It really is all about the sex! LOL!
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-=[ Holidays on Sex ]=-
Reminds me of my safari in Africa. Somebody forgot the corkscrew and for several days we had nothing to live on but food and water.
-- W. C. Fields
Back in my “radioactive” days, when I drugged and drank, The Christmas/ Holiday season was also the high season for drunkenness, getting drugged up, and, of course, getting as much sex as possible. And be honest ladies, many of you were ready, willing, and able to give it up at the office Christmas party! ::grin::
I actually used to “train” for the holiday season. The intensive training began during Thanksgiving, but I really stepped up my game during Halloween, pagan that I am at heart. In fact, my whole year was dedicated to getting myself in “shape” for the holiday debaucheries. Many of you can identify. Of course, the married folk with kids are quite boring, so please just leave now, I really don’t give a fuck what you’re getting for your brats or the Christmas tree or any boring shit like that. In fact, I will stand up for single people everywhere and just say it:
Christmas is for fucking strange people!
Real training began in May, right after my sister’s birthday. The weather gets warmer and three birthdays on consecutive weeks, with mine being the last set me off on a summer romp. Summer is also all about pussy -- at least it is for single people (you married people still reading this?!! LOL). I would spend the summer blasted out of my mind, usually involved in a profoundly dysfunctional relationship which usually ended up in some measure of heartbreak (hers or mine, didn’t matter. What mattered was the heartbreak). Unless, of course, if it was a really good summer and I was getting strange pussy* on a regular. Getting fucked up and fucked was what summer was all about. Then September would roll around and I would have to do some kind of work or sober up enough to take stock of where I was and what year, geographical location, etc. But no sooner Halloween rolled around, with the Village Parade than it would begin again: sex, drugs, new wave music, and more sex. By Thanksgiving, my threshold for alcohol and drugs was once again reaching precarious levels, hopefully peaking during the Christmas season. Sometimes I would overdo it, peak too soon and just burn myself out right before Christmas (but that’s why the baby Jesus invented speed!).
Then the office parties would start and it would be a matter of knowing which office party had the horniest secretaries. I worked in the Wall St. area and the horniest girls all came from nearby New Jersey. The big hair, snapping-the-gum stereotypes would get really drunk, really fuck the taste out of my mouth, and then cuss me out when I didn’t return their phone calls. Everybody’s talkin’ about shoe throwing, but let me tell you that shit ain’t nuthin’ new, I’ve had some of the best shoes thrown at me!
After Christmas came New Years and that was definitely all about the pussy.
If you can’t get laid on New Years Eve, then you should just cut your dick off and give it to science, where it would be put to better use.
My New Year’s specialty was what I called “Blackout Sex.” Getting so blasted, I would wake up next to a total stranger whose name I didn’t even know. Now that was some good shit right there!
It did present some problems, though. One year I woke up after several days and I didn’t even know where I was or what day it was (a couple of days after New Years). All I know is that I woke up in a strange home in someone’s bathtub next to a woman I had never seen before in my life. I thought I was in Brooklyn, but I was wrong... (I was in Connecticut)
Anyway... aside from massive impairment of cognitive functioning resulting from huge loss of brain cells, the holidays were often a lot of fun for me in my younger days. And I don’t care how much you want to deny it, you know you want some strange dick/ pussy for Christmas. Moreover, I’m not talking about the same-o/ same-o boring pussy/ dick you’ve been getting all year (married people!). I mean, c’mon, y’all got the routine down pat: lick ‘em, stick ‘em, and cum. Naw, I’m talking about that juicy strange dick/ pussy shit! And let me tell you: I loved -- absolutely loved -- each and every strange woman that I fucked/ fucked me. Especially memorable was each and every time I slipped into a woman’s velvety pussy. Once connected, I loved every woman I ever had, even those I don’t remember.
So, let’s hear for strange Christmas/ Holiday pussy, there’s no better pussy in the world!
*The term strange pussy was a term a good friend used to describe my predilection to go to bed with women I hardly knew or just met. I guess he was using the qualifier strange to mean new or unknown, not in the sense of weird (though I think it applied LOL).