But lately I've been suffering from a fate not too many orders of magnitude removed from the intentional and forced non-exchange of air.
And that would be holding my testes.
In other words, I got me a seeming 40 gallon sac full, peoples. And since I'm in the habit of spasming it into my girlfriend on a regular basis (although occasionally into toilet paper while sampling various fortuitously arranges sets of pixels on a computer monitor), well, it's driving me "nuts", as they say (although this the first time it ever occurred to me why "they" say "nuts"... wow).
It's getting bad. I'm actually kind of squeezing them a bit between my thighs even as I type, complete with an occasional squirm. But I'm also burdened with a perpetual almost "going to the screen" for aforementioned pixel arrangements. Except I really want "the real thing", and so I'm basically dying, here, trying to avoid the pixels, lest the hot salty cauldron of potential generations to cum prematurely burst into a lesser sperm-spangled banner, if you will.
It didn't help that a friend recently attached to email a "waist up" picture of a woman he thought had particularly nice breasts. Oh my fucking God, did she ever! Gravity basically put its tail between its legs and scampered off all whimpering and ashamed in the direction of the nearest space-time singularity. I suppose the nipples could have been a little puffier. But I didn't complain. Nor did I succum(b).
Needless to say, my girlfriend is in for a Damned Good Time tonight, if not sooner. I haven't brought her to the throne of God with my tongue lately either, come to thing of it, but I suspect I'll be pulling out those and various other assorted stops as part of my grand celebration of finally moving this motherfucking mind-sizzling goo from loin to loin.
(Pauses to ponder "Loin and Loin" as a law firm name.)
Honestly, I'm short of breath, and can scarcely attend to much of anything. This makes caffeine deprivation seem like white collar prison. I'm counting the milliseconds.
