Wasting Time Making Time

The idea of tanric sex always seemed so boring to me. I don't really want to do anything for six hours at a time, unless it's laying across my couch, smoking weed and watching a Top Model marathon. Well, I guess for some people, that could sort of be on the level of orgasmic.

But really, I have friends who'll talk about how they love fucking for hours, and they do it on the regular, and all I can think about is how unappealing that sounds to me. I mean, the chafing alone. But there have been like two or three times that I've engaged in a nonstop marathon sesh. Of course, every single one of those was drug-induced. And the one that took place in my bedroom this weekend was no exception. It was fun at the time, but I'm dealing with the aftermath right now. I feel like I got hit by a car and immediately underwent an episiotomy. Everything is sore—my neck, my back, my pussy and my crack.

I'll spare you the gory details—'cause you know, there was some tearing and blood. I'll spare you a lot of the normal details as well, because I have a feeling that reading (not to mention writing) a literal blow by blow of three hours worth of sex isn't nearly as engaging as actually engaging in it.

I'd recently taken a much needed, lengthy break from the booger sugar, but this weekend I indulged (or relapsed, depending on who you ask). I was recording a podcast with Drunky Brewster (which will be posted here on 4/20) and we couldn't very well do it sober. In fact, coke was instrumental in one segment of the show that required us to each powder our noses. I figured that since I'd already crossed one line, I may as well snort the rest of them, which meant I was very drunk and very awake for a very long time.

Coke has always been somewhat of an aphrodisiac for me, not necessarily for getting me in the mood (because normally, I'm in the mood), but as a tool for getting me in a dirtier mood. The more coke I do, the more adventurous and disgusting I want to become during sex. Like, if it weren't for coke, I probs never would've licked a dude's asshole, or agreed to tell some dude that I like his cock in my mouth (while it was still in my mouth), or voluntarily yelled to some dude I barely know that I love how he fucks me. I even credit coke with enabling me to take it up the rear.

I'm glad I've done all of those things, because I've had a lot of fun. So I guess, in a way, I'm glad that I've snorted away thousands of dollars in my young life, because those experiences have been worth it. Oh no, even the damaged-cartilage resting in the center of my face can smell a mock MasterCard commercial coming on:

• Bikini/eyebrow wax: $60
• Bar tab: $40
• Bag of coke: $50
• After hours bar tab: $20
• Another bag of coke from the after hours dealer dude: $20
• Cab fare: $14
• Getting licked all over your body and fucked all over your apartment for three straight hours: Priceless

I was glad that on the night I decided to re-open that baggie of worms there was an available boy with whom I could spend the early hours of Sunday morning. We did a number of different positions, shit that my thighs are paying for now. I never worked my body so hard. Amidst all the vigor (which included both vaginal and anal), that thing between my butt and vagina sort of ripped. (It still hurts when I try to bend over to put on shoes, so I've only been able to wear slip-ons all week.)

For some reason I was really into sucking dick on this particular occasion, like, more than usual. I think I almost threw up about five times, from some serious deep-throating. Anyway, while I was fortunate enough to cum like a million times (well, closer to like 10 or 11), the dude was limited to the amount of times he could climax—which turned out to be two. On his last go, he asked if he could cum all over my lips and of course I said, "Sure, yeah."

Between the gallons of saliva produced from my gagging and the giant wad he shot on my lips and up my nose, the lower-half of my face was caked in goo. By this time, it was 11 a.m. and I was finally ready to crash. I wiped my face on my already soiled sheets, crawled back up toward my pillow, and collapsed into it.

Several hours later, my severe hangover kept me from being able to sleep any longer. I tried to lift my body up, but my neck and shoulders were destroyed. I'd given so much head that I could barely even turn it. I opened my mouth to bitch and moan about it, but while I could part my lips slightly, the rest of my face was frozen in place—and I knew why. It was all the dried cum and saliva. That realization made me laugh, which cracked the dried body fluids on my cheeks and around my mouth—I literally cracked myself up. I left the boy on my bed and headed into the bathroom. I was able to chip and peel that crap off my face as though it were a Freeman Cucumber Masque. I finished washing up and limped out to the living room, feeling every ache in every nook and cranny of my body.

I parked my ass on the couch and ordered some greasy food. Then I packed my bat, lit it and as I exhaled, scanned my DVR for Top Model eps. I knew what I'd be doing for the next six hours or so.

Comments

[foshizz]

What a cool story. Sore, fucked-out pussy - is there a better kind of pain?

[Guv]

Love it.

[Claudea]

Yeah I understand. Although I never had coke, i'm always more into it when I smoke weed...

Sounds like you had a great week-end!! :-D

[the cajun boy]

those are fun times. i've had a few of those marathon fuck fests in my life and as i'm usually out of commission for about a week afterwards. i was dating this girl from miami last summer and i went down there for a 3 day weekend and i swear i came 14 times in 3 days. all we did was bang. we rarely left her condo. she was insatiable. on the last day i was there her pussy began to bleed frequently but she would not stop. i'd go sit out on the balcony and look out towards the ocean... "oh, that's nice" and next thing i know she'd pull me inside and we were fucking again. i was a wreck for the next week. my pelvic area was all bruised and my cock was just wrecked. the worse pain was that area just north of the cockbase...it was something about the way she rode me...it was like her pelvic bone was digging in to me or something. good times.

[Tracer Bullet]

Damn, baby. I've been unable to walk after sex, but this is beyond the pale. Of course, I've never taken cocaine or sucked cock either, so maybe I don't have enough context to judge.

[zoey]

Man, what a facial.

[Boober]

Perineum. That's what the thing you tore is called.

[♥dex]

Crazy lady.

My marathon fuckfests have happened on speed, e, or a combo of e & k.

And 10/10 Dicks for the Khia reference alone.

[jenner]

Damn it, why can't I have these marathon sessions?!?!?! It's been way too long, damn it....I think I've rusted shut.....LOLOL

[jana]

jizz is good for your skin and you're making me wish for booger sugar; albeit it's been a long time.
**toasting your pussy with a glass of V8**

[Blair]

I have got to download that solid gold song...my neck, my back, my pussy, my crack.

And I will have to use the "toasting your pussy with a glass of V8" at least three times today.

[hotcoffy007]

i think the cajun boy has more stories to tell, at least i hope so.

[Gretch]

That area is your taint.
Where the fuck is the podcast you promised woman? I can't wait.

[caroline]

haha, i loved peeling off that freeman cucumber mask when i was younger. it was like dried elmer's glue peeling off your hands.

i definitely don't feel the same about jizz though. having it that close to my nose would've make me puke all over.

sometimes marathons are fun, but to me after a certain time, it barely feels good anymore unless you give it a rest for a bit. luckily once my boyfriend cums, he's done for the night so i just work on him once i get bored so he'll stop. haha

[licoricepirate]

lmao i own that facemask
great visual ;P
wuts this about a podcast?
u must make one :O

[l.a. lemonade]

ya know, there's this guy i've been obsessed with lately because we always have the most amazing wild and crazy marathon sex until the sun is blaring loud and wide in the sky and i was thinking we had this great sexual connection and that he's the best in bed i've ever encountered and that he can really get my inhibitions down like no one else. but it just occurs to me as i read this that i dont think we've so much as kissed without doing mountains and mountains of blow first, even doing lines before next morning sex because he has a fairly serious coke habit. which might explain everything and now maybe i can listen to my friends who are telling me he is really not obsession material... thanks slutmachine for the reminder/ wake up call!

[D]

You totally freak me out. In a good way, though, so keep it up.

That will be all for now...

[Sabina]

So where's the "reader's pole"?

[Encountered]

"...laying across my couch, smoking weed and watching a Top Model marathon." Awesome.

I've never done coke, but your story totally reminds me of those old tampon ads: With Tampax I can swim, go horseback riding, etc.

On coke I can lick some dude's asshole, fuck for hours, etc.

You rock!

[Jennifer]

you and YouTube user, lickmyasssober, should really active share