5 years
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I know that what Dad(dy) did to me was wrong but was it really wrong for me to like it? It has taken me so long to be honest with my own s***** needs. Is it really just a coincidence that I followed in his repressed footsteps? While I genuinely loved and cared for all the women I had s** with, I always woke in the night and found myself wishing that the body beside had a d*** and it didn’t even matter whether I had one or not.
I’ve wasted so much of lots of peoples’ time, it might well be argued well–except for that of the mothers of my sons. Both of those big souls were looking to be born–I’m sure of that–and I’m certain that neither of their mothers regret the wonderfully ongoing and evergiving event of their existence.
What’s rocking me to the core of my own existence is a concentration of experience where mortality and s******** are whirling around each other, each uttering demands that have stopped being garbled, as before and up to now, in the urgency of their need of my attention. The obvious one just goes on, fortunately, with that meaty version of tick-tock that always seems in reverse for the first few seconds, but the actual really big event is that I admitted to my just recently ex-girlfriend that, yes, i swear to the spirit of myself, I am a dirty filthy nasty homo f***** b**** who would love to lick her next fucker’s come right out of her c***, while she calls me every dirty name in every language that she knows, as said fucker’s k**** f***-any-hole friend shoves his hot meaty f***-pole up my oh-so-delightedly-eager sissy-b**** c*** while both of the only real men in the room discuss, between manly grunts of pleasure, the nature of the necessary punishment that I deserve for the crime of rejecting my masculine obligatory destiny, and c****** in the greatest surge of s***** pleasure that I have ever felt as they agree, conclusively, that the only fair and appropriate sentence is that I should be taken to a public place, where my testicles will be severed from my body, as the whole male community engages in whirling dervish dances, while the women tend, out of ritual duty, to the newly empty space that still seems so painfully huge and my nurses whisper soothingl that i should be grateful that I have been rescued from the morbid burden of trying to be a man.

New Confession

Many mornings i sit on my front porch with coffee and a cigarette as a relaxing way to watch the world wake up. This morning i was doing so with the residual taste of the male runner i orally please (usually weekly but sometimes more frequently) still clinging in my throat. An older couple was on ther morning walk today, i see them occasionally. She was the usual casual wave and good morning but he did not even glance my direction. She called him out on it and told him to at least say good morning, and they were on their way again. As they walked away he turned and looked back at me with an uncertain ezpression on hia face I hope she did not give him grief later, because i know why he was acting awkwardly. About six weeks ago he made his first visit to my back yard shed to take his own pleasure in my mouth. It was actually emotional for him because he had not gotten any relief in a very long time. I told him he was welcome any time. But like many older married men he was truly suffering the guilt and shame of taking his pleasure in a man’s mouth and for being unfaithful to his wife. But naturally after getting the incredible pleasure i gave him as i reverently worshipped his hard hungry male flesh…he told me during and after that he had no idea such pleasure existed…his guilt and remorse and shame got to him and after a couole of weeks i assumed he would never return. But sure enough, i eventually saw him on a morning solo walk and he came up to me unable to even speak or ask, and i simply had him follow me to my back yard shed and without speaking i gave him what he needed again. And of course afterwards despite his enjoyment in the moment, he was in tears again and said he could never do this again. But a week later, he was back for more. Then again a few days after that This is where we are at as i saw him on his walk with his wife this morning. I have sincere empathy for his inner crisis, and he kmows if he comes back for more he will get it time and again. I know it sounds arrogant but i know eventually he will come back again and again. Not because i am conceited but because i simply know men and the type of man that seeks what i give them on my knees. He will come back because they all do eventually this is simply how some men get what they need and i enjoy giving it to them for a host of reasons…..from the diary of a closet neighborhood cocksucker

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