While I can't think of a story involving myself personally, there is one classic that always comes to mind when one of these threads shows up. It's NSFW, FYI. This is a post from reddit's r/sex...
While I can't think of a story involving myself personally, there is one classic that always comes to mind when one of these threads shows up. It's NSFW, FYI.
This is a post from reddit's r/sex subreddit. I always feel a little bad laughing, but the way this guy describes the scenario always makes me laugh. Prostate Stimulation. Below is the text in case you don't want to send traffic.
First. Sorry for the way I wrote this. Writing it this way I'm really embarrassed by all this and it was the only way I could convince myself that I could post it, even anonymously. Just bear with me, okay?
This starts in a stupid, embarrassing way. I’m 23, but my doc decides he wants to do a prostate exam during my physical. (Quick question - isn’t that like twenty years early?)
Okay. So he pushes in and it is the first time anyone’s ever been in there. Like ever. And two things happen within three seconds: I get idiotically, you-could-bend-a-steel-bar-around-my-dick, stupid hard. And I groan. Involuntarily and explosively and horrifically.
My doctor laughed his ass off. I mean laughed, and told me it was okay. “Really,” he says. “It’s pretty common” he says.
But his face tells me it’s not that common.
Dutifully, I went to Reddit and looked this shit up. Reddit fucking loves it some straight guys getting off on their prostate. “So okay,” I say to myself, “let’s buy a fucking drumstick and do this thing.”
So I go to a music store and buy a pair of drumsticks, talking incessantly about what a goddamn professional drummer I am, and how fucking necessary it is for me to own some drumsticks right then, as if the guy behind the counter could see into my soul, perfectly aware that I was going to shove one of those sticks right up my ass when I got home.
I knew. He knew. The guy driving the bus knew. The drumsticks sat in that bag like the fucking One Ring, bending space around it. I had guilty secrets, stolen form the Gods, and I was going to fuck myself with them.
So I get home and I do all the stuff. Lube, stick, push, feel, POW.
Shit like cum, but not cum, some kind of watery fluid slips out of me in a big knot and feels fucking magnificent. Right out of the tip of my purple-tipped cock.
(Another question. Purple tip. Normal when super-hard? Or am I going to give myself a blood clot or something? This is new for me.)
It keeps coming, and the feeling gets better and better. I stop jerking off. (Oh, another note: I was jerking off.) My face gets hot. I realize I’m blushing. My chest blushes, too. That’s new. All my muscles tense up under my skin. They’re probably fucking blushing by now, too. I’m a big, red, purple dicked, autoerotic machine, pounding this drumstick into my ass while my GF is at work, feeling like a fucking idiot.
My balls get this frozen cold sensation, and grip up into me, terrified of what’s about to happen (I would assume).
At which point I actually, literally, honest-to-god it’s apparently not just a stupid phrase, see goddamn stars. Little colored lights. My head rushes. I cum so hard I actually scream. Not like a girl, I scream like an extra in 300. I scream like someone lifting a Buick over their head.
Long story short it was the best orgasm of my life. And later that night, I had sex with my GF and the comparison was... I mean she’s sexy and wonderful and we have(had?) great sex, best so far, she’s awesome, but it didn’t compare.
Next day, more drumstick. This time with porn. Porn gets shut off ten minutes in. I don’t need anything else. I’m a fucking prostate monk, austere in my faith.
More sex with GF. She knows something’s up. Maybe not “I FOUND OUT MY BF IS FUCKING HIMSELF WITH SURPLUS MUSICAL EQUIPMENT REDDIT WHAT DO I DO?” up, but she knows.
I keep the drumsticks on the nightstand like the fucking purloined letter. I say they’re for her. But I can kind of tell she’s not buying it. She knows I’m not as enthusiastic about sex.
Fast forward three months. By now I’ve graduated to a full-on cock-shaped dildo stuck to the bedroom wall. Ass up, head down, biting a pillow. Believe me, I don’t get this either. Why cock shaped? Because I wanted something thicker and I figured if I was going to be fucking myself on a daily basis, I might as well get over any lingering homophobia that might be clinging to my soul.
Okay, serious time. I’m not gay. I’m not Bi, either. I also don’t think there’s anything wrong with being either. In fact, it would be super convenient if I were Gay, because then I could tell my GF that I’m gay, and get fucked on a regular basis. I don’t know what to do about this. GF tries to seduce me a few times a week and I go along with it. She cums... and so do I, but it’s not fun for me. I lost interest in her. It takes me forever to cum.
No, using a plug doesn’t do it. It has to be an “in out” motion, not just a brick in my rectum. No, my GF wouldn’t peg me if I asked her about it. I brought it up, hypothetically, in terms of “something I found on Reddit.” Her reaction was not promising. I’m not going to say she’s homophobic or anything, but she has very traditional views of what men and women are supposed to be like, and writhing like a demon while a huge cock slides up into your hole is not what the man is supposed to do - so she says, anyway.
And the problem is also that I just don’t want to fuck her anymore. I want to be fucked. And even though I’m not attracted to men, I’ve considered breaking up with her (first, obviously, no cheat-o) and hooking up with guys. But even that isn’t something I want to do, because I love her (we’ve been together for almost a year) and I love being with her. Just not “BEING WITH” her.
So, Reddit. What do I do? I want to be a normal boyfriend. But I also can't deny that I am sexually oriented to being fucked, and not fucking. I cum without touching myself. I don't even WANT to touch myself. Doesn't that mean something obvious?
Suddenly occurred to me: if being gay is genetic, could I be physiologically gay but psychologically straight?
I might have funnier stories, but this is the most wholesome (maybe to help balance out that one about the guy with his drumsticks). This was shortly after our second son was born, and our first...
I might have funnier stories, but this is the most wholesome (maybe to help balance out that one about the guy with his drumsticks).
This was shortly after our second son was born, and our first son was in fully-mobile toddler mode in that stage where pretty much everything he was experiencing was new to him and watching his reactions were a huge source of joy to me and my wife. We were living in Florida at the time, and it had just hit the few weeks during winter when it wasn't straight up torture to be outside, so we decided to grab the stroller and take a little family trip to Busch Gardens in Tampa. If you're not familiar, it's basically a theme park with rides and some zoo elements, as well as (at the time at least) a Sesame Street themed kid's area with toddler-friendly rides, playgrounds, and people dressed as Sesame Street characters walking around. My older kid was really into Sesame Street and we thought it would be fun to take him to meet and get a picture with Elmo.
It was a pretty fun day--we did the whole waiting in line to get a picture with Elmo thing (he was hot shit at the time, so there was big demand), and took turns watching the stroller with the baby and going on rides or playgrounds with our older son. After a couple hours we decided to wrap it up and head home, but on the way out our son spotted a crowd of people around a guy in a Grover suit and pulled us toward him.
Grover was waving kids to him one at a time and giving hugs and letting parents take pictures, and when he finally waved to us, our son ran up and gave him a huge hug and just wouldn't let go. The guy in the suit tried to gently end it and stand back up a couple times, but our son had him in a vice grip of a hug and would not let go. I overheard some of the other parents around us commenting stuff like "wow, that kid must really love Grover," and "how adorable, Grover must be his favorite character." Anyway, after a minute or so it was getting a little awkward, so I tapped my son's shoulder and said something like "come on buddy, your turn's over, the other kids want hugs too." With some reluctance my son finally let go, obviously disappointed that the hug had to end. As I take his hand and we start walking through all the other parents surrounding Grover, my wife tells our son "we're leaving now, you should say goodbye!"
My son, with the hugest, purest grin on his face, turns around, waves at Grover, and yells just as loud as he can:
"BYE COOKIE MONSTER!"
Still makes me laugh thinking about it over a decade later.
I dunno, one time when I was 20 we were drinking on the centennial hill in etobicoke, theres a ski lift, somone told me you could put you belt over the cable and ride it like a zipline Well I must...
I dunno, one time when I was 20 we were drinking on the centennial hill in etobicoke, theres a ski lift, somone told me you could put you belt over the cable and ride it like a zipline
Well I must have had a cheap belt cause as soon as I put my weight on it it snapped and I went plummeting to the ground
The rest of the night I had to hold my pants up because I was without a belt
I still recall the first time I heard how "Etobicoke" is pronounced: "eh-TOBY-co" I supposed the lift was going up? If it was downhills or if the belt held until you were high up you could have...
I still recall the first time I heard how "Etobicoke" is pronounced: "eh-TOBY-co"
I supposed the lift was going up? If it was downhills or if the belt held until you were high up you could have fallen to your death ...... ?
No actually it wasn't going down the hill, it was a small section that went down after you got off behind the lift, I dont really know how to explain it but it was only like 10 feet off the ground...
No actually it wasn't going down the hill, it was a small section that went down after you got off behind the lift, I dont really know how to explain it but it was only like 10 feet off the ground if that
We were in our twenties. In a pub, friend A offered to teach friend B, who had just returned from the toilets, how to do a “soft hypnosis” on someone. The one warning was that he would be on the...
We were in our twenties.
In a pub, friend A offered to teach friend B, who had just returned from the toilets, how to do a “soft hypnosis” on someone. The one warning was that he would be on the receiving end of hypnosis during the demonstration but since we are all along friends, they would be safe.
Friend B was curious and agreed.
Friend A told friend B to follow their every move, to maintain strict eye contact, and that together they would enter the trance state. The difference would be that due to practice, friend A would be far less easy to influence.
First, A picked up their pint glass. B mirrored. A positioned their other palm, flat, a few centimeters above the glass. B mirrored. A then placed that palm over their heart. B mirrored.
Then A drew a circle in the air around the body of the pint glass which was still held in the other hand. B mirrored. A drew the same circle in the air close to their forehead. B mirrored.
A then actually touched the upper part of their glass with the other hand, again making a circular motion. B mirrored. A repeated the motion touching their forehead. B mirrored.
Finally, A drew a circle on the bottom of their pint glass followed by a pattern on their face. B followed.
What friend B didn’t realize was that while they had gone to the toilet, friend A spent all of that time with a lighter lit under friend B’s pint glass. Every time B drew on their face during the last part of the sequence, they were painting their face with soot and ended up looking like they’d crawled down a chimney.
The beauty of all this for us was that B also dismissed the laughter as us thinking the whole hypnosis idea was stupid. Afterwards when they were asked if they felt different, the answer was, “I’m not sure, yeah, maybe!” so they stayed talking normally for quite a while until the next time they went to the toilet :D
Many years ago, I was working as a line cook at a golf course. It was wintertime, so less golfers and lots of Christmas parties and events going on. One of the event menus had an eggnog creme...
Many years ago, I was working as a line cook at a golf course. It was wintertime, so less golfers and lots of Christmas parties and events going on. One of the event menus had an eggnog creme brulee as the dessert. So me and Jarred (another cook) are working this event, making a hundred eggnog creme brulees. We both happen to be cis white guys. Our fabulously flaming dishwasher Rolando was doing prep at the next work station over.
Jarred (to me) : "I hate eggnog. Its consistency is like drinking jizz."
Me: "Have you drank lots of jizz to compare?"
Jarred (angrily) : "No! Of course not!"
Me: "Then how can you be sure?"
Jarred: "I know! Let's ask Rolando." (Aside to Rolando) "Hey Rolando! Is drinking eggnog the same consistency as drinking jizz?"
Rolando (pauses in thought) : "I'm not sure... I've never tried eggnog before."
While I can't think of a story involving myself personally, there is one classic that always comes to mind when one of these threads shows up. It's NSFW, FYI.
This is a post from reddit's r/sex subreddit. I always feel a little bad laughing, but the way this guy describes the scenario always makes me laugh. Prostate Stimulation. Below is the text in case you don't want to send traffic.
That's hilarious, but I'm also realizing with some horror that I've been WAY to casual just picking up drumsticks at friends places to fidget with :(
That never occurred to me and I've read this story like, 15 times. I feel like I need to wash my hands.
I might have funnier stories, but this is the most wholesome (maybe to help balance out that one about the guy with his drumsticks).
This was shortly after our second son was born, and our first son was in fully-mobile toddler mode in that stage where pretty much everything he was experiencing was new to him and watching his reactions were a huge source of joy to me and my wife. We were living in Florida at the time, and it had just hit the few weeks during winter when it wasn't straight up torture to be outside, so we decided to grab the stroller and take a little family trip to Busch Gardens in Tampa. If you're not familiar, it's basically a theme park with rides and some zoo elements, as well as (at the time at least) a Sesame Street themed kid's area with toddler-friendly rides, playgrounds, and people dressed as Sesame Street characters walking around. My older kid was really into Sesame Street and we thought it would be fun to take him to meet and get a picture with Elmo.
It was a pretty fun day--we did the whole waiting in line to get a picture with Elmo thing (he was hot shit at the time, so there was big demand), and took turns watching the stroller with the baby and going on rides or playgrounds with our older son. After a couple hours we decided to wrap it up and head home, but on the way out our son spotted a crowd of people around a guy in a Grover suit and pulled us toward him.
Grover was waving kids to him one at a time and giving hugs and letting parents take pictures, and when he finally waved to us, our son ran up and gave him a huge hug and just wouldn't let go. The guy in the suit tried to gently end it and stand back up a couple times, but our son had him in a vice grip of a hug and would not let go. I overheard some of the other parents around us commenting stuff like "wow, that kid must really love Grover," and "how adorable, Grover must be his favorite character." Anyway, after a minute or so it was getting a little awkward, so I tapped my son's shoulder and said something like "come on buddy, your turn's over, the other kids want hugs too." With some reluctance my son finally let go, obviously disappointed that the hug had to end. As I take his hand and we start walking through all the other parents surrounding Grover, my wife tells our son "we're leaving now, you should say goodbye!"
My son, with the hugest, purest grin on his face, turns around, waves at Grover, and yells just as loud as he can:
"BYE COOKIE MONSTER!"
Still makes me laugh thinking about it over a decade later.
I dunno, one time when I was 20 we were drinking on the centennial hill in etobicoke, theres a ski lift, somone told me you could put you belt over the cable and ride it like a zipline
Well I must have had a cheap belt cause as soon as I put my weight on it it snapped and I went plummeting to the ground
The rest of the night I had to hold my pants up because I was without a belt
I still recall the first time I heard how "Etobicoke" is pronounced: "eh-TOBY-co"
I supposed the lift was going up? If it was downhills or if the belt held until you were high up you could have fallen to your death ...... ?
No actually it wasn't going down the hill, it was a small section that went down after you got off behind the lift, I dont really know how to explain it but it was only like 10 feet off the ground if that
The Long....Long ....MAN story.
Enjoy. I love good advertising.
Not my story, but this one lives in my list of "I've had a bad day and need a funny" links: The Great Flamingo Uprising.
We were in our twenties.
In a pub, friend A offered to teach friend B, who had just returned from the toilets, how to do a “soft hypnosis” on someone. The one warning was that he would be on the receiving end of hypnosis during the demonstration but since we are all along friends, they would be safe.
Friend B was curious and agreed.
Friend A told friend B to follow their every move, to maintain strict eye contact, and that together they would enter the trance state. The difference would be that due to practice, friend A would be far less easy to influence.
First, A picked up their pint glass. B mirrored. A positioned their other palm, flat, a few centimeters above the glass. B mirrored. A then placed that palm over their heart. B mirrored.
Then A drew a circle in the air around the body of the pint glass which was still held in the other hand. B mirrored. A drew the same circle in the air close to their forehead. B mirrored.
A then actually touched the upper part of their glass with the other hand, again making a circular motion. B mirrored. A repeated the motion touching their forehead. B mirrored.
Finally, A drew a circle on the bottom of their pint glass followed by a pattern on their face. B followed.
What friend B didn’t realize was that while they had gone to the toilet, friend A spent all of that time with a lighter lit under friend B’s pint glass. Every time B drew on their face during the last part of the sequence, they were painting their face with soot and ended up looking like they’d crawled down a chimney.
The beauty of all this for us was that B also dismissed the laughter as us thinking the whole hypnosis idea was stupid. Afterwards when they were asked if they felt different, the answer was, “I’m not sure, yeah, maybe!” so they stayed talking normally for quite a while until the next time they went to the toilet :D
Many years ago, I was working as a line cook at a golf course. It was wintertime, so less golfers and lots of Christmas parties and events going on. One of the event menus had an eggnog creme brulee as the dessert. So me and Jarred (another cook) are working this event, making a hundred eggnog creme brulees. We both happen to be cis white guys. Our fabulously flaming dishwasher Rolando was doing prep at the next work station over.
Jarred (to me) : "I hate eggnog. Its consistency is like drinking jizz."
Me: "Have you drank lots of jizz to compare?"
Jarred (angrily) : "No! Of course not!"
Me: "Then how can you be sure?"
Jarred: "I know! Let's ask Rolando." (Aside to Rolando) "Hey Rolando! Is drinking eggnog the same consistency as drinking jizz?"
Rolando (pauses in thought) : "I'm not sure... I've never tried eggnog before."
I've read it before but I love re reading it :) Allie Brosh is a gem. I also love her Simple Dog story too.