The Hand, Cock, And Infinite Rage.
It's 7am. It's a hot sweltering ninety degrees outside.
I'm staring at the ceiling of my bedroom in what is my dilapidated apartment.
All I could do the first time getting up was watch some pornographic videos. The video I started watching involved in what appeared to be a Russian brothel.
A blonde woman speaking Russian wearing a red blouse and black skirt with a white pearl necklace around her neck escorted a fat grotesque looking bald headed Russian man to a room where a young naked blonde woman was sitting on a bed like she knew her purpose for being there.
The escort whom you assumed was a mistress or madam extended her arm into the room where she smiled to the man afterwards closing the door behind her only to never be seen again throughout the entire video.
The grotesque bald fat man undressed himself and immediately gestured that the young prostitute in the hotel room suck his cock. She took a face fucking very brutally all the while swallowing one of his loads in her mouth as semen or cum dripped from her rosy red lips.
The man was saying somthing to himself in Russian laughing as he repeatively slapped her ass making the whole entire absurd spectacle not just sexually erotic but also a comedy.
You think to yourself there is somthing particular to Russian or eastern European porn that makes it rather comedic in the variety of themes that they use. You wonder why other porn directors in other parts of the world weren't catching onto their superb genius.
The Russian man kept fucking her from behind slapping her ass laughing to himself where everytime he did slap her ass she in response only moaned all the more louder. It was like a musical of grunts, growling, and ecstatic moaning.
Back and fourth he would switch from fucking her vagina to her asshole switching repeatively periodically.
I personally just think that he couldn't make up his mind which he liked better.
After he fucked her in the asshole she seemed only too pleased to crawl on all her fours coming up to him afterwards in sucking his cock again the very one that came out of her ass a minute ago prior. Watching you wonder to yourself if the taste of her own asshole was still present on what she was sucking.
Her breasts were firm and so were also her hips. Her stomach and her legs were nice too in that they had a smooth texture.
Her face was also beautiful and adorable too complimenting her blonde hair. I could definately understand his wanting to face fuck her.
There really is no short of appreciation from a woman when she is choking with your cock in her mouth or throat.
As usual the whole time your watching your captivated imagining to yourself being inside the woman that is being desecrated on the screen.
Your watching wishing you yourself was the one partaking in the film where it was your own phallus doing the penetrating.
It was only last night that you jerked yourself off to sleep to a mini porno of some woman getting fucked in a massage parlor where sexual screaming and erotic moaning of the video put you to sleep like some hypnotizing lullaby of a woman shouting with your dick still in your hand.
Then again it makes sense as to why your personal libido is out of control where you can't remember a single day not beating or wanking off.
It's been six miserable years of sexual absence where the sweet nectar or ambrosia of pussy juice is but a distant memory to you.
You feel sexually repressed and forced into a celibate lifestyle not of your own choosing where your alone, miserable, or emotionally unstable where all you have is that damn computer screen right in front of you. Even celibate priests have alter boys. You have nothing and nobody.
You then begin to stare at your hand.
All you have is your own loneliness and shame.
A hand is no simulator for a vag where not even those specialty items at those human depravity stores known as sex shops that capitalize on other people's loneliness will do either.
Masturbation becomes your shame, dishonor, depression, and more importantly your own emasculation as a ongoing reminder of what is also your own powerlessness or social debasement.
You hear about those who speak about the virtues of self control but you think to yourself shortly, at what point does self control become my own prison?
At what point does self control become your own prison of self abandonment?
You have hungers, cravings, instincts, and impulses out of your own control that you need to be fed but are unable to by willing participants.
Eventually you start thinking about raping a woman in real life violently assaulting yourself onto her and more importantly being inside her.
You see the act as the ultimate liberation of your isolation, shame, dishonor, depression, emasculation, powerlessness, and social outcastment.
The act itself becomes your own pure ectasy, liberation, nirvana, and self indulging pleasure.
Your anger in assaulting her becomes your rage in not being able to become loved yourself by a woman willing to do so by her own will.
Your anger stems from the fact that you yourself have been reduced to embrace the desperate act itself.
Somewhere in the sadistic act of sexually assaulting the woman in your imagination as your ravishing her you think of all the women who have rejected you based upon superficial notions of what you have or don't have. You think to yourself of all the times being rejected for being poor, having little status, having very little social power, and for physically being just average looking.
While raping her it becomes even more of a liberating expirience because you think of the tyranny set against you that your rebelling against in the act.
With this in your thoughts there is only the sadistic satisfaction of it all. There is only your own pleasure being acted upon and affirmed.
There is only you feeling alive.