The Greatest Lesson I Almost Didn't Learn

When I was but a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. When I got to be twenty one, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years. ~ Mark Twain

Live Full. Die Empty ~ Les Brown

I was raised in the church. Or at least, in my early years. My grandmother was a Sunday school teacher and heavily involved in not only the church activities, but the community as well. She would go and help the old ladies that couldn't make it to church anymore with stuff around the house. Yardwork, bringing them groceries, cleaning up the house. Things that they couldn't get to on their own anymore. And since I was the son of a single mom and spent a lot of time babysat by the aforementioned grandmother, I ended up spending a lot of time around some of the elder folks as well.

I lived a lot of my young life bored to tears, in other words.

What I didn't realize at the time was that I was being given an early glimpse of the end of life and the perspectives that go with it. It used to just drive me crazy to have to sit around and listen to the old folks go on about all the things they wish they would have done, boast about the surely exaggerated things they did do. Over and over it was the same old thing. I used to get sick of hearing it. It wasn't until later that I really heard what they were saying.

What all of them were saying.

And more importantly, what they weren't saying.

I didn't hear them complain of things they did. I always heard them list the things they wish they would have done.

All independently of each other, in their own style and speed, they would start off talking about the good old days, and inevitably end up strolling down wishful lane and how if they just had more time to do the things they had never gotten around to... A choir of the wise, singing a tale of warning to those of us who think our lives will happen by "getting around to it, eventually."

I have the words "Live Full, Die Empty" tattooed across my upper back after hearing a keynote speaker thunder them into the audience, and it hit me like a thunderbolt.

So whenever you, gentle reader, see me revel in my own adventures, especially shortly after they have occurred, and ask, "Why is he always out there like that?"

I have to ask in return, "Why are you not?"

Until next time....

Angelus

The Easiest Money You'll Ever Make... Volume 1

Sometimes you just get flat out lucky. There's no other way to describe it. And I'm saying this because I'm watching my business grow overnight.

No kidding. And I'm skeptical. I only believe results.

Well, I have results now. 5 people on my team in 2 weeks with next to zero effort on my part. So keep that in mind as you watch this tour. It's no BS. People love this and it's easy. Not only that, but it's easy to market yourself in a big way with very little time and energy involved thanks to sites like twitter and craigslist.

Now here's the best part about this, the lucky part: I got in early. Like, pre-launch early. Every other time in my life I've ever bumped into an opportunity like this, I always missed the gold rush and things were 10 times harder for me than the people that got in early. The person that sponsored me has put in over 20 people in no time.

www.AllXClubPro.com/1935001/?promo=trial <--click here and it will walk you through everything you need to know. Email me at DrAngelusBone@gmail.com with any questions.

Do yourself the favor to check this out. It's even just $1.99 if you want to give it a 3 day test drive, and there are no contracts, so you can quit anytime you like if you wish.

Update 05Apr09 Been a little busy lately, haven't been updating this as often as I should be. Checked today, team is at 11 people. Some of my downline members are starting to replicate... This is REALLY starting to get exciting.

Update 22March09 Another person signed up, I didn't catch it immediately... But hey, that's the problem we pray for, isn't it?

Update 14March09 11:13pm. I made a couple of mentions on twitter about what I was doing and another person signed up. Brings me to 6.

Until next time...

Angelus

The Prayer of Thanks

"Sometimes, no matter how long or hard you've loved someone, they'll never love you back. And sometimes, you have to be ok with that." ~Unknown

"Adversity introduces a man to himself." ~Unknown

I'm not gonna lie. I've spent a good portion of my life getting my ass kicked by, well, life. Seems like the beatings have come from every direction and from every possible level of person in my life. And for the longest time, it just hurt. I wondered what I did to deserve it. Then I started to identify with it. Started to tailspin as I figured somehow that's what I was meant to endure.

I grew up without much in the way of role models. Over time I sort of picked out my own. Now that I look back, that was a blessing. I'm not locked into trying to live the way, "My pappy always said..." I get to pick and choose my own titans to emulate. Alexander of Macedonia, Abraham Lincoln, Sun Tzu, Superman, Lex Luthor, Benjamin Franklin, Leonidas of Sparta... the list goes on.

And as time has passed, I've realized that where you start is, in many ways, a blessing as well. I've seen what became of the spoiled, soft children I grew up with. In times of trial or hardship, they crack. Or cry. Give up. A few toughen up, but most whine instead. It's not a brag or boast when I say that the only thing in life I really have a talent for is picking myself back up again.

But then, isn't that power? The definition of a Juggernaut is simply something that can't be stopped.

I've learned to be thankful to life itself for the blessings of tribulation. To see each thing as a lesson to be learned.

No sword on earth was forged in a pillow fight. It takes fire, followed by the hammer and the anvil, back to the fire again.... The sharpest swords were folded on themselves hundreds of times. So now I see these things in life, the lessons they present, for what they are, and over time, I've gathered something of a prayer to remember them by. Off the top of my head, here's what I remember at the moment, but I'll collect my thoughts here more often.

The Prayer of Thanks

Thank you for the pain, for it has made me stronger. I hardly even notice it anymore.

Thank you for the lonely times, for they have sharpened my appreciation of those that matter.

Thank you for those that have wasted my time, for it has reminded me of times value.

Thank you for those that didn't appreciate me, for it has reminded me of my value.

Thank you for the near misses, for they have reminded me of how much I have left to do.

Thank you for starting me off at the bottom. I may not have learned how to climb otherwise.

Thank you for starting me off poor. I know the value of simplicity.

Thank you for starting me off a weakling. I know the horror of the bullies victim first hand.

Thank you for starting me off timid. I know the life of the meek, and choose not to live it.

But most of all, thank you for the coin toss that kept me in the womb. It's all the chance I'll ever need.

Until the next time...

Angelus

I put a spell on... me

"Experience taught me a few things. One is to listen to your gut, no matter how good something sounds on paper.” ~Donald Trump

I had this gut feeling once. It was about this girl that started working with me at an overnight job I had for a little while. She was quite sexy, but my oh my was she stuck up. To the point of arrogant, really.

Fast forward about four years, and what do you know, I was right. I can logically point out just exactly how stuck up and arrogant she is and all the ways it undermined our relationship.

What goes in the middle is something of a tale. We started talking a little bit, went to breakfast a couple of times. Started IMing back and forth, one thing leads to another... And four years later I've finally parted ways with her. Finally, and couldn't be happier for it. And I don't mean break up and move away, that was done a while ago. I mean I finally started seeing past the spell I put on myself and actually seeing her for what she really is, and I couldn't be more disgusted. Not even interested in being friends anymore. And the sickest part of it all is that I knew all this deep down the very first time I met her, but I talked myself around it.

Going to school, your teachers always tell you not to change your answers on the questions you aren't sure about, go with your first choice. It's probably the correct one. That has continued to be true over and over since then. I've met people that just make the hair on the back of my neck stand up, only to 'work past it' and find out later I was dead on in the first place.

The real question that looms, to me, is, "Why do I keep doing this?"

That took some reflection to figure out. And a lot of it happened during heartbreak and/or rage because, you guessed it, I had been taken to the cleaners by a supposed friend or loved one on some level. Not gonna lie, I've been made a fool of a couple times along the way. Not often, but every once in a while somebody makes it over the moat, the wall, past the guards, fools the council, and then convinces me that they're something other than what they are. And what allows this to happen?

Good old hope. The very thing that keeps us going in the first place can sometimes be an overachiever and let us think better of someone that really didn't deserve it in to begin with.

It starts slowly mind you. They have some trait or attribute that you just love about a person. Just ache to have. It's your fetish, your obsession, draws you like a magnet. And once you get your hands on it, you may as well be trying to pry crack from an addicts clenched fist to let go of it. Then starts the spell weaving.

You start thinking of all the daydreams you've ever had about you being happy, and they're in the picture. Laughing, smiling, dancing, moaning, sleeping beside you, there when you wake up and there when you get home, just the way you dream of life being. And here's where it begins.

You start to associate them with your daydreams. Not what you're seeing right in front of you. What you hope for. And the worst part is, you don't even realize it. It's all happening deeper in your mind than you can even rationalize. You start to argue with friends and family, start to excuse the person as their instincts are screaming, but you've muted yours in lieu of this new feeling of trust and love. And it's not even real. Your hope has cast a spell on you and you don't even know that it happened.

And here's the real kicker. After you finally realize that you've made a bad choice, these mental associations with the person will trigger aftershocks for months, maybe even years. And the worst part is, some of them won't even be real.

The first girl I fell head over heels for broke my heart from a couple thousand miles away when she called to tell me, "I found somebody...."

I had dreams for months after that. All of the things I had imagined with her, all the little mental movies I saw in my head were playing, laid out like a scrapbook of images suspended in space, framed like postage stamps. And burning. Us at the alter. Us at the beach, dancing as the sun set. Waking up in the morning. All ablaze like someone had lit the corner of every poster at the movie theater. It was literally like my mind was torching all the connections I had made to her for the future. In a way, it was cathartic I suppose. I thought they were nightmares, the torture of some angry demon inflicting pain into my heart and mind, but eventually they stopped, and I even stopped thinking about her.

To conclude, my only point is this: listen to the precious council of your gut feeling. Consider it's sway when it bellows in your ear. I'm sure at this point you've thought of a few instances where you ignored it, only to regret that decision later. Don't become a slave to it, ignoring all thought. But listen to it's vote whenever it presents itself.

Until next time...

Angelus

Solving The Worlds Problems One Moment at a Time, 1st Edition

I've heard it said that it's not the fall that kills you, but the sudden stop at the end of it.

Oddly, that is strikingly familiar to sleep and alarm clocks.

Very recently I purchased an alarm clock that plays a CD in the morning. In this CD player is Azam Ali. Best, most refreshing way to wake up ever as far as alarms go. However, there's an even better way. And, were this to be culture at large, I think the world would be a happier place. I always am when things start off this way...

So we have option A)

You're sleeping soundly until the alarm goes off. Out of your dream you are seized, and into the jaws of the beeping siren. Jarring. Next to rude, and certainly not what we look forward to when we go to sleep, but like a good beating, we know it's on its way.

Option B)

(PS if you happen to be sensitive, this would be the place to stop)

Before we get started, I want you to understand that this is no fantasy of mine. When I was last in a committed relationship, this was standard practice...

I used to use my cell phone alarm to wake up to. Put on vibrate and under the pillow, it was effective, but not jarring. This largely depends on the phone and the pillow, and if done incorrectly can seem like your head is strapped to a jackhammer. The purpose was to wake up quietly, though.

Then I would gently slide under the covers, down along the sleeping form of my lady lovely. Very gently I would take one of her feet into my hands and slowly start to massage it. Usually she would come awake with an, 'mmmmmm,' as well as a stretch and roll over so that her feet were easily reached. A good massage on the first foot, working my thumbs along the arch and around the heel, then onto the second. Along with the second, however, I would start to caress her calves with my lips. Tender kisses along the curve of her calf as I massaged, slowly working my way up and down the back of her calves with my lips...

Now, as you have no doubt guessed, my massaging hands would become caressing hands as I continued kissing my way along the backs of her things, up and down, teasingly closer to the bottom of the curve of her ass. Fingertips, sometimes even fingernails dragging a little bit, up over the curve of her ass, across her buttocks, biting just a little, around and around the curve of her perfect ass...

Then up the small of the back, tongue dragging along her spine. Her back arches, pushing her sweet ass in the air at little at first, then more with each pass until she's pushed so far into the air that the lips between her things have started to show. And this is important, as I start to kiss my way down and around the curve of her ass again, breathing against her petals as I pass by them... moans starting to escape her lips.

"I want your tongue in me..."

Now I pull just a little on the bottom of her ass where it meets the thing, pulling apart her petals... Ease my tongue just along the edge so she can feel it, ache for it...

As you can imagine, the morning was, well incredible for all parties. Or, you can look forward to the echoing, blaring scream of the alarm clock jarring you from your deep sleep cycle...

Until next time....

Angelus

Expiration Dating

People always come into your life for a reason, a season, and a lifetime. When you figure out which it is, you know exactly what to do... ~Author Unknown

I find myself having the same conversation a lot. It is the fork in the road before I enter into one of my discreet, up front polyamorous relationships. Clarity is established as to the paradigm of the person I'm talking with. If we are not of like minds, we typically just decide to keep things on the friends level. Better to have things clear and no hearts broken than somebody thinking we're headed somewhere we're not and end up hurt.

Yes, take the time to absorb it: I have a conscious. Just don't tell anybody. It'll ruin the reputation of my icy exterior.

The real matter at hand here, though, is what I like to call the "and" principal. All too often, people like to make things either/or. For example:

"Should we run advertising OR hire a sales force"

My answer: do both. Integrate the two modalities as they exponentially assist each other.

"Should I remain an employee or become a business owner?"

Well, again, not a bad idea to start working your business on the side as you are working full time, that way you keep the lights on while building your pipeline. Just don't do this if you have an employee agreement or non compete clause of some form. See, 'and.'

But my most favorite arena to apply the principal of 'and' is, you guessed it: My sex life.

"Should we be friends OR have a sexual relationship?"

And.

"Should I be searching for the love of my life OR having short term sexual relationships?"

And.

I know the immediate answer to most of these. That bringing sex into the equation usually fucks things up. And you are right if, like anything, it is done incorrectly. Here's some ways to screw up adding sex to a friendship:

1 Not being upfront and communicating what each other expect.

2 Not respecting the wishes of each person involved. Some want discreet. Some don't care if their whole social circle knows. Whatever the case, communicate your concerns and honor the agreements you make.

I have sex with a lot of my friends. Always have. Not ALL of them, and certainly not the ones that don't feel comfortable or aren't able to separate the autopilot mentality of sex=feelings of commitment=long term relationship=marriage=kids=etc, etc, etc. Now, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. To each their own, always. It's just not me. It's also not all of my sexy female friends. And thank god for that.

Now, this brings us to the second 'and' I mentioned. I like to search for the love of my life AND enjoy sexual relationships along the way, however long their natural life cycle may be. Maybe it's a couple of weekends, maybe it's a couple of years. Only the future really knows for sure.

The way I figure it, when I meet that special lady that is as on fire for me as I am for her, our life timing is right, we have all the magic, well, not a damn thing will stand in the way of that. I won't have to be talked into forsaking all others. I won't be able to see them past her. And I know this is possible because yes (brace yourself again), the bad doctor has fallen head over heels for someone and couldn;t give a shit less about another woman if you tried to pay me. But, as so often happens, they didn't feel the same way and I was left to deal with the fallout. Suck, but that's life.

But until that time, well, life is full of amazing, beautiful, amorous women that think like I do. And funny enough, I'm due to have dinner with one in about 30 minutes....

Until next time....

Angelus

You don't have to lie to kick it

Fair Warning: This is a topic I get a little riled about, so expect some profanity. Ye be warned.

First of all, this post is dedicated to all of the weak, spineless douche bags that think you need to lie, deceive, or break hearts in order to have all the sex you want.

Fucking shame on you. But I'm going to assume you just don't know better, probably learned these bad habits from some shithead friend of yours that told you that's the way to conduct business. As he learned from another, and so on back to the original weak fuck that couldn't get his business handled any other way.

I want to make one thing clear: This shit is not necessary. Period.

Allow me to make clear some things you may have missed.

Point A) In our busy society of civil rights becoming balanced, the classic roles of men and women balancing, and everyone being nightmare busy, things are changing. More specifically, there are WOMEN BY THE MILLIONS THAT JUST WANT TO FUCK. Think I'm kidding? There are studies on it. Look them up. The percentages of women surveyed who aren't interested in the prospect of marriage or even commitment is growing exponentially, especially in the first couple of decades after they turn 18.

Point B) Women need to get laid as bad or worse than men do. Think I'm kidding? When you itch your ear, which feels better, your finger or your ear? Or how about this: Who can have multiple orgasms , men or women? They need it as bad as we men do, they just know how to hold out longer to get a better deal than we do.

Point C) Most women have the urge to get laid in a bad way, but they don't want to hear the backlash of their friends and coworkers running their filthy tabloid mouths about it. They simple opt to go without sex if the consequence is hearing their girlfriends badger them about it. Notice how many women are all over you until their cock blocking friend "talks sense into them."

So what does this stack up to? A lot of women want to get laid, have no interest in being committed because they are nightmare busy with their career, schoolwork, life, etc, but don't want their dirty laundry running the streets.

Here's what this means to you: Sharpen up your woman meeting skills instead of your deceiving. I'm willing to bet that if you were to go out tonight and meet 100 women and tell all of them that they shouldn't go home with you because you're not the commitment type you would have a surprising amount of them want to take you home BECAUSE YOU WON'T BE CLINGY. Moreover, once they trust you to keep your mouth shut about their business so they can still be a 'lady in the streets, but a freak in the sheets' you will become one of their main sources of booty call action. Think I'm kidding? I've built a modern day booty call harem this way and the women in it are HAPPY TO BE A PART OF IT. Why? Because they know the deal and they're ok with it!

My last and final point is this: Arrange your agreements, whatever they may be, and stick to them. If she wants to know if you mess with anybody else before you two have another round, and you agree, HONOR IT. Or whatever agreements you make. It's far better to part ways friends after having some fun than to have your lack of integrity advertised on her blog, myspace, facebook, twitter, and whatever bathroom stalls she can find. Fuck her over, she'll make you a legend in a way you won't like. As you deserve.

Until next time...

I'm doing my part!

I know what you're thinking, he's about to go on a rant similar to a recruiting poster...

Nope.

I do, however, believe that when a person identifies a problem, they should also suggest a solution. More to the point, they should take action.

"Be the change you want to see in the world." ~Mahatma Ghandi

Where am I going with this? Well, gentle reader, I did my part under the spirit of St Angelus. That's right, I laid into a sweet, sexy lady recently divorced and alone on Valentines day. Her ex had the kids, and she got the Manaconda.

For future reference, this how I roll. I identify an "area of issue," brainstorm a solution that's a win/win for everyone, and then TAKE ACTION. And it turns out my idea had merit, because as she was trying to brush her FFH (Freshly Fucked Hair, the style I personally find to be the hottest any woman can wear) back under control, she was thanking me profusely for saving her from the chick flick and red wine evening alone she thought she was doomed to. What did we have instead? Dinner at my place, then talked about life next to the waterfall (yup, got a waterfall in my living room, directly across from the fireplace) over wine as the food settled. Next was relaxing on the couch watching a movie, curled up on the couch in each others arms.

And then, well...

And then, well, some more...

And then, well, what better way to wake up...

And again...

So we're clear, I want you to know that there are no deceptions here on either of our parts. We aren't committed. We are amorous friends if you wanted a label. Point being that everybody is on the same page, there are no expectations other than the pure enjoyment of anothers touch, conversation, and company that we all need now and then. All of this is under the umbrella of understanding that two friends can reach and enjoy if they're lucky. Don't break anybodies heart just for that touch. But if you and a good friend can be open, honest, and realistic with one another, you very well could get to enjoy the pleasure of some of those friends you are just dying to tear out of their cloths. More often than you think, they feel the same way and just don't know how to proceed...

This is the spirit of St Angelus. Long live that blessed Saint.

Until next time...

Saint Angelus

Fair Warning! I've been thinking again. Read at your own risk...

So today is Valentines day, which is wonderful for all the folks who have somebody to go to dinner and movies and such with, even of they're just a loaner for today.

But what about all the single folks? More specifically, the single women? What, they're just left out to hang? I call bullshit, and follow it with a proposal.

I hereby propose another saint to go along with today. Think of Santa Claus, but for the single women for valentines day. We can call him, in honor of his humble creator, St Angelus, and every Valentines day, he takes all of the women to dinner that don't have a date of their own. And he has two lists, naughty and nice. But believe me, the naughty list won't get you a lump of coal for this holiday... You'll be left panting happily with a fresh case of Freshly Fucked Hair and memories of a wonderful evening as you drift off to sleep.

And now for the best part: You don't have to buy anything for the holiday? How nice that we don't have another St Whoever trying to rape our wallets?

Until next time...

Why I want to have a threesome

Just so there's not an ounce of confusion, I am (effin damnit) a threesome virgin. Hint hint, ahem...

But on this topic, I want to explain why I am AMPED to get into one.

Firstly, the most erotic thing on this planet to me is the sound and/or experience of a woman having an orgasm. Then the second... then the third... It's just hot to me. Problem lies that I just don't have enough of the right appendages. I have the Manaconda, two big, strong hands, and a tongue that can work wonders. The problem lies in logistics. I can tease a clit with my tongue as my middle and ring finger hook just behind the g spot. That does nicely. I can penetrate and work my mouth over the breasts at the same time. Not rocket science.

But as flexible as I am, I can't run my tongue over a clit while the Manaconda is working. I'm just not Gumbi. This is where I need the aid of another woman in the mix. Allow me to explain...

Probably my hands down favorite position is what I call 'Laid Back Cowgirl.' Me on bottom, sitting back, but propped at about a 45 degree angle against some pillows. Her on top, but facing away and leaned back against me, me in her from behind. This allows the most wonderful ability for me to stimulate. I can work in from behind, but also reach around and work the clit at the same time with my fingers, caress or firmly squeeze her breasts with the free hand, bite gently or firmly the neck and shoulder, kiss the ear..... It's just magic. Hands down magic. And a perfect way to work a woman through a series of pretty bad ass orgasms.

But with another woman in the mix, it just gets better. As good as my fingers are, there's just no way they are as good on the kitty as a set of tongue and lips. As an ex once told me, "Oh my god that feels good. I wish you had more mouths.."

Oh, wait.... I can.

Take laid back cowgirl for example. It's already starting off well, but add in another mouth to work her kitty so that I can move the bottom hand back up to the breasts, wallah. And I'm sure once the three of us are 'on scene' that our creative juices will, well, flow.

But here's the real fun of it: I can go and go and go all night. I wish the energizer bunny had a cousin that looked like Jessica Rabbit so we could play my favorite game (Viking and Temple Maidens, in case you're curious) until somebody drops. So for sequence of events, myself and Lady B can work over Lady A until she is jello. Then I switch to Lady B as Lady A is letting the twitches work their way our of her system (oh you poor bastard if you don't know what the twitches are). Start bringing her up to hot and bothered, and about that time Lady A is ready to help finish Lady B off, and repeat.

The goal here, just for my curiosity's sake, is to find out how many orgasms the above average woman can have before her nervous system just won't let her walk anymore.

And unless I miss my guess, a couple of women want to find out, too....

Where do we... begin...

I guess I should start at my moment of conception. This, however, may not be the moment you are thinking of...

I was, by all appearances, nearly 18 years old. Six foot one inches tall and all the body mass of a scrawny teenager that grew too fast and never gained the weight to go with it. Luckily, my face doesn't look like my neck threw it up (I feel sorry for you fuck ugly folks out there. Life is fucked up to you, no lie. A sense of humor combined with booze, however, can take you a long way...) and I'm possessed of something of a natural charm, so I managed. But back to the matter at hand...

It could be said that I've always been drawn to the bad side of things. For example I, grandson of the poster child of racist bastards, lost my virginity to the only black girl in a small, backwoods town not even big enough to merit it's own post office. That went over like a fart in church (The town did have a church. It was across from the town gas station). I quickly made friends with the worst each neighborhood had to offer. They always seemed to have the most fun...

But this brings us back to the story at hand. The aforementioned (gorgeous, perfect ass, big lips, perky tits, and could keep up with me, which turns out to be a hell of a thing) only black girl in town and I had been 'going steady' for a couple of months, but being a bit shy and gangly, I hadn't 'made my move.' I didn't have a move to make, to be honest. Clueless as to how to move from point A to B.

Now, the place where myself and the local version of the Dalton Gang hung out was actually a condemned double wide trailer. Now before you start the name calling and assumptions, the only reason it was a double wide was that what everybody stayed in after they bought their acreage, but before the real house was built. This particular trailer had suffered a tree fall during a storm, and although structurally just fine, the insurance company condemned it or something and it was 'unlivable.' As if. That became the flophouse for our little crew of miscreants. The rules for sleeping were pretty simple: Couples get couches, the rest sleep where you drop.

This brings us back to Carmen (yes, the town black girl had a hispanic name. Don't you know some of the yokal douche bags tried to make her life hell for that). Her and I are passed smooth out from the prior evening drinking, video gaming, smoking (let your mind wander), and such. For whatever reason, about 8am one of the two of us stirs and we both end up awake unnaturally early. This, of course, leads immediately to a heavy handed make out session with some serious second base. Then, and I'll NEVER forget this look as long as I live, she pushes me back a little to ask, "You wanna?" accompanied with the quick, mischievous raising of her eyebrows.

Even my rookie ass knew what was up at this point. Game time. My pants didn't so much come off as I morphed through them like a ghost through a wall in a B movie. As effectively as we could, we managed to get her cloths off under the covers without me showing the pale moon. One last check to make sure the room full of collapsed bodies are still sleeping off the nights intoxicants, and in I go.

Or somewhat. Wet or not, it took me a few strokes to work myself in. Into heaven that is. And then the moment of my birth...

I finally worked in to the hilt, all the way. She's biting her lip and digging her nails into my back just behind my shoulders (gangly or not, I've been blessed with a cock that should be featured in porn. Seven and a half inches and thick. Just enough to make you love me, not enough to kill you unless you're an asian woman that hasn't had kids yet). And just as I finally work as far as I can go, I stop. She looks up at me as if to say, "Don't fucking stop there."

And I smile. I am home. I am where I belong. The rest of the world, the rest of existence, time, space and other dimensions can kiss my ass. It all fades away and all I can think of is how incredible her hot, wet, tight pussy feels clinching around my shaft. I smile.

Then I cross my forearms under her back, hands locking onto her shoulders. She gasps a little as I pull out slowly almost to the tip. But it's the first full stroke back in that makes eyes roll back and the sweet sound of an unsuppressed 'uuungh' escapes her lips before she can bite back down on her lower lip again.

Now, I make no attempt to make any brags here. The beauty of anonymity is that you don't have to lie (not that I would, because I have balls and broad shoulders and can handle the messes I make) about shit. I don't have an identity I'm trying to brag up. However, being that I was 18 and still hadn't lost my virginity yet, it's almost a surety that I'd masturbated away eny nerve ending my cock ever possessed. Add to that the fact that I was packing chainsaw all day working in the logging woods, and you have the ingredients to make one in shape white boy that can last a while. And I did. That poor (blessed maybe) girl got all of the adolescent aggression I could hammer into her. Just under 18 years of haven't gotten laid yet was taken out on her in what can only be described as a turbo driven thrill hammer.

I lost track of anything not having to do with the most amazing feeling I had ever experienced. Her body was amazing, the product of mixed race parents, summers swimming, and the rest of the year riding horses (I think I remember her barrell racing or something...). And I was fucking her like it was going to be the last time. Eventually my hands moved down from her shoulders to under her ass to pull her hips up into mine. Finally, the old familiar stirring begins, warning of the arrival of that sweetest of lifes moments: O Town.

So we're clear, I haven't a shred of human though left at this point. There is no logic. There are no consequences. There is only the pending explosion as I drive into her harder and harder in the pre cum thrusts. And then it hits. The first stroke wasn't the mother load, but the second cumming stroke almost made my back break itself. Then another. And another. I think I pumped her full of cum from previous lives. I finally finish and collapse, but only for a second as life slowly starts to bleed into my mind.

Yes, you have ground your knees into the couch cushions for who knows how long. Yes, you are still in a room full of people. But no, there isn't any snoring...

Just as my eyes go wide, one of the sleeping members of the crew passed out on the floor sits up and looks straight at me. Every ounce of my timid, self conscious, shy being is screaming, "Please don't say anyth..."

Wrong. In a speaking voice well past "outside voice" but just under "singing the national anthem," he sounds off with, "About fucking time you finished. I've been laying here for two fucking hours." My eyes whipped to the clock, hoping to undermine his gripe. No such luck. 10:30am.

To my horror, the rest of the hung over zombies start to rise out of their laying state. Honestly, at that moment, I was wishing they were merely zombies intent on taking a bite out of me and ending the embarrassment that is sure to kill me dead where I lay. Instead, it was all of my friends coming to the sitting position to fire off the comments they had been forming and honing to perfection in the two hours of hammering they had politely not moved for.

I look back now and have to laugh. Even with a legacy left behind like that, I still didn't know what to do with it. Today, I would have capitalized on all of the other girls in the room that were so very friendly after that...

In closing, be careful who you launch a sea of baby makers into. Was she hot? Fuck yes. Was she crazy as all hell. Fuck yes more. Did I know that then? No. Did I quickly figure this out? What do you think? My first experience with sex was followed closely by a pregnancy scare the likes of which should have left me sterile just from the fear of being stuck with her for the rest of my life.

Until next time...

Welcome One And All

I'd rather you hate me for everything I am
Than have you love me for something that I'm not
--Five Finger Death Punch


Just so we're clear, when I say 'welcome,' I do mean it so very conditionally....

If you have all the emotional intelligence of a whining junior high cheer leader, I don't mean you.

If you're of the swirling masses that can't appreciate the good things right in front of them for the greener grass you think is somewhere else, I don't mean you.

If you have to lie or deceive to get your way in life, I don't mean you.

If you're passive aggressive or cowardly, I don't mean you .

If you're thin skinned or don't have a sense of humor, I don't mean you.

If you're scared of sex or try to make it rocket science, I don't mean you.

If you hate a person for their sex, skin color, disability, or anything else they had no control over, I don't mean you.

If you're high drama for no good reason, I don't mean you.

If you don't understand what it means to honor the agreements you make, I don't mean you.

If you claim to follow the teachings of a peaceful leader, but use them to try to enforce hatred, intolerance, bigotry, or meddling in general, I don't mean you.

I will add to this list, check it frequently.

Most of you won't like me, but then according to the 80/20 rule, you can't.

Some of you will hate me. That's fine.

Some of you will love me. That's good.

Some of you will be loved by me. That's better.

Some of you will experience me. That's almost devine.

One of you will make me forget all others, and what a story that will be.

Until then... My adventures are yours....

Angelus