I-Vibe Vacu-lock E-glass One-Touch Multi-Speed Super-Quiet Battery-Operated Clit-Stimulating Kill Me
Masturbation was all that was running through his head that morning. Fleshy digits pumping up and down furiously over soft, purple, veigny shafts, spurting thunderous mounds of tapioca pudding all over the wall. Thousands of them, all stroking in unison. All he wanted to do was jerk off.
It was two days after Christmas, and all that Carter had been able to think about the whole holiday weekend was pornography and masturbating. From the Office Christmas party he practically had to drag his wife to(after she had spent two hours stuffing her bloated, sagging body into a dress that hadn't fit her in years, eating valium like it was a lifeline), through the arduous two-day trip to Southern Florida to get to the family hoo-rah on Christmas Eve, through the giant Christmas Day feast, visions of giant breasts bouncing up and down to intentionally amatuer-looking camera angles ran through his mind constantly. He wanted to masturbate so bad it almost hurt. He felt his libido all twisted up inside of himself, threatening to snap at any given moment and propel himself into a cock-jerking storm of matubatory inferno, launching him into the atmopshere like a sex-crazed helicopter.
It wasn't as if he hadn't tried during the trip, but there were few oppurtunities. The small town of 16,000, mostly retirees, didn't have any adult shops, and even if it had Florida law didn't allow for in-store mastubatory booths like his state did. Several times, in his most desperate moments, he thought of buying a Playboy from the local liquor mart and retreating to the seemingly endless back roads among the Everglades near where they were staying to self-appreciate in his car alone in the wilderness, but his fear of being discovered was too great. He worked with children, he had to be discreet about this sort of thing. He had also tried at the hotel room his wife and he had stopped at on the drive down to Florida. They had been watching an old Audrey Hepburn movie, and his wife had fallen asleep. As she lay snoring next to him, Carter's mind drifted to sex and explicit imagery as he imagined the actress on-screen naked, posing in a generic porn scene, smiling like an idiot for the cameraman who goads her into rediculous sex acts. Aroused, he crept out of bed and snuck into the restroom, locking the door. He turned on the shower and sat on the edge of the tub, trying to arouse himself from imagination alone. It wasn't working. He tried to be as nasty as he humanly could, picking various individuals out and exposing them to the most hardcore acts of depravity he could imagine. Bondage and spanking with the girl working the nightdesk who had brought over clean towels earlier. Ass-to-mouth with the pretty teenager who served him coffee at the Starbuck's on Holgate and Eighth Street every day. Sucking on an enema bag pulled out from one of the girls in the Junior Pep Squad at the school he taught at while she sucked the dick of a transexual midget wearing a Mighty Mouse outfit and having his nuts pounded by a dominatrix with a ballpine hammer. The fantasizing wasn't working though. After about a half hour he turned the water off and, frustrated, slipped back into bed beside his snoozing spouse. The movie was over, and some show he had never heard of called Beverly Hills 90210 was on. He tried to get into it for the potential arousal factor, but watching the twenty-something girls who were supposed to be playing high school students reminded him too much of his beloved porn that he craved so much. He turned the television off and, careful not to upset his raging case of blue balls, rolled over and went to sleep.
But now, there he was. In his car for the drive to his first day back at work from vacation, his scrotum radiating frustration and tension. He gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, his lip trembling in nervous thought. He wondered if he could possibly have time to do it, to make a quick trip to the porn shop on Monniker Avenue, just a little bit out of the way from the school he worked. He glanced at his watch - he had thirty-five minutes before he had to be there. It took twenty-five to drive to work, on a good day. Even if he didn't stop for coffee as his usual routine was to do, he wouldn't have time. He sighed as he started the car and backed out of the driveway.
His mind gnawed at him in deep thought as he drove. All he could think about was release. He wanted so badly to just rip his cock out of his beige Sears polyester-knit pants and spray it all over his dashboard. When he was a few miles from work, he knew what he had to do. He was stopping at the porn store and masturbating no matter what, even if it meant a possible reprimand from his superiors. He didn't care, all that mattered was milking that sweet nectar from his throbbing genitalia.
He was almost running as he entered the blacked-out double-doors to the dark building. Weird rock music echoed throughout the store, and Carter was pleased to see it was relatively empty. He headed right to the counter, where a young miscreant with jade-tinted hair was thumbing through a copy of Hustler. He layed a twenty dollar bill on the counter, sliding it toward the clerk. "Change, please", he asked, his eyes attempting to make contact with the cashier's, but not reaching any. Without looking at Carter, the clerk opened it's till and dropped the bill into it, retrieving three fives and five ones. It tossed the money down onto the counter in a spread with surprising organization, the way a dealer in Vegas or a bank teller might. Carter thanked the clerk as he retrieved the money, stuffing it into his pocket. He turned quickly away from the counter and the door as a pair of good-looking young girls entered the store, heading toward the even darker halls of the Arcade.
Several shadows loomed over a pinball table as Carter walked by. The lights on a half-dozen of the twenty or so rooms lining the long hallway were lit with "Occupied" signs, and he found an empty one at the very far corner. He quickly closed the door and locked it behind him as he heard footsteps behind him, correctly anticipating the jingling of his door handle seconds later as the approacher outside began the dance of the homosexual arcade cruiser looking for some quick and easy dick. Most of them were prostitutes, but more still were men just like himself; lonely, pathetic, desperate for any kind of human touch. Carter had tried homosexuality once in the Arcade, when he had accidentally forgotten to lock his door. A thinner, younger man wandered inside and, much to his own surprise, Carter didn't immediately object. They both started watching a transexual film together, and without word, the man reached over and began to rub Carter's crotch through his pants. He stared at the man's hand as it caressed him slowly, dumbfounded, unsure of what to think or say. After a few minutes the man stopped and demanded twenty dollars before he went any further. Carter refused, and the man left. He had not had a similar experience since.
He sat down on one a plastic chair in front of the moniter and fed a five dollar bill into a slot. Instantly the booth let out a loud tick as the screen flashed from blue to an interacial movie. A black man was feeding his gigantic tree-trunk cock into a disinterested white girl's mouth. As she impossibly muttered the typical faire of recorded-over moans and grunts, the black man encouraged her with generic coaching and assurances. "Yeah baby, suck that dick. C'mon white girl, eat that black cock on up". Not Carter's flavor. He pushed a button above the screen and it changed to a new movie. A skinny blonde girl was sitting on a couch, topless, pinching her nipples and smiling for the camera as the "director" asked her inane questions. "What position do you like the best? Have you ever done it with another girl? Do you masturbate?". Also not Carter's cup of tea, though at one time it had been. He was beyond such limited scope now, however. His tastes were much more refined and exacting. The next movie was on par. It was one of his favorites, one that he had seen numerous times. It had some inprounanceable title, of German origin he suposed, and featured several girls in latex outfits strapping one another to complex, overelaborate machinery. They did all manner of things to themselves and each other; poking and prodding with needles, pouring hot candle wax onto vaginas, applying clothespins to nipples. At the climax of the movie, two of the girls lay down on a plastic sheet underneath a board with a large hole in it's center layed flat on top of two stacks of cinderblocks. The third girl sits on top of it and urinates all over their faces, as they giggle in estatic delight. They, in turn, begin to urinate all over themselves and the plastic sheet, and a proverbial Noah's Ark of liquid waste begins to wash over the rest of the floor.
The urine scene was just beginning, and Carter unbuttoned his pants. Just as the mistress had seated herself on her mighty throne of urethral dominance, his cock sprang to life from inside of his underwear, standing at full attention to readily accept orders. Carter's mouth watered in anticipation as he grasped his shaft firmly and began to stroke softly. He gradually picked up the pace as the scene progressed, finally pumping it madly as the scene began to unfold on screen. Unable to control himself any longer, he kicked his legs out and braced them against the wall, tipping his seat back slightly as he pounded his throbbing groin with pittiless abandon, wanking like he had never wanked before. He began to hallucinate and see stars as his climax built deep inside of him, his balls seemingly swelling to twice their size as his semen began to travel upward. All he could think about was how good it was going to feel to climax after waiting desperately for so long. He imagined gigantic, volcanic geisers, spewing gallons and gallons of molten lava into the air, crashing against the ground with such might and force that it shook the ground. He was now using both hands, pumping so furiously he was afraid he might tear it off. He was almost there, he could see a holy light ahead of him, an anxious force urging him, ORDERING him to let go, to release all the pressure he felt and just explode as hard as he could......
KABOOM! With all the force of a tornado, explode he did, and his cock turned into a fire hose. At least a half dozen large splurts of semen poured from the tip of his penis and peppered anything in it's trajectory, landing several places on the wall and floor. Carter grunted in pure joyous contentment as he drained himself, and a mood of sublime peace began to fill him from the bottom up. He stared at the movie as his ejactulating ceased, cluthing his head tightly and letting out an occasional spuradic shiver. He had done it, finally. The entire week had culminated into this moment of sweet and resounding
relief.
Five minutes later, he was buttoning his pants back up, silently cursing himself for being so pathetic. Here he was again, in a pornography store, having allowed himself to come to this disgusting place and masturbate to disturbing pornography yet again. What the hell was he doing here? He had a wife, a good job, a prestigous place in the community. He helped hand out baskets to the poor every year for Thanksgiving and Christmas. He even went to Church on holidays and sometimes on Sundays, just for the hell of it. He was a good person, he knew, but he was weak. He knew it would happen again.
He exited the booth and headed toward the door, past the looming shadows that watched him go. A man instantly darted into his booth as he exited, closing the door behind him to do God-only-knows what inside. Carter shook his head in silent disgust. At least he would never be THAT pathetic. He passed the lethargic, surly porn clerk who was still reading the magazine at the counter, still not acknowledging Carter's or anyone else'e existence. He smiled to himself as he exited through the double-doors into the bright outside world. "And I could be that cashier,", he said to himself as he got into his car and drove toward work. "No future, doomed to sit at that counter for the rest of his life for no pay and no respect. What a way to live."
Chris smiled to himself as he flipped the page, watching balding middle-aged man exited the store. He knew the man to be a regular who frequented the Arcade fairly regularly, although he didn't have much of an opinion of him either way. What amused him was the large glob of cum dangling from the man's ear like a large piece of gaudy jewlery that swung back and forth as he walked. He watched him as he walked outside and to his car, lost in thought and totally oblivious to his unintentional fashion accessory. As the customer's Camry left the store's parking lot, Chris turned away and muttered to himself, "At least I'll never be that pathetic."
It was two days after Christmas, and all that Carter had been able to think about the whole holiday weekend was pornography and masturbating. From the Office Christmas party he practically had to drag his wife to(after she had spent two hours stuffing her bloated, sagging body into a dress that hadn't fit her in years, eating valium like it was a lifeline), through the arduous two-day trip to Southern Florida to get to the family hoo-rah on Christmas Eve, through the giant Christmas Day feast, visions of giant breasts bouncing up and down to intentionally amatuer-looking camera angles ran through his mind constantly. He wanted to masturbate so bad it almost hurt. He felt his libido all twisted up inside of himself, threatening to snap at any given moment and propel himself into a cock-jerking storm of matubatory inferno, launching him into the atmopshere like a sex-crazed helicopter.
It wasn't as if he hadn't tried during the trip, but there were few oppurtunities. The small town of 16,000, mostly retirees, didn't have any adult shops, and even if it had Florida law didn't allow for in-store mastubatory booths like his state did. Several times, in his most desperate moments, he thought of buying a Playboy from the local liquor mart and retreating to the seemingly endless back roads among the Everglades near where they were staying to self-appreciate in his car alone in the wilderness, but his fear of being discovered was too great. He worked with children, he had to be discreet about this sort of thing. He had also tried at the hotel room his wife and he had stopped at on the drive down to Florida. They had been watching an old Audrey Hepburn movie, and his wife had fallen asleep. As she lay snoring next to him, Carter's mind drifted to sex and explicit imagery as he imagined the actress on-screen naked, posing in a generic porn scene, smiling like an idiot for the cameraman who goads her into rediculous sex acts. Aroused, he crept out of bed and snuck into the restroom, locking the door. He turned on the shower and sat on the edge of the tub, trying to arouse himself from imagination alone. It wasn't working. He tried to be as nasty as he humanly could, picking various individuals out and exposing them to the most hardcore acts of depravity he could imagine. Bondage and spanking with the girl working the nightdesk who had brought over clean towels earlier. Ass-to-mouth with the pretty teenager who served him coffee at the Starbuck's on Holgate and Eighth Street every day. Sucking on an enema bag pulled out from one of the girls in the Junior Pep Squad at the school he taught at while she sucked the dick of a transexual midget wearing a Mighty Mouse outfit and having his nuts pounded by a dominatrix with a ballpine hammer. The fantasizing wasn't working though. After about a half hour he turned the water off and, frustrated, slipped back into bed beside his snoozing spouse. The movie was over, and some show he had never heard of called Beverly Hills 90210 was on. He tried to get into it for the potential arousal factor, but watching the twenty-something girls who were supposed to be playing high school students reminded him too much of his beloved porn that he craved so much. He turned the television off and, careful not to upset his raging case of blue balls, rolled over and went to sleep.
But now, there he was. In his car for the drive to his first day back at work from vacation, his scrotum radiating frustration and tension. He gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, his lip trembling in nervous thought. He wondered if he could possibly have time to do it, to make a quick trip to the porn shop on Monniker Avenue, just a little bit out of the way from the school he worked. He glanced at his watch - he had thirty-five minutes before he had to be there. It took twenty-five to drive to work, on a good day. Even if he didn't stop for coffee as his usual routine was to do, he wouldn't have time. He sighed as he started the car and backed out of the driveway.
His mind gnawed at him in deep thought as he drove. All he could think about was release. He wanted so badly to just rip his cock out of his beige Sears polyester-knit pants and spray it all over his dashboard. When he was a few miles from work, he knew what he had to do. He was stopping at the porn store and masturbating no matter what, even if it meant a possible reprimand from his superiors. He didn't care, all that mattered was milking that sweet nectar from his throbbing genitalia.
He was almost running as he entered the blacked-out double-doors to the dark building. Weird rock music echoed throughout the store, and Carter was pleased to see it was relatively empty. He headed right to the counter, where a young miscreant with jade-tinted hair was thumbing through a copy of Hustler. He layed a twenty dollar bill on the counter, sliding it toward the clerk. "Change, please", he asked, his eyes attempting to make contact with the cashier's, but not reaching any. Without looking at Carter, the clerk opened it's till and dropped the bill into it, retrieving three fives and five ones. It tossed the money down onto the counter in a spread with surprising organization, the way a dealer in Vegas or a bank teller might. Carter thanked the clerk as he retrieved the money, stuffing it into his pocket. He turned quickly away from the counter and the door as a pair of good-looking young girls entered the store, heading toward the even darker halls of the Arcade.
Several shadows loomed over a pinball table as Carter walked by. The lights on a half-dozen of the twenty or so rooms lining the long hallway were lit with "Occupied" signs, and he found an empty one at the very far corner. He quickly closed the door and locked it behind him as he heard footsteps behind him, correctly anticipating the jingling of his door handle seconds later as the approacher outside began the dance of the homosexual arcade cruiser looking for some quick and easy dick. Most of them were prostitutes, but more still were men just like himself; lonely, pathetic, desperate for any kind of human touch. Carter had tried homosexuality once in the Arcade, when he had accidentally forgotten to lock his door. A thinner, younger man wandered inside and, much to his own surprise, Carter didn't immediately object. They both started watching a transexual film together, and without word, the man reached over and began to rub Carter's crotch through his pants. He stared at the man's hand as it caressed him slowly, dumbfounded, unsure of what to think or say. After a few minutes the man stopped and demanded twenty dollars before he went any further. Carter refused, and the man left. He had not had a similar experience since.
He sat down on one a plastic chair in front of the moniter and fed a five dollar bill into a slot. Instantly the booth let out a loud tick as the screen flashed from blue to an interacial movie. A black man was feeding his gigantic tree-trunk cock into a disinterested white girl's mouth. As she impossibly muttered the typical faire of recorded-over moans and grunts, the black man encouraged her with generic coaching and assurances. "Yeah baby, suck that dick. C'mon white girl, eat that black cock on up". Not Carter's flavor. He pushed a button above the screen and it changed to a new movie. A skinny blonde girl was sitting on a couch, topless, pinching her nipples and smiling for the camera as the "director" asked her inane questions. "What position do you like the best? Have you ever done it with another girl? Do you masturbate?". Also not Carter's cup of tea, though at one time it had been. He was beyond such limited scope now, however. His tastes were much more refined and exacting. The next movie was on par. It was one of his favorites, one that he had seen numerous times. It had some inprounanceable title, of German origin he suposed, and featured several girls in latex outfits strapping one another to complex, overelaborate machinery. They did all manner of things to themselves and each other; poking and prodding with needles, pouring hot candle wax onto vaginas, applying clothespins to nipples. At the climax of the movie, two of the girls lay down on a plastic sheet underneath a board with a large hole in it's center layed flat on top of two stacks of cinderblocks. The third girl sits on top of it and urinates all over their faces, as they giggle in estatic delight. They, in turn, begin to urinate all over themselves and the plastic sheet, and a proverbial Noah's Ark of liquid waste begins to wash over the rest of the floor.
The urine scene was just beginning, and Carter unbuttoned his pants. Just as the mistress had seated herself on her mighty throne of urethral dominance, his cock sprang to life from inside of his underwear, standing at full attention to readily accept orders. Carter's mouth watered in anticipation as he grasped his shaft firmly and began to stroke softly. He gradually picked up the pace as the scene progressed, finally pumping it madly as the scene began to unfold on screen. Unable to control himself any longer, he kicked his legs out and braced them against the wall, tipping his seat back slightly as he pounded his throbbing groin with pittiless abandon, wanking like he had never wanked before. He began to hallucinate and see stars as his climax built deep inside of him, his balls seemingly swelling to twice their size as his semen began to travel upward. All he could think about was how good it was going to feel to climax after waiting desperately for so long. He imagined gigantic, volcanic geisers, spewing gallons and gallons of molten lava into the air, crashing against the ground with such might and force that it shook the ground. He was now using both hands, pumping so furiously he was afraid he might tear it off. He was almost there, he could see a holy light ahead of him, an anxious force urging him, ORDERING him to let go, to release all the pressure he felt and just explode as hard as he could......
KABOOM! With all the force of a tornado, explode he did, and his cock turned into a fire hose. At least a half dozen large splurts of semen poured from the tip of his penis and peppered anything in it's trajectory, landing several places on the wall and floor. Carter grunted in pure joyous contentment as he drained himself, and a mood of sublime peace began to fill him from the bottom up. He stared at the movie as his ejactulating ceased, cluthing his head tightly and letting out an occasional spuradic shiver. He had done it, finally. The entire week had culminated into this moment of sweet and resounding
relief.
Five minutes later, he was buttoning his pants back up, silently cursing himself for being so pathetic. Here he was again, in a pornography store, having allowed himself to come to this disgusting place and masturbate to disturbing pornography yet again. What the hell was he doing here? He had a wife, a good job, a prestigous place in the community. He helped hand out baskets to the poor every year for Thanksgiving and Christmas. He even went to Church on holidays and sometimes on Sundays, just for the hell of it. He was a good person, he knew, but he was weak. He knew it would happen again.
He exited the booth and headed toward the door, past the looming shadows that watched him go. A man instantly darted into his booth as he exited, closing the door behind him to do God-only-knows what inside. Carter shook his head in silent disgust. At least he would never be THAT pathetic. He passed the lethargic, surly porn clerk who was still reading the magazine at the counter, still not acknowledging Carter's or anyone else'e existence. He smiled to himself as he exited through the double-doors into the bright outside world. "And I could be that cashier,", he said to himself as he got into his car and drove toward work. "No future, doomed to sit at that counter for the rest of his life for no pay and no respect. What a way to live."
Chris smiled to himself as he flipped the page, watching balding middle-aged man exited the store. He knew the man to be a regular who frequented the Arcade fairly regularly, although he didn't have much of an opinion of him either way. What amused him was the large glob of cum dangling from the man's ear like a large piece of gaudy jewlery that swung back and forth as he walked. He watched him as he walked outside and to his car, lost in thought and totally oblivious to his unintentional fashion accessory. As the customer's Camry left the store's parking lot, Chris turned away and muttered to himself, "At least I'll never be that pathetic."