarely into the NO PUSSY ZONE.

It's like they're fishing without a hook. They'll tease me with the bait, but they don't really want to catch me. So I get no action once again, go to the strip club and then home to porn surf... and hey guess what, all I'm getting out of the deal is OBJECTS. Is there any question why women are objectified?

Cumming On Stuff

This post is for all of you bi guys out there, apologies to my gay friends, here's other posts for your pleasure.



I love to cum on things. Just seeing all that hot juicy cum splash and splooge all over skin, magazines, panties, leather, or lace - it doesn't matter - it's such a turn on. Sometimes I jerk off onto porno mags, whether they be straight or gay. Watching my cum squirt out and land on the pictures takes me away to a fantasy world, where the person in the photo comes alive in my imagination, helping to visualize my jism peppering their skin.





I love a woman that's not afraid of cum, loves to get it all over her tits and will let me cum onto her back, ass, face or pussy, anywhere I want to see it land. Facials in particular have this wonderful domination/submissive element to them. A chick that can keep a smile through that is truly a cum loving whore, in all the best sense of the word.



And ah yes, to cum on a beautiful cunt. Any chick that ever let me cum right onto her pussy was on the pill, otherwise the fear of getting pregnant was always there, not to mention HIV/AIDS, so usually this was off limits. Getting to do that is a rare treat, especially in non-monogamous relationships. Common sense dictates that you wrap it and trap it, but it sure is fun to unleash all that cum right onto a pussy, if she lets you do it.





I also want to see my cum splattered all over some guy's bare ass. I love porn surfing for gay cumshots. It's just so hot to see that milky jizz all over another guy's abs, balls, ass... whatever, just let me see it pooling up while I'm stroking along, ready to shoot my load onto that creamy mess.



It's such a strong fantasy to see my own cum surge out onto some cute guy's shaved asshole. I'm new to this bisexual thing so I don't really get off on hairy asses or big, gaping, greased, fisted, totally blown out asses. I like a puckered, healthy looking pinkstar. Maybe it's just my relative inexperience with them, as I've rimmed only a few female lovers, but I have to be honest, I've never fucked an ass. Two chicks I have dated were into anal, but they both said I was too big to fit. I dunno, I'm only 6.5 inches, so whatever. Anyway, someday I'm going to get to watch my own cum ejaculating out onto some guy's pretty little ass and I'm going to love every minute of it.

Pussy Has Personality!

I'm definitely not gay, I could never swear off women! To me the vagina is an incredibly fascinating organ. Each one as unique as the individual who owns it. Equally as complex, mysterious and intricate as the woman attached. Pussy is truly an enigma.

I've heard gay men and even some women say that vaginas are ugly. Ugly? I suppose orchids are ugly in their own way too. When we are too uptight or unable to understand, must we find negative words to fashion our descriptions? Dan Savage says pussy looks like a "canned ham dropped from ten feet." If that's true, then a split canned ham is entirely beautiful and inherently fuckable.

Ham imagery aside, pussy comes in as many shapes and sizes as there are species in the world, with as many variations of expressive individuality as the populace. This is why I love shaved snatch so very much: I like to be able to see and explore all the details within each beautiful tuck and fold. It's the same reason florists trim thorns and shade leaves from roses. It's all about the presentation and accentuation of the intrinsic beauty underneath the protective layers.

Some women have thick, meaty lips and clitoral hood, wrinkled and protruding. The lips remain tangled together, crumpled and tucked-in throughout the day, yet become gloriously expressed when aroused, opening like a flower. Large pussy lips are fun to play with, suck and tug on, nibble and lick. They can be easily spread wide during cunnilingus, to get at the inner folds and clitoris for unobstructed munching. Some women have such long lips, they can be tied in a knot, while others talk to their plastic surgeon about "fixing" this "problem" area.



Longer lips can be uncomfortable during sex if not properly lubricated. Many a porn scene has been shot with the director oblivious to dryness and discomfort, her outer lips being gripped and pulled into her hole with each thrust. Imagine trying to act turned on when your cunt's being ripped apart by a rubber saw. Meaty lips must be given adequate attention and priming before penetrative sex to ensure that the rest of the organ is on-board and aroused enough to keep the juices flowing properly.

Pussy lips are the silken curtains marking the entrance to moist delights inside, a temptation beyond description. The warm and snug gripping of my shaft, a muscular and fantastic love tunnel, self-lubricating and intensely satisfying. Pussy is aptly designed for fucking, the cock merely an evolutionary byproduct of vaginal pleasure, erected to serve at the delights of the queen goddess.

When I'm hard and inches from a pussy, my erectile longing can be as palpable as hunger, as if my cock had radar, fully cognizant of the blissful plunge into moistened pleasure that is merely a thrust away. Within naked proximity, the cock wants nothing more than to perform its sacred duty: inject a steamy cumload deep within. Cocks know what their purpose in life is: piss when soft, cum when hard. Cocks have an almost binary, far more simplified sexual repertoire than pussy, which desires a far greater range of delicacies, and is hard-wired to countless erogenous zones that span the female body.


Not to be outdone by large lips, and every shape and size in between, slender pussy lips are also incredibly beautiful floral arrangements. Barely tucked away and hidden within, peeking out from between the outer walls like a tiny mountain ridge of flesh. They are a joy to eat, sublime to lick like an ice cream cone, alternating from clit to cunt hole, up and down like a commuter train on skin rails. I love to French kiss and tongue tickle smaller pussy lips. They yield easily when fucked, having less surface area than large lips, making more efficient use of the natural lubricating juices. They're probably less uncomfortable getting fucked when dry, but gentlemen please, be careful! I once had a lover who's svelte little lips had literally been torn by an overeager, dick-stupid boyfriend. Her florette required extra special care and attention, since the tear still gave her pain with any dryness, even so many years later. I could have killed that dumb fuck oaf. Guys, please remember to be kind to pussies, they are powerful yet deceivingly delicate organs, and require service and attention far beyond that of our comparably rudimentary cocks.

Some pussy lips are so subtle, they have hardly any outward appearance at all. I've heard these called hamburger buns, but I don't personally like the term. I can see the resemblance, and I love this kind of pussy, but I prefer descriptions with sexier connotations. Like peach slit. The incredible beauty of this kind of vaginal structure reminds me of the seam of a peach, and when shaved the smoothness is quite similar, being a sweet fuzzy treat, the petite outer lips tucked into the canyon between twin puffy mounds, all the hardware deliciously nestled inside. Yumm.

The vagina is the most beautiful part of a woman's body. The most fascinating and mysterious, most privately held part of all, a wonderfully complex and detailed thing. A lifetime of study could never master the complete understanding and command of such a fantastic and awe inspiring organ. Ladies, your pussies are divinely beautiful, absolutely worthy of worship at the altar. May I please?

Lily's Triangle

I just got off the phone with a former lover. She told me she just started stripping. Damn right girl! She has a smoking hot body, perfect sized tits, knows how to dance, is into porn, so I always wondered why she hadn't been a stripper before. She has this way of never aging. Her body is small and petite, and she always reminds me of the 21 year-old girl I first met way back in '96, even though she is now 33. Now that she's a stripper, I'm tempted to go visit her and get a right proper lap dance!

She first shaved her pussy at my request. I had asked her to do a little femscaping so I could get a better angle at eating her clit. She readily agreed. Later the next day she said, "my pussy's felt things she's never felt before!" The smooth exposed condition of her clit left it vulnerable to casual rubs during normal daily movement, and she was amazed at the clitoral delights she could enjoy during regular moments throughout the day. She was instantly hooked, and as far as I know, she hasn't stopped trimming since.

They way she shapes her pussy hair is just so sexy. She shaves her outer lips, and then wide strips on her bikini line, then shaves off everything above her clit except for one little perfectly shaped triangle. It is a beautiful thing. Her pussy lips are a unique orchid of lovely folds, and when I porn surf and see a cunt like hers it always reminds me of her. The way she trimmed her pussy, the way it looked so pretty, the way it tasted. I remember it having a distinct, strong yet not unpleasant taste, not unlike her personality. She's a strong, independent, wildly sexy woman, and she's got the pussy to match.

She told me just now that she has a committed boyfriend. I have to admit I'm a little disappointed that I won't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting laid if I go to see her. The thought of not getting to see that meticulously trimmed little snatch of hers makes those miles seem all but too far to drive.

The last time we got to fool around was two years ago. We did see each other last year. I even got us a hotel suite for the night, but somehow she was disinterested in sex. I was absolutely devastated. She cock-blocked me, and jerking off did nothing to squelch the fervor churning in my nuts.

Two years ago, we probably had our most vigorous sex ever, though I didn't get to actually fuck that sweet beautiful pussy of hers. She made me fuck her face, which was great because years ago she had said she would never deep throat. Now here she was, hanging her head off the bed, and I was wearing a metal cockring and hard as a rock, literally fucking her throat, balls against her nose. It was great! Of course I came and that was that, and she went to bed.

I still have unfinished business with her. We were talking about sex before she let me fuck her throat that night, and she said we could stick a vibrator up her ass while I fucked her. We never got to do that, and I'm still holding out fleeting hope that maybe we'll have the chance to fulfill that fantasy. She loves anal sex, but always said my cock was too big for her ass. Whatever, girl.

I'll be moving clear across the country soon, and won't get to see her every year or two anymore. I feel sad that we won't have a chance to be occasional lovers again. Sometimes when we saw each other back in the day, neither of us had gotten laid in a while, and the release and familiarity was a truly wonderful thing. She's a good lay, and my cock fits inside of her cunt hole like hand in glove. And her body just won't quit!

I wish her well in her new relationship, though I would jump at the chance to fuck her again, the fine little package of a woman that she is. She knows I'm bi, so maybe I'll send her this post. Let her know how I really feel. I'm secretly hoping she'll break up with this guy before I take one last road trip up her way, but it's not nice to wish ill will on others. Hey... maybe he's bi too! Yeah right, keep dreaming kid.

Guy Screws Lesbian: Perks and Pitfalls

A couple years ago I met up with a platonic college friend after twelve years. She was attracted to guys in college, and since had become a hardcore lesbian. As far as I knew, she was still totally gay, which was totally cool with me. One night after hanging out and catching up, she was too messed up to drive, and asked if she could stay over for the night.

"Yeah sure," I said. We had been fairly close friends in college, camping pals, even "snuggle buddies," but we had never crossed any sexual border. We were always just strictly friends. Why should this be any different? Especially now that I knew she was gay?

As we're getting ready for bed, she said, "you need to know that I'm feeling attracted to you right now, and I want to get a sense of where you are at with that before we get into bed together."

Um... I'm a friggin' guy. So this kind of stark and honest language pitched my tent immediately.

Dumbfounded, I stumbled out some lame follow up as my dick flooded the control of my brain. My mind was abuzz with hormones and a surge of endorphins at the prospect of getting laid without the commonly required capital outlay, courting rituals, displays, and mind games. Confused by this turn of events, I could barely complete the task of taking my clothes off.

Naked, we got into bed, embraced, entwined our legs, kissed. It was beautiful. She told me sweetly that she hadn't been with a man for ten years, that she really had no idea what to do with a penis, said it was kind of weird to have this appendage sticking out of me.

The feeling of being a fish out of water was mutual. I tried to eat her pussy, but she was totally natural down there, and her pussy hairs on either side of her hole were as long and wiry as an elephant's ear hair! Despondent, I tried in earnest to push them aside, but lost interest as I felt not quite up to the task, convinced that I couldn't possibly satisfy any lesbian with my rudimentary cunnilingus skills, especially in the face of such an unruly minefield of pubic hairs.

But luckily she spoke the golden words, "do you have a condom?" And soon I was showing her the best thing to do with a penis: I fucked her.

Apparently the strap-ons she had been using with her lovers weren't as big as my cock, so a few times I plunged too deep, making her uncomfortable. I like to go balls deep, so this made getting off a bit of a challenge, but I eventually came, and like any gentleman would do, apologized for not being able to get her off, and fell fast asleep.

In the morning, of course, I had to freak out that I fucked my platonic friend, someone I considered practically a sister, and now I felt like I had committed incest. I told her I didn't want to fuck her again; but as it turned out, we would have a few more encounters and she would end up being the one that helped me realize that I am in fact, bisexual.