Bird fight

I don’t want to have sex anymore! I really don’t, but it just keeps fucking happening.

I thought erotic massages would be a good way to release my sexual tension, so I went to this guy on the beach and let him rim and blow and rub me. By the end, before I had a chance to reflect on my status as newly reclaimed virgin, he was fucking me.

Afterwards, on the same day nonetheless, I met up with this really young guy (he told me that the day before had been his 18th birthday) and he tried to fuck me as well. I felt his cock stab its way a quarter inch or so into my ass, then I realized that he was wearing no condom and that I didn’t want to get ass fucked. I pulled away. The next hour consisted of him stabbing his cock blindly around my ass and back. Sometimes it would push against the right spot, but most of the time it was far away from the gold. I never let him put it in, though.

You may be asking yourself – Why did I end up naked in the bed of a good looking boy that I did not want to fuck? I don’t know. I guess I lack boundary’s.

Both these incidents occurred this past Thursday. They were reminders that I need to actively work to not be whore.

The next day, I was walking to school when these two huge tropical birds started fighting in front of me. They weren’t just colorful birds, they were huge peacock sized birds that emerged seemingly out of thin air. I tried to attach some meaning to the event.

“Of course,” I said to myself, “the birds represent the internal battle between good and evil that exists within me. Their emergence shows how sudden and unexpectedly conflict can arise.”

“No no no” I thought seconds later, “these two magnificent animals indicate that even beauty has a destructive side.”

I had a few more theories before concluding that birds just like to fight sometimes.