Always keep tissues handy when working on your tool
Well, I used to let things go in my trousers when I was little, it was fun, the climax usually ended in a good night sleep, but as times went past I upgraded to various materials. Finally I have a dedicated tissue pack which I use to clear the area and a dedicated restroom to wash myself. But my fapping routines are mostly once a week or twice AT BEST.
However, we all have been there, like you know 14-19 years old time frame where your dick was a baby making machine and wouldn't go down. From mornings to sleepless nights, all you could think was just fucking fucking.
But I am sure none of us did this:
This wasn't from today, but a story from my youth that I've decided to share. Throwaway account for obvious reasons.
So, I was a horny 15 year old living with my parents. I had a fairly rigorous masturbation schedule (2/3 times per day) and I looked at all sorts of porn. Hentai, teens, creampies, everything on the popular porn sites. In general, I used a regular rotation of dirty laundry to catch as I was finishing, and this system worked pretty well until one fateful day when everything went awry.
I don't know what it was about that day, in particular, but I was hornier than a toad. I felt like I could've gone 10 times. Lo and behold, on that glorious saturday, I reached that mark (which, to this day, I have not bested). By the tenth time, very little was coming out, and I decided I was finished with finishing.
Here's the fuck up: I used the same old white t-shirt to catch every single time. The reason this was a fuck up: I could not, in good consciousness, put this wretched cloth in the laundry basket. Aside from the fact that it might dirty up the other laundry in vile ways, my mother might see it.
And so began me and that white shirt's fateful journey. For an entire year, I, an incredibly sexually depraved 15/16 year old, exclusively finished on old whitey 2/3 times per day. With every passing day, my shame grew, I was less inclined to put the shirt in the laundry, and the shirt became (apologies for the vulgarity) crustier and crustier. Seriously -- after about 6 months the thing was rigid as hell. It was more Frisbee than cloth. Whitey had absorbed mass and hardened, and was fully capable of bludgeoning a grown man to unconsciousness. If bent properly, I have no doubt it could've been used as a bowl. Absolutely. Fucking. Horrible.
Cut to a not-so-horny Saturday. I was playing video games on my xbox. I hear my mom coming down the stairs and into the family room, where I was.
"grosstimes! I have a question."
"Okay, what---"
She was there. Whitey was there. In her hand.
"Do you know what happened to this shirt?"
At this point I'm literally struggling to contain my bowels. I had to think quickly.
"I think the cat peed on it. Just give it here I can deal with it."
No such luck.
"Really?..."
And here, dear reddit, is the moment that ruined my life. She grabbed my 1-year old, 500+ cum load stained jizz receptacle and rubbed it against her face. And not just a little bit; she did so with a vigor seemingly unmatched by any olfactor in recent history. Time slowed down as I watched my 50-something mother place the entirety of her innocent, trusting face into my collective pubescent shame. Taking one big wiff, she looked me right in the eye, right into my 16 year old soul, and walked directly out of the room.
TL;DR: My mom stuck her face in my 1 year old dirty, crusty cum rag and we never spoke of it again.
EDIT: RIP my inbox. For the record, those of you who are saying this is fake, I can assure you, it's not. Why would my mom smell what she thought was a cat piss stained shirt? We used to have a cat that would pee on everything, so we had grown accustomed to smelling items to determine if they needed special cleaning attention.
However, we all have been there, like you know 14-19 years old time frame where your dick was a baby making machine and wouldn't go down. From mornings to sleepless nights, all you could think was just fucking fucking.
But I am sure none of us did this:
This wasn't from today, but a story from my youth that I've decided to share. Throwaway account for obvious reasons.
So, I was a horny 15 year old living with my parents. I had a fairly rigorous masturbation schedule (2/3 times per day) and I looked at all sorts of porn. Hentai, teens, creampies, everything on the popular porn sites. In general, I used a regular rotation of dirty laundry to catch as I was finishing, and this system worked pretty well until one fateful day when everything went awry.
I don't know what it was about that day, in particular, but I was hornier than a toad. I felt like I could've gone 10 times. Lo and behold, on that glorious saturday, I reached that mark (which, to this day, I have not bested). By the tenth time, very little was coming out, and I decided I was finished with finishing.
Here's the fuck up: I used the same old white t-shirt to catch every single time. The reason this was a fuck up: I could not, in good consciousness, put this wretched cloth in the laundry basket. Aside from the fact that it might dirty up the other laundry in vile ways, my mother might see it.
And so began me and that white shirt's fateful journey. For an entire year, I, an incredibly sexually depraved 15/16 year old, exclusively finished on old whitey 2/3 times per day. With every passing day, my shame grew, I was less inclined to put the shirt in the laundry, and the shirt became (apologies for the vulgarity) crustier and crustier. Seriously -- after about 6 months the thing was rigid as hell. It was more Frisbee than cloth. Whitey had absorbed mass and hardened, and was fully capable of bludgeoning a grown man to unconsciousness. If bent properly, I have no doubt it could've been used as a bowl. Absolutely. Fucking. Horrible.
Cut to a not-so-horny Saturday. I was playing video games on my xbox. I hear my mom coming down the stairs and into the family room, where I was.
"grosstimes! I have a question."
"Okay, what---"
She was there. Whitey was there. In her hand.
"Do you know what happened to this shirt?"
At this point I'm literally struggling to contain my bowels. I had to think quickly.
"I think the cat peed on it. Just give it here I can deal with it."
No such luck.
"Really?..."
And here, dear reddit, is the moment that ruined my life. She grabbed my 1-year old, 500+ cum load stained jizz receptacle and rubbed it against her face. And not just a little bit; she did so with a vigor seemingly unmatched by any olfactor in recent history. Time slowed down as I watched my 50-something mother place the entirety of her innocent, trusting face into my collective pubescent shame. Taking one big wiff, she looked me right in the eye, right into my 16 year old soul, and walked directly out of the room.
TL;DR: My mom stuck her face in my 1 year old dirty, crusty cum rag and we never spoke of it again.
EDIT: RIP my inbox. For the record, those of you who are saying this is fake, I can assure you, it's not. Why would my mom smell what she thought was a cat piss stained shirt? We used to have a cat that would pee on everything, so we had grown accustomed to smelling items to determine if they needed special cleaning attention.
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