Freaky deaky Saturday II: ethics (or the worst sex scene you’ll ever read đŸ˜ž)

Guys, I really am sorry about this story. Unfortunately, it’s only going to get worse from here 😭

I thought about Susan’s, as me, proposal.

But I didn’t want to suck a dick. Was it gay to suck your own dick? What if you’re currently a woman and suck a dick that belonged to you? But I was in a woman’s body that wasn’t my own. Was it wrong to suck a dick then? But what if you had permission, or in fact was forced, by the rightful owner of that body to suck a dick that belonged to you? Was THAT gay?

“I suggest a counter proposal,” I said to Susan. “I’ll agree to your terms IF, if, in addition to sucking your dick (that is, in fact, MY dick) you eat my pussy (that is, in fact, YOUR pussy).”

Susan, in my body, thought for a moment. “Fuck it, why not?” (s)he responded.

We both stripped down. Susan’s body that I occupied was a toned work of art. Meanwhile, Susan (in my body) removed her clothing, revealing a disgusting, hairy, and flabby body.

“So this is what it’s like to have an erection,” (s)he said.

“For fuck sake, let’s get this over with,” I replied.

I, being the woman this time, climbed on top while Susan, the man, laid beneath me. I placed this exquisite looking vagina onto Susan’s face while I shoved this pathetic penis into my mouth.

Honestly—getting your pussy eaten—pretty good experience. Almost made me forget that I was blowing myself.

“I’m about to come,” Susan, as a man, screamed.

Oh shit, I thought. I wasn’t prepared to swallow semen.

“I wanna bust in that pussy (that is, in fact, MY pussy),” she said.

Relieved, I stood up and (s)he bent me over the couch and shoved in the full 4.5 inches. At first, it occurred to me that size indeed DOES NOT matter.

“Damn it!” Susan yelled. “Your dick sucks!”

Nevermind then.

(S)he started to speed up until finally pulling out and blowing semen in between my butt cheeks.

“Gotta say,” Susan said, “it’s better to orgasm as woman.”

I laid down on the couch and covered my naked body. Was it worth it? Sure, I rationalized to myself. Too bad I didn’t come though.

After Susan washed up, she put on a suit and tie. She made me look the best I ever looked.

“Alright,” (s)he said, “let’s go find that warlock.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Freaky Deaky Saturday

Sorry about this story everyone 😢

“Shut up bitch!” I said.

Then she kicked me in the nuts with her pointed toe stilettos.

As I writhing in pain on the floor, Susan stood over me and said “I’m getting that job you limp dick bastard! Not you, not the board, not anyone can stand in my way!”

Susan stormed off and all my coworkers stood around. “I’m fine,” I said. “She barely knicked my ball sack.”

I crawled back to my office and shut the door. I took the bottle of vodka out of the refrigerator and placed it on my crotch. Bob Dickenburg came in laughing.

“Susan’s a firecracker isn’t she!” he said.

“To put it mildly,” I replied.

“Look, don’t worry about her,” Bob continued. “The board loves your work. You’re definitely getting that job.”

“I better. I’m gonna have to pay for scrotal surgery soon,” I said. I then lifted the bottle of vodka to my mouth.

“Well, we’re gonna announce the promotion on Monday. Go home, enjoy your weekend, and don’t worry yourself over it.”

I nodded to Bob as I swallowed the vodka. I didn’t get much work done that Friday afternoon. I got too drunk.

As I roared my Ferrari back home, almost hitting several motorists, I accidentally plowed my vehicle into a hooded figure. I grabbed my beer and exited the car to check on the person.

The figure laid on the ground, body parts were completely mangled. I kicked his side.

“Hey buddy, are you alright?” I asked.

The figure sat up and snapped his limbs back together. It was disgusting. Finally he stood up and removed the hood.

The man appeared to be blind. I figured that’s why he was standing in the middle of the road. He was ancient, like a warlock.

“You shouldn’t drink and drive,” the man said.

“Oh it’s okay, I’m rich.”

He then lifted his hands to my face and began chanting something in Latin, Greek, or some bullshit I didn’t understand. After standing there for a few moments, he lowered his hands and slowly wondered off.

“You don’t want any money out of my wallet?” I asked.

He didn’t reply.

I finished driving home. I stripped off my clothes, climbed in between the sheets, and fell fast asleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I wasn’t hungover. I also didn’t have rock hard morning wood. Something was amiss.

I sat up in bed and didn’t recognize the room. It was a woman’s room.

A nude man with a rubber mask came crawling in on all fours. He stood up, his partially erect penis inches from my face, and he handed over a cock cage.

“I’ve been a bad boy mommy,” he said.

“Mommy?”

I stood up and looked in the mirror. And there she was: her tall slender frame, small perky breast, and that stern resting bitch face.

I was Susan.

Or, more precisely, I was in Susan’s body. And presumably she was in mine.

“That fucking warlock,” I thought. “I hope Susan doesn’t look at my penis.”

I looked over to the nude man. “Sorry bro, I ain’t gay,” I said. I then threw on some clothes and sped over to my own apartment, expecting to find Susan in my body.

I stormed into my room, and there was me, or rather Susan as me, sitting prim and proper and drinking coffee.

“Look Susan,” I said, “I know that all of this is weird. But we can undo this. There’s a warlock I know that can put us back into our own bodies. Let’s go!”

“Why would I want to do that?” she, as me, asked.

“Well you’re me. I’m you. You know….”

“But I know that you’re the one getting that promotion. Or rather…I’M the one getting that promotion.”

“Susan, we don’t have time for this shit. We need to be looking for this warlock.”

(S)he took a drink of the coffee and slowly put the cup down. “I’ll cut you a deal,” (s)he said. “I’ll help you find this warlock, but first we should take time to appreciate this situation.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve done fellatio before, sure. But I’ve never had MY dick sucked…” (s)he said.

My heart began to sink.

“Will you suck my dick?” (s)he asked. “Or rather…will you suck YOUR dick?

TO BE CONTINUED

existential dread

“Your test results are positive,” the doctor said as he sat grimly behind his desk.

I took a deep breath. “What does this mean?” I asked.

“You’re perfectly healthy. Not a damn thing is wrong with you. You are going to live a very, VERY long life.”

I sighed.

“This is terrible news doc.”

THE END

nicholas cage: the biography of nicholas cage.

It must be difficult being the greatest living actor.

From the time he recited the alphabet in Vampire’s Kiss, the world would never be the same.

Sure Nicholas Cage smashed box office records, won Academy Awards, and had sex with Patricia Arquette, but there was one thing he could never land: the role of Kal-El, aka Superman, in Tim Burton’s Superman Lives.

It’s a loss from which the world will never recover.

So our national treasure had to wonder the earth, forced to take whatever role was handed to him. But there was a gap in his soul the size of $6.5 million worth of unpaid back taxes.

But in his mind, he remains the invincible hero we all know him to be—thanks in part to prolonged cocaine use.

Nicholas Cage: The Movie.

A film by Nicholas Cage

another underrated experience: walking

“What are you going to say now James? That you’ve never walked a step in your life?”

That is correct.

But I get the appeal.

And I’m not talking about “hiking” or “speed walking”. That’s some white people bullshit.

I’m talking about walking in a straight line on a flat plane. It’s great: putting one foot in front of the other, just wondering aimlessly because you’ve got nowhere to go because you’re unemployed and your kids won’t talk to you.

Nothing beats it.

Except for black tar heroin.

midlife crisis

I ain’t gonna lie.

I did exactly what I wanted to do for nine straight years: drink in excess.

So it’s hard for me to say that I regret nearly a decade of my life. There were some great fucking times.

But were there regrets? Situations I could’ve handled better? People I could’ve been nicer to?

Oh yeah! You bet!

The truth is, where I came from, I overstayed my welcome. A good friend told me, for my own well-being, that he better not see my face in these bars ever again.

He meant it.

I never returned. Never spoke with him again.

Some things are meant to be forgotten.

But I can’t help but think: do all my old friends hate me? Do they think about me as much as I think about them?

I suppose that we all separated for the better. It just nags me that there are those I spent years with, whose lives instantly got better once when I left.

Of course my life got better too when I left them.

Maybe I’m just overstating my self importance.

Maybe it’s hard for me to accept that time is gaining on me.

writer’s block

“Give me a ticket to the farthest away place you fly,” I asked the airlines employees.

“That will be $38,762 sir,” she replied.

I handed her my credit card.

“Would you like to know where you’re going?” she asked.

“Nope”

Hours later the plane landed. At the airport people were shitting on the floor and speaking a language I didn’t understand.

“Where is this shithole?” I asked my cab driver.

“This is Indianapolis sir.”

THE END