Sperm in the Eye? Blindness may result! (part 2)

Sign for "London Handjob Centre" car...

Sign for “London Handjob Centre” carwash company (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My friend who I was telling you about was very inexperienced. And the guy she was with was pretty forceful and insistent. Two other things were working against her. Number one, he kept pushing her head down closer to him—in my opinion because what he really wanted was a blow job. But she didn’t know how to do that either.  And number two, she’s a nurse with a genuine fascination with the human body, so she keep putting her face ever closer to his little rifle.

You can imagine what happened when this guy erupted. Gee whiz! He exploded right in her good eye. The left one. What would have been a totally wonderful moment for him was spoiled by her startled and then terrified screams. She was in both mental and physical agony as the burning started.  He—a total moron—sat there speechless with a now-limp and empty prick.

Well, as you can imagine, she thought she was going blind because this was a long time ago before she became a registered nurse and found out that sperm in the eye does not actually necessarily lead to blindness.

Still, I feel very sorry for her every time I think about what she must have suffered for those first few minutes as they argued about whether to go to the hospital: he didn’t have a valid license and she temporarily had only one valid eye, which wasn’t even the good one. Neither of them wanted to be responsible for the exorbitant costs of ambulances. (Have you called an ambulance lately?! OMG) Neither of them had insurance because he didn’t have a job–unless you counted the illegal drug transaction–s and she only worked part-time as an NA. Neither of them wanted to explain how she came to have a massive load of sperm in her left eye.

Okay, so she didn’t die and she didn’t go blind, but that is not the point. I just want everyone to know how seriously dangerous it can be to attempt the intricate art/science of jerking a guy off if you have no clue what you are doing. So BE CAREFUL. Absolutely no good came from her foray into this unknown terrain. Well, accept that she allowed her infatuation with the workings of the human physique to lead her to go back to school and become an official RN. But some people would say that the two things were not even related. Me, I know differently.

Again, you have been warned! And if I were you, and I was with a guy who wanted a hand job…well, I’d just tell him to go jack himself off!

Advertisements

Sperm in the Eye? Blindness may Result! (part 1)

English: Hand made penis&pussy candy craft at ...

English: Hand made penis&pussy candy craft at “Kanamara Festival” Place:Kanayama shrine(Kawasaki Japan) 日本語: 神奈川県川崎市の金山神社で行われる「かなまら祭」の飴細工の露店で作られた性器を象った飴細工 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Listen, I’m going break one of my own cardinal rules against doing the unthinkable (gossiping) and I’m going to tell you something that a friend of mine told me. NO, I do not have her permission to do so, but so what? I doubt she will ever read this blog and even if she does, I’ll just pretend that I was not referring to her and the horrible blunder she had.

Besides all that, I justify telling you this because it is for your own good! So read on:

I am telling you that if you lack experience, please do not dive headlong into giving hand jobs; it could be fatal… or at least seriously detrimental to the health. When I was like 13, I was seeing this guy who was 17 and of course my parents were really against it, just like all parents would probably be. That meant we had to sneak and do everything. We didn’t honestly get very far before he just got plum fed up with my innocence and total lack of experience.

He was a superb kisser though and a really kinky guy. He was the kind that liked to tell you what he was going to do before he did it, making even the most absurd proposals sound delightful. He might say, for instance, “I’m going to f+*^ every hole in your body, including your ears and then between your toes.” From a distance of over 2 decades this just sounds downright stupid; but to 13-year-old ears it sounds spookily desirable. Especially when one imagines herself to be in love.

Well, one evening we had plenty of time on our hands to take our little adventures quite a bit further than kissing. He kept drawing my hand down to something that felt like a brick in his pants and being somewhat familiar with the male anatomy because I was an attentive student in Health class I knew what it must be in spite of that fact that I’d never imagined that the word “erection” meant anything like what I was feeling through his jeans. He finally unzipped his pants to let the animal loose and I felt my dinner about to come up from my stomach. Of course that would not have been my CURRENT reaction. We’re talking about my first time seeing a naked penis when I was just a grown-up acting kid. He put my trembling hand around the base of it and being that I’d never felt anything so weird (feverishly hot skin that was still just loose enough to move over that massive engorged flesh that seemed to house a freaking BONE somewhere inside) I started crying.  He was so peeved that he snapped at me when I didn’t know I was actually supposed to be moving my hand up and down the length of it. “Good grief! Haven’t you ever jacked a guy off before??”

Okay, not only had I never done such a thing. I had never even heard the phrase, so I couldn’t possibly know what it entailed! I bet they don’t even make 13-year-olds like that anymore, eh?

So that was my first and only jack-off disaster; but that’s because I’m a quick study at anything I do. You, on the other hand may not be. And if you’re not then I suggest you leave this task to the experts because you could get really hurt. In my case, only my ego was a little bruised, but I know of a dear friend who had a near emergency room visit! Let me tell you how that went:

He Couldn’t Contain his Excitement (part 5)

Mistake

Mistake (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

He should never have given me that hug that Mexicans do.  It’s like they squeeze and relax, without releasing you; squeeze and relax; squeeze and relax. By the third squeeze I was lost and breathless and the moan that escaped my lips and entered into him through his ear must have been his undoing.

There was silence. The silence I told you about.

Then his lips began to seek mine. And then I heard that sound; the one that was both full of anguish and pleasure as he grabbed my hand merely placing it on top of the steel rod that he must of broke off of some car he was working on before he left his shop and stuffed it into his pants for protection or something… Or, what was I thinking? THAT had to be his you-know-what! It barely had time to register in my head before he was sighing with relief and his jeans were totally soaked.

And that was it. The end. He couldn’t contain his excitement.

What an incredible let-down. He went home on cloud nine because he’d got to release all that pent-up sexual frustration WITHOUT actually cheating on his wife–if you look at it in a certain way. For me, on the other hand, the sexual frustration was only beginning. I was outraged at having taken such a terrible risk; one that I’m not very proud of because I soooo do not believe in adultery; well under most conditions. A horrible risk and NOTHING to show for it in the end.

As usual, I went to bed alone and the only way I could console myself was to NOT focus on his dysfunction, but to convince myself that it was all because I am such a lovely enchantress that his climax just decided to rush right out and meet me, not asking for his permission first. Yeah, that’s what happened.

 

He Couldn’t Contain his Excitement (part 4)

Stop X

Stop X (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

He knew that anything he said would incriminate him.  Yet he knew that everything rested on what he said next. I picked up where I had left off. “And that’s why I’ve tried to maintain my distance from you: I know you are faithful to your girl and I’d feel like crap if I attempted to interfere with that. I know you’re not the kind to would even consider such things anyway…”

“Oh, sweetie,” he half-moaned.  “Don’t look so sad. I can’t stand to see you with that expression,” he said, taking my face in his hand. I knew this was the beginning of the end.  He was resolved about what he would do, how far he would go.  He groaned, stroking my cheek with his thumb, “What can I do to take away that sad face, huh?”

“Stay with me,” I said plainly.  No need to mince words anymore; it was time to cross over together.

“Stay?” he repeated like he was in a daze.

I nodded like a little girl, not sure yet which character he most liked.

He chuckled faintly.  “How long?”

“As long as you want,” I said, instead of what I really wanted to say: forever.

He made a final brave effort to go. He stood up from the sofa so abruptly that I felt disoriented and humiliated.  My cheeks burned from embarrassment at having been so confident that he couldn’t resist me. “Uh, I better—“

“Yeah, I know,” I said, looking down at the floor.

“Well,” he sighed awkwardly. “Come here.” I guess he wanted to hug me goodbye. I couldn’t. Defeat had me glued to the sofa. I shook my head no.

“Don’t worry,” I said.  “I understand why you have to go.”

“Oh alright then,” he fake-grumbled, feigning gentle exasperation with me and with the situation. “Even if it’s just a little hug…” he said, almost to himself; as if he was explaining to someone like his absent girlfriend or whatever god, or whatever principle may be listening.

He sat back down on the sofa, scooping my unresisting body up into his arms.