Profanity warning
I'm not sure, could this guy grow to become an anti-hero of a novel? What do you think?
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HUMBERT THE 3rd, 2010
In websites for meeting people, I always set the search engine for women over forty and girls below sixteen. Experience shows that these are the two age categories in which females are so horny, that they are beyond the boundaries of what is normally allowed. The little chicks with huge shades, screwing up their lipstick and curving their bodies suggestively as they take their own pictures in the mirror. Do they know what it is they are suggesting? Do they know what I think when I see a tongue peeping from the corner of their lips?
Well, the older ones know for sure. They're desperate. They are ready to go to the greatest depth of self humiliation in order to procure what they obviously think they missed out when they were twenty and thirty.
While the little chicks tend to try to dress and look like older chicks, many of the older chicks try to compete with the younger chicks by looking like them. Also screwing up their lips, also curving their bodies, holding up their cellphone slightly above their foreheads.
Sometimes I feel like flicking through the older sluts, looking at their loose tits, their heart-breaking attempts to look 'in shape'. Heart-breaking but not erection-breaking, luckily.
At other times I prefer the teeny future sluts, who actually take pics of themselves while in their bedrooms, with posters of their favorite performing sluts on the walls, with their bunnies lined up on their beds. This is also heart-breaking. And also... cough... inspiring.
But I'm no predator no, not even a stalker. Just a wanker. And there's nothing wrong with that, unless you are some superstitious girl. Do you think I steal your soul when I pull at my schlong as I take in your comfy Donald Duck socks or vulgar high heels?
The good thing about the Internet is, that even if you get second thoughts and take down your photo, it's too late. I've already copied it. And perhaps even uploaded it on some wank-exchange site. It's a brotherhood of the jerk-offs. We have to lend each other a hand. Not in that sense of course.
Remember the joke about the dude looking at chicks pass below his window? "I've done this one, and I've done this one, this one I haven't done yet!" And he starts jerking off. Haha.
Well, chances are, I've done all of you my pretties.
I am after all, a lonely middle-class white man of thirty three. Neurotic latent gay with a mix of yuppie and anal fantasies. Or maybe the two always go together. Statistic shows, that people like me are the most likely to end up in a hospital because a banana has gone too deep up the butt.
Not that we're gays, not openly anyway. For myself I can say with conviction that I want women. But since I never seem to meet the women who enthusiastically offer to do what I dream of... In short, if you want to get a job done, do it yourself. Hence x-rays revealing deodorants and gherkins and candles up the guts. Not that that's ever happened to me. But I think I know the feeling which would drive a person to do such a thing.
It's the pressure, the relentless stress. I mean - we all know who the minorities are, the disadvantaged. But when you start dividing the population, you start amputating chunks, wheat does that leave you with in the end? The senior and minors go first. Then the women. Then the gay men. Then the non-whites. Then the mentally disadvantages and the phisically disadvantaged. Who's left? That's right - me. The non-old non-crippled white male adult from a non-destitute background. Pleased to meet you. Come on, shake my hand. Later on, as I fantasize what I do to you and you to me, I'll pretend it's your hand. Maybe I'll even lick it.
Perhaps when I someday find the right woman, I'll get married, settle down, grow a gut and the stress will be less. Perhaps. I doubt it. If it worked out that way, then why is everyone over forty on antidepressants?
Why put it off? Maybe I should go to a doctor and get my prescription right now.
Naaah. I prefer spending my nights hunched over my computer, taking in the endless parade of faces and bodies. I'm kind of used to that. There's a certain comfort that they will always be there. That you will always be there.
I am a representative of the only non-minority. The world is on my shoulders so to speak. Atlas wanked.
I'm a teacher of geography. Right, I know what the capital of the tiny self-styled soviet republic existing inside Moldova is. And I bet you didn't even understand what I just said. Let's try again - I even know where lake Victoria is. No it's not in England and it's not in Australia.
I teach eighth to tenth grade. This gives me an opportunity to collect vital real-life impressions of girl, without which my masturbation would be a much less inspired affair.
Naturally I wouldn't touch a girl that age. Teachers who touch girls of this age end up with donuts instead of assholes, 'cause they go to prison.
And although I do indulge from time to time in the blacks-on-whites thing (as a viewer naturally), I would prefer not the be the 'white' in this equation. Nay, let the trailer trash sluts do their thing, and I'll do mine. As I watch them do theirs.
Let me rephrase that. It's not I'm particularly enamored with trailer trash sluts, but that's what we get in porn these days, don't we? Grotesquely muscled creeps who mumble to themselves as down and out chicks strain to show pleasure at whatever kink is currently fashionable.
And why do these men make themselves into walking lumps of steroids? It's all the same to me to whom the penis is attached. As longs as it's doing what it should be doing. And I hardly think someone tells these guys, "go work up some bulk dude. We have a female audience you know."
As everyone know, the chicks don't dig that kind of porn in the first place. They want port with foreplay - castles, dresses, kidnapings, vagabonds, the whole lot. They're not like us - we're quite happy with a floor on which someone is being screwed, end of story. No character developement. But noooo, the chicks need a soap opera in porn too. I suppose the next wave of porn for chicks will be about vampires. Or maybe it already is, I'll check it out one of these days.
So perhaps these dudes work up a bulk just out a feeling of insecurity. Like the dudes in prison or the dudes who play hard-core music. They're all the same - tattoo-covered pumped-up morons who... Erm, who get to do the chicks which I don't.
Anyway, back to today's porn actresses. I remember a time when the women in porn did not look like the people who ask for spare change for 'a ticket home' at the bus stations. Back then a porn actress would be pretty, and would believe in herself.
People didn't want to fantasize about screwing broken homeless teens back then. No, back then wankers had some class and so did the actresses. And even the acters didn't get in the way with their biceps and triceps, they would be normal skinny chaps or chaps with pot bellies, but above all, they would all be with police mustaches, wristwatches and socks. Ah, people really had values back then, not like today.
Perhaps I'm in such a nostalgic mood, because I watched just such a movie an hour ago.
The actress was old-school: not a Latina, nor an asian girl, nor trailer trash, but the pseudo aristocrat of a bygone era. You know - a special haircut, elegant earings, a fake pearl necklace. Even long velvet gloves.
She moaned with great abandon as she was pumped by a guy with a police mustache and a wristwatch. At one point she threw back her head so abruptly a lesser creature would have broken its neck. But not her, she was a pro through and through.
As she neared her 'orgasm', the veins on her neck and the muscles of her jaw strained so threateningly, that combined with her general Nordic features the whole scene suddenly reminded me of Arnold Schwarzenegger bulging his eyes and gasping for air on the red sands of Mars in Total Recall.
I do have something like a girlfriend thought. She's twenty two and sells clothes in the mall. She had a studded wristband, I had a Lord of the Rings t-shirt... We went to my place.
But frankly, with me, the novelty wears off pretty quickly. Three months at the most. These three months have long passed, and in the last half year, I've had to down three beers and maintain a parallel flow of pornographic images in my brain, in order to not go soft on the old gall.
I think she's staring to feel this in her own special intuitive simple minded way. Her simplemindedness is heart-breaking. These days, also erection breaking. In fact, I don't feel like I want to talk about that anymore. Time's up. My porn's almost downloaded, so I'll just go and take a piss, in order not to ejaculate too quickly, and then it's time to return to my roots. And balls.
