Author's note: If I ever get hauled into court and what I write is brought out for character reference I want it stated for the record that what I write is an attempt to entertain. I don't talk this way in real life, just like a porn actress won't really have sex with the pizza boy in real life, because that would be degrading.
A couple of readers have commented that my blog entries were just as entertaining as my stories. I'm hoping they weren't the guys giving me fours and fives on my stories because that would mean my blogs suck, which they probably should because they are little throw away mental doodles while my stories are long, heavily researched and copiously if not studiously edited … mental doodles.
One faithful reader pointed out that the blogs don't count for the download number on the regular membership, which is a good point but I don't see how anyone can read sixteen stories in one day. Before I became one of the internet's top authors and was given a premier membership by the Pulitzer committee I use to (there's an odd word combination 'use' 'to') download entire stories from my work computer at the convent daycare center and take them back to read at the halfway house at night, and it was difficult to get through sixteen stories in one day -- mostly because I'm a slow reader and can only jerk off so much before my arm goes numb. But I see what you, my faithful readers, are saying, and since I don't have to worry about technical merit, plot, or spelling, I'm not averse to writing more in the blog. So here goes … this week's blog (which I wrote two weeks ago as a doodle but was chicken to post until I took out the phrases like 'butt fucked' and 'nailed her good.')
I feel that I need to warn you so that you can schedule an extra session with your shrinks to deal with your disappointment… With a heavy heart and after much gnashing of teeth I decided NOT to enter the Halloween writing contest. There were two overriding reasons. Number one was because the rules said that there couldn't be any spelling errers, so there was a 90% chance that whatever I wrote would get kicked back anyway. Number two was because I wasn't inspired. I've never had interesting sex on Halloween, unless you count a sixty-nine on an uncomfortable futon, so I have no point of reference (that was redundant; all futons are uncomfortable torture devises.)
I did dress up like Wednesday Adams for a group costume contest one year and enjoyed staring into the bountiful cleavage of my makeup artist for a good twenty minutes. She had nice eyes too. I'm a gentleman and notice those things. I had on tighty whities under the dress so I was able to nonchalantly wedge the head of my stiffy under the waist band so that my dress didn't tent up while she worked. She had really sexy eyes.
We won the contest (they said my moustache and hairy legs helped clinch it), but I didn't get laid. I've cross-dressed a couple of times. The second time I recycled the dayglo pink bra from Wednesday Adams and used it to con a drunk girl with great big hooters into taking her shirt off in public. I think my line was, "I bet my bra is prettier than yours."
I did get laid later that night, but by a different woman. She was married, but not to me; and anal sex was involved, but not TO me. I didn't even know it was happening until it we switched positions and she said, "I can't believe I'm sucking your dick after it was in my ass." I guess I should have been paying more attention to where she put my schlong after it slipped out the second or fifth time but back then I didn't know you could do such perverted things in the missionary position, and I didn't know that there were woman on the planet who actually wanted guys to poke their back door. Plus, the bed was spinning, and I was trying to think about baseball.
Now that I think about it, a good lawyer might be able to get her convicted of rape since the anal sex was without my consent, at least the first time that night. I could sue for pain and suffering. If she's rich now I'm sure that I have religious convictions against such an act.
Now that I seriously think about it I can't go to heaven. I'm a sodomite! Sometimes I'm even a silly sod.
She was a very helpful lover because when she sensed that I was thinking about baseball she slowed things down by screaming the name 'Dino'. It wasn't my name or her husband's first name, but I figured that it must have been her husband's middle name, Saul Dino Greenberg sounded good to me at the time.
(I apologize, that's a lie, I just used a technique called 'artistic license' to try to be funny, the truth is that she moaned something about my dick being big and I started laughing, but if I put that in the story it would be embarrassing so I decided to portray some poor jewish guy whose mane I made up as a cuckold and some Italian guy as an indiscriminant cockhound who have no regard for the sanctity of marriage. It was insensitive of me to do that just so I wouldn't risk the world finding out that I have a dick the size of a small cocktail weenie.)
Eventually she made orgasmic noises, so I switched from thoughts of baseball to thoughts of a hot girl at the party who I wished I was having sex with. I came, she left. She was a designated driver and her friends were waiting for her in my living room, or maybe it was the kitchen -- I didn't go out to look. I took two aspirins, drank as much water as I could without puking, and went to sleep glad that there were women in the world who understood that they could take advantage of me when I had been drinking.
I had sex with her again a few days later when we met to discuss my being was uncomfortable with the fact that she was married. That time was in the backseat of her car. She had to park on the street a couple of blocks away and I was gentleman enough to walk her to where she parked. It was probably a bad idea that we had gone to a bar to discuss infidelity. For some reason I wasn't as opposed to nailing her when we got to her car, so I let her take advantage of me again. The compact car was almost as uncomfortable as a futon, and we kept having to stop when people walked by.
That all happened around a Mardi Gras party, so it doesn't do shit to inspire me for a Halloween story. I did get inspired the other day to think about maybe writing a series called 'Chicks I Fucked,' because all three of them were pretty funny events -- so remembering that episode just now gives me a story for that project. I promise to use real names so you guys can figure out if I did your mom or not. All of the interesting things that happened to me were twenty years ago, give or take five years, so I'm guessing the timing would be about right for a lot of readers. And for you older guys; if it was your wife that did freaky things to me back then, you deserve to know about it. You can't have a solid happy marriage without honesty. Tell her that you read all about her on a porn story site that you stumbled upon and accidentally signed up for.
A reader said that he thought I put a lot of thought into my blog posts. Not really. This shit just pours out like some sort of metaphor I can't think of right now.
Anyway, so far I've written a whole page trying to get to the point that I did come up with some ideas for Halloween stories. And because of that, for a few seconds I regretted not entering the SOL contest because I think some of these ideas are winners.
Story idea one:
Little Johnny comes home from trick-or-treating and sees his mother stretched out on the kitchen table with the family cocker spaniel between her legs licking her pussy … and she's dead.
Story idea two:
Little Johnny and little Suzy are brother and sister who love each other very much -- I'd say that they were eighteen for the contest but you can download the story and do a search and replace to put in any age you want. They dress up as a little angel and a little devil and go trick-or-treating around their nice gated suburban neighborhood. After they get to the last house they decide to cut through the woods. It's just a wooded stream between the back yards, but it's dark and spooky. Little Suzy is cold and scared until they get across the little bridge that leads to their back yard. They can see the back porch light on at their house from there, and Suzy relaxes.
"Johnny, have you ever kissed a girl?"
"Eww. Yuck. No. Why?"
"I get all itchy in my kitty, and I want you to kiss me there … to see what it feels like."
"OK, when we get inside and see what candy we have. Mom and Dad won't be home for an hour. I'll do whatever you want."
Just then there is a rustle in the bushes and the sound of pounding foot steps on the wooden bridge. Both kids are startled and take off running as fast as they can, but little Suzy trips. Johnny is too scared to stop and he leaves her behind.
It is just the family cocker spaniel, Thor. He licks little Suzy's face and she giggles, "Oh, you silly dog."
They get in the house and dump out their candy and go thought it all until they get to the bottom of the pile. And there, from the last house -- Judge (or Bishop) Flannigan's house -- they each find … a jizz filled condom with a human eyeball in it.
Story idea three:
An elementary school teacher named Bambi O'Shaunessy-Popodopolous is new in town and fresh out of college, with a shiny new teaching degree and a shiny new job to go with it. She is concerned because in the week before Halloween little Johnny started crying in class for no reason. She decides that something must be going on at little Johnny's home so while the kids are out trick-or-treating she dresses up in her sexy cat costume and drives over to little Johnny's house.
She rings the doorbell and hears a little yappy dog start barking. "That sounds like a cocker spaniel." she says to herself. Then the door opens and standing before her is a large man dressed as a butcher…
Here's a free-form Halloween thought to end things. I watched A Fish Called Wanda the other night and was reminded how hot Jamie Lee Curtis was -- still is for that matter but a different kind of GILF hot. Anyway, I think that she is in one of the Halloween movies with that guy from Austin Powers, Mike Meyers; and you can rent Trading Places if you want to see her glorious breastesses, or if you want to see Dan Akroyd when he was just starting to get pasty and fat. If you're a freak and want to see Akroyd's tits you'll have to rent White Coats, which is a Grey's Anatomy type romantic comedy with jizz jokes, garter belts, pole dancing, and a 'food fight' using human organs. But that's more of a Christmas flick.