Masturbation Marathon Part 2Posted: May 10, 2011
Another installment of masturbation madness:
Tuesday, April 5
8:30 am –
I woke with morning wood. How convenient! I rolled completely onto my back, closed my eyes, or rather kept them closed, and began my stroking. I imagined a cute girl with her hair in a bob and her bangs brushing against her eyebrows. Her eyes were big and green and gazing up at me as she, on all fours, sucked me off. I imagined her mouth with dull red lipstick, smudged on her small curly lips; two pale flames stretched across her morning face, two pale flames dancing back and forth and around my cock….. I finished in her mouth.
This was an ideal masturbatory experience. Everything was natural, my imagination got put to use, and all from the comforts of my warm little bed. A nice way to start the day.
Over breakfast I was pondering the Savage Detective by Roberto Bolano, in particular, the scene where young poet Juan Garcia Madero masturbates to a poem he’s just discovered by Efren Rebolledo (1877-1929). Feeling intrigued, I pulled the book from the bookshelf and read over this section a few times. I brought the book down to my room thinking that I would try and masturbate to this poem sometime in the future and see what results would yield. At around noon, after catching up on some correspondence, I crawled into bed and began touching myself. I started thinking about my friend ————, who has been mostly platonic, although we have a had a few quite nice exceptions. While thinking about her on top of me, bouncing softly in half light, I flipped open to the poem by Rebolledo and began reciting. I think I made it through the poem 3 or 4 times before ejaculation.
The poem is very good but I’m not sure if it helped me cum quicker. Also, I can’t help but feel a little bit like an angsty, teenage bitch. Here is the poem in full:
Whirling your deep and gloomy tresses pour
over your candid body like a torrent,
and on the shadowy and curling flood
I strew the fiery roses of my kisses.
As I unlock the tight rings
I feel the light chill chafing of your hand,
and a great shudder courses over me
and penetrates me to the very bone.
Your chaotic and disdainful eyes
glitter like stars when they hear the sigh
that from my vitals issues rendingly,
and you, thirsting, as I agonize,
assume the form of an implacable
black vampire battening on my burning blood.
~Documented by Michael Mckinney