The EPIC Turkey Day.. ZOMG & THE EPIC XMAS D.T BOOM ROASTED!

Did I just step into my old fantasy land of literotica in this joint?

Well, I'm just fine with that. Another good Christmas in the books, ate a shit ton of awesome food. Drank lots of Bombay Sapphire..enjoyed some basketball and Christmas flicks then went to the bars with a lame friend who I really have no purpose of hanging out with except for the fact that he can get me free drinks here and there because of his bar status. I ended up chatting up a Marine chick and got digits. I also puked up much of my dinner and alcohol but I'm feeling awesome now...ok night. TMI on my part

 

I didn't expect her to come in, it was a surprise.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"I want your penis in my vagina." She undressed.

And I came. 56 times.

The end.

 

You aussies win at having fans.

NSFW

 

Damn, Wheelz. That is pure poetry I say.

You may or may have not gotten me aroused. Ezcuse me, I'm not sober at the moment.

 

What did descriptive adjectives ever do to you, man? I'm pretty sure believable dialogue molested someone close to you and you'll forever seek revenge, but adjectives are nice! Here, let me show you:


The Encounter
a JoeCanada and Pinkcup collaboration

Melissa threw open the door to her bedroom, panting and flushed from her daily run. Her room was well-lit and tastefully decorated, but today she strode past her stylish bed and headed straight for the trifold mirror near her closet door. Unclasping the front hooks of her black sports bra, she shrugged her shoulders and let the damp bra fall to her feet while she stood in front of the mirror to examine her breasts. Her round, bouncy breasts glistened with sweat, but the air conditioning in her room made her pert, pink nipples suddenly and painfully erect. She twisted her slim torso from side to side, examining the shape of her breasts from every angle. She gently massaged her breasts, sometimes sliding a finger over her hard nipples and enjoying the shivers that followed. She took good care of her body, but she'd been so busy at work lately that she hadn't had time to give herself an orgasm in weeks. The empty ache developing between her legs intensified as she softly stroked her nipples, and Melissa immediately decided to give herself some much-needed attention. Just as she was bending over and sliding her spandex running shorts around her ankles, she heard a knock at her bedroom door. Hastily struggling to pull her shorts back up around her running shoes, Melissa stumbled and sat down hard on her carpeted bedroom floor. At the exact same moment, Melissa's friend Stacy barged into her room and stopped abruptly when she saw Melissa naked except for a tangled pair of shorts around her ankles.

"Um...what are you doing on the floor? Are you okay?" asked Stacy.

"You scared the shit out of me! I didn't think anyone was home. And now I can't get these fucking shorts off, either!" Melissa replied in a frustrated tone.

"Sorry, Mel. I finished my shift early, so I thought we might hang out tonight...?" Stacy explained.

Normally, Melissa would jump at the chance to have an impromptu girls-night-out with Stacy. Stacy was a party girl, and Melissa secretly envied her ability to talk complete strangers into crazy sexual shenanigans. She always enjoyed hearing about these trysts over brunch the following day, but the thought of listening to yet another tale of debauchery while she herself was so sexually frustrated was just too much to bear right now. The unfairness of it all was overwhelming and Melissa couldn't keep it in any longer.

"Stacy, I just can't. I've been so busy at work that I haven't had any time to myself for, like, months. I haven't gone on a date in...who knows when? And I'm not like you-- I can't just go pick up a guy or two guys and have awesome sex fifteen minutes later. It's just not me, you know? I swear this isn't judgmental at all, but I need to spend some time with myself tonight. I'm going crazy, Stacy. I really am. You're my friend and everything, but please tell me you understand and you won't be mad."

Stacy smiled at Melissa and knelt beside her. She grabbed Melissa's ponytail and gave it a quick tug backwards, forcing Melissa's face upward towards her own. Her other hand softly encircled Melissa's neck. She placed her thumb on Melissa's lower lip and then leaned in towards Melissa's ear.

"We don't have to go out tonight," she whispered. "And you don't have to spend any time by yourself if you don't want to."

Melissa hesitated. Part of her was offended that Stacy would attempt to recruit her for yet another lusty encounter. Is that what she thought of their friendship? How long had she wanted to sleep with her? Was this some sort of joke? But as Melissa tried to muster up some righteous anger at Stacy, her legs involuntarily parted and she let out a little moan. Stacy pulled Melissa's face into hers and grinned.

"I knew you'd come around," she said. She gently kissed Melissa, sliding her tongue between Melissa's soft lips and her free hand between Melissa's thighs. As soon as Stacy's fingertip softly brushed Melissa's swollen clit, Melissa let out a muffled sigh and started stroking her own nipples. She was so tightly wound from the weeks of celibacy that she orgasmed immediately, gasping.

"Don't stop," Melissa pleaded. "Oh God, please don't stop."

Stacy responded by leisurely licking her way from Melissa's mouth to her clit, pausing only to lightly bite Melissa's nipples on her way down. Melissa shivered with anticipation and with the aftershocks of her previous climax. Just when she though she would die if Stacy didn't put her mouth on her clit, she felt a warm tongue firmly flick her clitoris and she cried out with pleasure.

Stacy kept her mouth firmly on Melissa's clit, licking back and forth and sucking gently. Melissa bucked her hips and tried to further grind her clit into Stacy's mouth, but Stacy threw her forearm across Melissa's pelvis and held her down. With her other hand, she inserted two fingers into Melissa and curled them upwards. The effect was instantaneous-- Melissa had another orgasm.

"That...was...amazing..." she managed to stammer. Stacy held up her two fingers to Melissa's lips so Melissa could taste herself. Melissa licked eagerly, enjoying the mild tang of her own juices.

"I know," said Stacy. "I knew you were going to come. You were so close before I even came in the room."

Melissa ducked her head, blushing.

__________

As Melissa got dressed, she could hardly believe what they had done. She was very confused. But as she pulled a fresh t-shirt over her head, she smiled. She couldn't wait to talk it over at brunch tomorrow.

 

I wanna play too! Give me 15 minutes to come up with something significantly different, though.

 

No, no. The point is to elaborate on the original storyline.

If I could make my own lesbian erotic fiction, I certainly wouldn't name my main characters 'Melissa' and 'Stacy.' Ugh.

 

For sure, I just don't want to duplicate your themes.

I think I got it.

 

ohhhh no.

 

Nom shall not post! (Homosexual male literotica)

 

Melissa didn't sleep well that night.

Her sheets were a sweaty, tangled mess and her mind wasn't much different. She couldn't very well reconcile the fact that she was straight -- and always had been -- with the insistent throbbing in her pussy that was only just dying down. It had been so long since her last orgasm that she'd practically forgotten what they felt like. Now it was all she could do to shove it out her mind enough to get some sleep.

And how was she supposed to face brunch tomorrow? She was well-used to smirking at Stacy's sexual adventures over stuffed french toast and mimosas, but she was entirely new to being a part of them. Would Stacy be so bold as to tell their other friends what had happened? Melissa hadn't even considered herself bi-curious, but she couldn't help her mind from circling a question that she didn't know if she could handle the answer of:

Would Stacy try it again?

-----------------------------------------------------

Melissa woke up without ever having fallen asleep. At some point, her frantic thoughts just bled into the frantic yelp of her alarm clock, and she became acutely aware that her questions were going to be answered. She stumbled into the shower and let the hot water invigorate her.

Without even realizing what she was doing, she began lightly drifting the pads of her thumbs over her engorging nipples. The steady warmth of the water and the lightness of her touch began to excite her, and before she knew it she was kneading her full breasts and following the rivulets of shower water down to her own growing wetness.

Sheepishly, she unhooked the shower head from its perch and brought it closer to her aching labia. The steady pulsation of the water caused the blood to rush and her head to spin. Her mind drifted back to Stacy's expert ministrations, and her fingers found her stiff clit. Softly circling it, she sighed as the pleasure began to mount. The water felt so good, just so

"MELISSA WE'RE LEAVING FOR BRUNCH IN TWENTY"

Stacy's voice snapped her out of her reverie. Slightly dejected, she replaced the shower head and shut off the water. Wicking moisture off of her soft skin with a terrycloth towel, she wrapped it around her waist and headed back to her room. She could feel Stacy's eyes watching her, but was too scared to look back.

Once in her room, she threw off the towel and began lotioning her taut legs and breasts. At times, the creamy lotion and rhythmic motions stirred up some desire, but remembering how little time she had, she ignored and and continued getting ready. But what could she wear? She had plenty of cute clothes, but not a single outfit that said, "Hey Roommate Who Just Fingered Me, What's the Deal?"

 

I believe this is the reason for Anthropologie.

+1, sir.

 

Well Melissa, the deal is this: I'm fucking hotwheelz. I like his penis in my mouth. Your vagina is but a mere afterthought (those are the thoughts AFTER thoughts) when compared to his stiff monument to human achievement. I told him, "Thy rod comfort me.", your rod is non-existent.

 

So, there's this uk hip hop act called 'The Rizzle Kicks' who are doing quite well for themselves at the mo. One of their tunes is a pretty solid track called 'Down with the trumpets', so my mate decided to do his own version-'Let's sit down get a blumpkin' (for those who may be unaware, a 'blumpkin' is when you get sucked off while taking a shit). Thought I'd throw it up here, as it seems to fit the boards collective sense of humour.

 

We had a huge storm come through last night, and it took down a ton of trees, and we only just got power back.






All that was within 100 meters of my apartment.

 

Literotica huh?

Charlwick Johnsonton came home to drop curious and uncomfortable rep points. Curious because they made no sense other than repetition of the words "nipple," "toucan", and "fist." Uncomfortable because all the women and Nom knew he never wore pants when flirting via electronic medium. After eating a can of cold potted ham he perused the Booty Thread. Angry that none of the girls wore flats or had 70s bush that knotted on their taint, he called one of his booty calls that only exist in this story.

She had amazing DD boobs because based on internet forum samples, no girls anywhere have anything less than DD tits. Her name was LaQueefa. Actually, it was Sheryl, but CJ called her Laqueefa because her queefs blew off his hat. Fuck it, her name is Sally because Sheryl is a stupid name for old women. Anyway she had gale force queefs that blew off his hat. It was endearing because it reminded him of spring. Did I not mention CJ wore a hat everywhere? He totally wore a hat everywhere. A sexy hat, not one of those stupid hats. It was made from a sabre tooth tiger pelt. The only in existence. This lended to his mystique which women found as intoxicating as the GHB.

"Time for sexy time," he said to the back of Sher-Sally's head. He hit that shit from behind furiously in between pulls from a bottle of Old Crow he earlier wrestled off a starving panhandler. Sex was often uncomfortable for women as his enormous penis that is much bigger and wider than anyone else's penis, much like a soup can really, barely fit in Sally's vagina. He then passed out covered in his sticky shame. Finally when he awoke his penis was burning and all his money was gone and Sally fallaciously told all his friends he cheated on her and gave her the clap, but the crazy bitch kept calling and filling up his voicemail and showing up at bars where he was and eventually stole his fuckin' cat and stabbed his mattress when he was at work. He never dared to love a-gane.

The End.

 

I'd write a story but I'm not much for creative fiction. Suffice it to say it involves our hero masturbating to the topless scenes in the movies saved to his hard drive because my - I mean, his - wifi connection stopped working.

Ladies.

 

Ok, regarding the literotica:

I have been to a gay wedding, and that shit is still some of the gayest shit I have seen.

 

Awaiting turkey dinner #3 at mom's house with the white relatives. I have set the table three times so far because "napkin points face in, you stupid girl" and "spoons go outside knives! Ay yah, why didn't they teach you these things in that expensive school?"

Ho Ho Ho!