I probably haven't mentioned recently, or haven't cared to mention, that I've started doing more hours at work, which is doing its best to cut down the amount of time I have to blog. I mean, yeah, I'm finishing in the middle of the afternoon, so that should be okay, were it not for the fact that I'm coming home to sleep, as opposed to doing anything radically productive.
I also haven't had any time for sexyfunthings. It occurred to me yesterday afternoon (when, in between shifts at work, I'd managed to escape to my parents' mercifully empty [apart from the cat] house) that I hadn't had an orgasm in over a week - which, although perfectly bearable, is pretty unusual for a sex blogger who's just spent a year being really horny and has had free afternoons and a weekend.
So I relented. I locked myself in the bathroom (although I needn't have locked it, really, since there was nobody there [apart from the cat], but I did it out of habit) and, with an odd swooping feeling in my stomach, I unbuttoned my trousers; I was hard before I even got my pants off.
I'd almost forgotten what my erect penis looked like. But this time, unloved for a while and starving for a bit of attention, it was certainly different. Much harder than it's been for as long as I can remember, and bigger too (increased bloodflow? more space to breathe? nuclear radiation mutation? Bueller?), and also with a darker head - not massively, just more so than I remember. It looked, frankly, more like a cock out of porn than anything else - huge, hard, visibly throbbing, a thin lining of pre-come glistening from the tip.
I took my time over the wank, building myself up as much as I could before I came, and the result was almost indescribable, but I'll attempt to do so here:
As a side-effect of this, my cock was noticeably more difficult to wipe clean, as there were errant strings of come on more bits than usual (plus my hand, my pubic hair, and in my belly button). I kept finding more and more to clean, and I could have sworn I was just producing more and more as I went on. Nevertheless, with a sense of something between slightly sickened and sweet worship in glory, I ascertained that everything was back in order before returning to the lounge (avoiding any accusing gazes, or I would have done if there had been any - but there wasn't anyone there [apart from the cat].)
Back to work for a while and I finally, after about thirteen hours' time, made it back home in the evening. By this point - drained of energy, drained of semen, and having had a lot of fun at work but running back and forth with crazy mania in the process - all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and fall unconscious. That happened last week, but I had 'flu, so it may not have had the same gravitas.
I draped all my clothes loosely over my computer chair and drew my naked form into a sitting position at the head of the bed. My girlfriend had started watching a film review on YouTube, but was more absorbed into a copy of Empire. I was half-paying attention before I realised that I was, again, hard - although not as much as I had been earlier (but that may be impossible) - and suddenly came to the realisation that I'd been making myself hard...
...by squeezing my shaft very gently between my index and middle fingers.
I wasn't even aware I was doing that. It was just something to do with my hands, like fiddling with a bit of Blu-Tack or twirling a pen through my fingers like a majorette's baton; I wasn't attempting to elicit any response and I most certainly wasn't going to have another orgasm. My penis just happened to be in the way and...
...well, you get the idea.
So I'll say one thing for increased working hours. They certainly do encourage me to discover even more about my body than I thought was possible. And, hey, I get paid for it, too!