What The Fuck Is Wrong With Me?

Last night, after coming home from a night of ridiculous alcohol consumption, I penned myself a short letter of sorts. Below is that letter and my response.

In the dark shell of an apartment, bare feet resting on a cold, concrete floor, sat in an uncomfortable chair and leaning over a dining room table – that is where and how I do the majority of my creative work.  The living room wall I face has been turned into a giant chalkboard. Written on it are all of my ideas, some penises and a message from a former fuck buddy too sweet to remove. The environment is about as uninspiring as you can imagine and still, I create.

I don’t even know what I am writing right now. And, I am so blasted-out-of-my-mind drunk and doing this so late, that my sober counterpart will almost certainly glance over this in the morning and then close MS Word. “Would you like to save?” “No.” But Sober Me, before you do this, listen to what I have to say – You are a pretty fucking awesome dude. Though you may be a drug user, possible alcoholic and definite sex addict, you still find the time to do some good in this world and I think that is pretty fucking awesome. You need to take better care of yourself though. I feel like an unborn child drunk in the womb from your reckless lifestyle (ewww, I just pictured me as a baby and you as my mother and I am suckling on your nipple for breast milk). On that note Sober Me, I will be tossing us into bed. I can’t wait for you to read this in the morning. Goodnight.


PS Don’t forget to jerk off when you get up, I am too drunk to do it right now. Thanks buddy.  


Dear Drunk Me,

Thank you for your touching letter. I thought, at first, you actually wrote something interesting but then you spiraled into a cavalcade of advice and criticism. I would like to touch on a few things. First, I am a casual drug user. It’s not like I snort lines of meth off of a grimy warehouse floor. I don’t think it’s a problem, yet. Second, I may be operating on the margins of alcoholism, but I am not an alcoholic. The first step to denying a problem is admitting to yourself that you don’t have one. And finally, I am not a sex addict. When I was younger and realized that my cock was not going to give me any peace, I decided to not give it any rest in return – It only seemed fair and I’m sure you will agree.


PS You don’t have to tell me when too jerk off; I have several Google Calendar reminders to do that for me. 




D/s Texts Part 1

Normally I would speak in great detail on the complexities of a topic – though today, I will simply dump content in your lap and hope you get a kick out of it.

Many people know that the majority of relationships I engage in are D/s. It isn’t a necessity for me and its not what I go looking for, but apparently my personality and candor attracts sub-women and what blossoms is what normal people refer too as “crazy shit, man.” Here is a collection of texts that I have saved over the past few months from a couple of sub partners I’ve had. (Note: all parties involved have consented to publishing these images, I’m not a dick) Enjoy 🙂

(It’s nice to know someone is thinking of you)


(Romance is the key to a successful relationship)


(Sometimes, you don’t have to say a word)


(You can always teach an old dog new tricks)


(Sometimes women like to be teased)


(Sometimes your partner can bring out the creative side of you)


(The result – I have to say, I am very impressed with my handwriting) 


(Those who are great at what they do are obsessed with doing it)


(False promises can lead to disaster)


(We recorded the event, just in case she was able to do it. She huffed and she puffed and blew my dick down….but, just couldn’t live up to her promise)




The Chronicles of China – The Wife, The Hookers and The Vomit – Part 1

What if someone told you that you can make $20,000 dollars for taking a two week vacation on the other side of the planet? Yeah, me too.

Years ago, I was approached by an employee of mine who proposed a very enticing offer – go to China, marry a chinese woman so she can can move to the states and get paid $20,000 for your troubles. “Shit” I thought, “How many can I marry at one time?” Excited, I said yes. Though, I have to admit, I was incredibly skeptical. I mean, this is TV or Movie shit. This is a Farley Brothers film plot, but fuck it.

About a week later I got a call from an extremely asian sounding Gentleman we will call…Nick. Nick explained who he was (the supposed organizer of such affairs as fraudulent transcontinental marriages) and asked if I could meet him at a Starbucks to discuss details. It was about this time when I felt my first “oh shit” moment. We met, we talked, we left. Our discussion amounted to an explanation of the process, what was required of me and a suggestion that I take a few days to think about it. To be honest, my clamy palms resting on the steering wheel of my car in the parking lot of Starbucks quickly dried after a few minutes speaking to Nick – he was so nice and disarming. And, he had a great pitch: Memorize everything we tell you, fly to China, get married and receive $20,000 cash when I get back. Im. In. I called him that very night and told him that it was on.

The whole process was incredibly organized – I received a fact sheet about my future wife that included EVERYTHING about her that I was to memorize, a cell phone and email address to communicate with her (so that we could have printable documentation detailing the “love” we felt for one another) and stacks of forms to fill out. It was like a visit to the tag agency or the DMV, only less black people.

Forms were filled out, calls and emails were made and it was time. Months after this process began I was beckoned to Starbucks again. I met with Nick and the friend that referred me to him. I was handed a plane ticket to Fuhzou, China. It was happening. I was to travel there accompanied by Nick. He was my handler. We left from Miami to Chicago, then from Chicago to Beijing and then from Beijing to Fuhzou. The most grueling part of this journey to China was the flight from Beijing to Fuhzou because the Air China planes are made for tiny asian people so I had to remain contorted in such a way as to fit in the seat I was assigned.

I arrived in Fuhzou after 28 hours of travel. Nick and I were met by two stereotypical asian men in black suits, obviously associated with their local mafia (cue my second “oh shit” moment). We were escorted to a limo and brought to a hotel in the heart of the city. It was my first opportunity for some real sleep in over a day so I took advantage of it. I slept in that bed for almost 16 hours.

When I awoke from my slumber, one of the asian mafia guys was also in the bed (we weren’t cuddling or anything) in just his underwear – apparently that is a thing over there. I wasn’t too disturbed; I have been found in more compromising positions before. I was urged to get dressed quickly in a suit they had custom tailored for me. It was explained to me that we will be going to the wedding ceremony/party so that pictures of the event can be taken and presented if asked. My heart was pounding. I knew so much about this woman, emailed her and called her every day and here I was about to marry her and we have never seen each other face to face. “We go now” exclaimed my bedmate. It was on…we were off.

Fienbaumbergsteins 2013 Fellatio World Cup

The conversations I have with others over Google Hang-outs are definitely commercial-worthy but most subscriber services that would be able to air one don’t have commercials. Oh well.

Recently, I was engaged in a video chat with a friend back in the states about girlfriends-past and who sucked dick the best (we were effortlessly able to find common ground seeing as he and I shared a lot of the same sexual partners). However, race – in relation to skill level, quickly overran the subject matter.

Varying opinions on this topic exist and variables such as physical stature (for example, fat chicks) were not taken into consideration in the rankings. The standings below are simply our judgement on experience as it pertains to ethnicity.


Now…without further adieu – THE FIENBAUMBERGSTEIN 2013 FELLATIO WORLD CUP!


#7 Africanus Americanus

ratchett hoes


Surprising, yes. This vivacious creature starts our list off at the bottom. With naturally plump lips and large mouths, one would think they would creep a little closer to the top – nope. I’m certain their position at #7 has largely to do with technique rather than their anatomy. As far as their technique is concerned, everything they do is a bit much. The over exaggerated slurping sounds, the violent twisting movements of their head and a personal grievance of mine – not swallowing, all leads to the eventual “I think I’m just gonna fuck you now” moment poor performance always leads too. One of the biggest problems, though, is the unnecessary over-lubrication. They try and get your dick wetter than a slide at a water park. This is counter productive. Most cocks, unless wired differently, require a certain degree of friction to stimulate and maintain arousal. Excessive salivating and spitting removes some of this friction and you are left with the feeling of face fucking a glass of water.


#6 Middle Eastern



As the Quran says – “Only those who are patient shall receive their reward in full, without reckoning.”  Reward – meaning a mouth full of my homemade pleasure-sauce – is something these women will never get from me. They are sooooo slow and pay way to much attention to the action. Their eyes are always focused on the dick and the meticulous movements and position of their hands suggests that they are reading from some kind of instruction manual written on the base of your cock. My dick isn’t a newborn that needs to be gently rocked to sleep; slap it, chew on it…DO SOMETHING! Anyway props to you ladies, regardless, for finishing ahead of the blacks. But seriously, put your holy book in a drawer and pull up a porn site or two so you can enter into the 21st century of cock-sucking.


#5 Asians 



Ahh, yes – a picture both relevant and SFW. Now, my experience with Asian women extends as far as my visit to China a while back. This doesn’t really make me an expert. Though, with a sample size of more than one Asian woman filed away and plenty of experiences to compare them too, I shall do so in the most objective manner possible. First of all, their teeth. They are not straight at all; most of them anyway. And, before you assume that this is a problem, divorce yourself from that assumption. I love imperfect teeth. Fuck straight smiles. I don’t know why, its just something that I enjoy in a woman. And, it pains me to see them so far away from the top spot because of that. Their soft, slim physique is fantastic for the hands on experience while being the recipient of fellatio, but their petite frames and build leave a lot to be desired. They have the gag reflex and mouth clearance of a fresh water trout (no, I have not face fucked any of those) – which is great for their male counterparts, but not useful for non-asian men. What that leads to is an unacceptable number of instances of stoppage. Taking a constant break for air when my nuts aren’t even resting on your chin yet, is no way to make the dick happy. And, their houses smell weird.


#4 Caucasian 

Closeup portrait of a happy young woman smiling isolated on white background


There they are – sat right in the middle. Average. Simple. Like a cheese pizza. There really isn’t anything bad about a white girl blowjob, except for the fact that its painfully vanilla. Don’t get me wrong, some white girls give great head, but there are just as many that don’t and this is based on an average of overall experience. Despite the fact that a white woman is responsible for one of only two orgasm-from-head experiences that I have had, I have to chalk it up to the fact that she was a turbo slut with years of practice involving hands-(and mouth)on experience. Overall, the best case scenario with a white woman sucking your dick is that of the role of a fluffer; the porn industries answer to keeping men erect off camera so the female lead can give their tender mouth much needed rest.

#3 Latina – Cuban



Yes, I could have found a better picture representing the beauty of Cuban women, but holy shit…that’s awesome. I am convinced that all Cuban women, inherently, are handed down through their genes the ability to consistently suck good dick. As a fan of the Latin ethnicity in general as it pertains to sex overall, of the many oral encounters I have had with Cuban women, I have never had a bad or average experience with fellatio. But, I have never had a knock-your-socks-off moment either. For me, despite the incredible consistency in skill level you could hope to expect, my pleasure in getting head from a Cuban chick is in the chance to play with their fat bubble-butts during the session. Soft, meaty and bouncy, it provides hours of amusement.

#2 Euro-Latin – Spain



So exciting. The Top Two! So, my last two girlfriends or long-term sexual partners or whatever the fuck you want to call them were Spain(ish) – not quite sure what they are called. These women embody the trifecta of great head – skill, submission and sexuality. Their skill is toe-curling, they let you treat their body like some kind of fuck toy and their physical appearance oozes sexuality. They suck dick like you have front row seats to their performance. Their seductive eye contact throughout makes for the perfect combination of mental and physical stimulation. Bravo, ladies.

#1 Latina – Puerto Rican



Congratulations, ladies. Wear this title proud. To be honest I’ve found that Puerto Rican women offer an almost identical experience to Cuban women – though with a slight increase in technical skill. So, why are they number one? Well, its simple. Sucking dick, for a lot of women, is somewhat of a chore. Its the prerequisite to the endgame – sex. It is also an “I do for you, you do for me” situation that, at best, they just accept as a payment for reciprocation. This is were Puerto Rican women differ. It’s the same with everyone of them I have been with. They have a deep, burning desire to always suck cock. Driving, movie theater, gas station fill ups, late night romantic walks, dinner at Applebees, etc. There exists a sort of gravitational pull between their mouth and my dick. Now, I should be honest and mention something that my friend tipped me off too that may appear to lead to bias – my first sexual encounter ever was a puerto rican girl giving me head at a sneak peek premier of Apollo 13 (starring Tom Hanks) when I was a teenager. Let me set the record straight. She was equally inexperienced as I and for the most part, it was a mediocre experience. So, it has not influenced my judging at all. There you have it ladies, the top spot. It just goes to show – when you work hard at something, all of your dreams can come true.

Honorable Mentions – 


A Handful Of Firsts And A Whole Lot Of Regret

I attended a friend’s birthday party at a sports bar near the University. He rented out the entire top floor so that we all could watch the Kentucky v Wake Forest game minus the obnoxious screaming of the local student body. It was a fucking blast – 30 or so people drunk, but in good spirits, watching an awesome game and celebrating our buddies birthday. About half way through the game the birthday boy introduces me to his fiancés best friend – she was pretty…but not quite my type. It was the hair – short hair is a huge turn-off for me. I’m not talking about hanging below the ears short. I mean it was REALLY short. But, she held good conversation so we spent the rest of the game together bullshiting about this and that at first and then escalating quickly into flirtatious dialogue. When the game ended, every one began to cheer like crazy. In the midst of the celebratory roar of our group, Kimberly – I’ll call her – grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me to the bathroom. It was one of those bathrooms that only allow one person at a time. She locked the door behind us and began searching in the cabinet under the sink for something. “This is weird” I thought to myself. “Yes!” she yelled. She pulled from behind the toilet paper stock a sandwich sized Ziploc bag half-filled with coke. Apparently it was the communal cocaine baggy that everyone had been sharing over the course of the evening. Not only was that the first time I had seen more than just a line of coke, but I also never tried it before – something about its reputation was just very off-putting, but at the same time, alluring. I guess my apprehension with its use is due to the way it is portrayed in the media. It’s always accompanied by the visual of some strung out, manic person that can’t fight the compulsion to clean their entire apartment at 3 o’clock in the morning. But witnessing its casual use by people I know dulled that apprehension over time and I became less afraid of it. Kimberly shoveled some out of the bag with her debit card and began crushing it and forming lines on the counter. “Four lines – two for you and two for me” she said. I rarely freeze, but did. I regained control over my brain and explained that I never did it before and not quite sure if I wanted to try it. She smirked, turned around and killed every line. She pinched the top of her nose and closed her eyes – “Fuck!” she yelled. She asked again if I wanted to try it and I politely refused. “Come on, everybody’s doing it” she said sarcastically with a comical head bobble. She grabbed her car keys, dipped them into the bag and pulled out a bump of coke. She tilted her head to the side and put it on her neck – “how about now?” she asked. (Fuck how did she know I was a neck guy…well, choking them, but still a neck guy). I thought to myself “Fuck it.” I leaned in and did the bump. I felt her hand caress the back of my head  – oh shit, it was on. *BOOM BOOM BOOM*; someone was knocking on the door. Panic set in, not a result of the coke, but the psychological effect it has in instituting every drugs most annoying side effect – Paranoia. This was it; an entire lifetime spent avoiding drugs and the one time I try it the cops are going to barge in and arrest me. Kimberly told the encroacher to hold on. “It’s me” we heard from the other side. She opened the door and let in my friends’ fiancé – her best friend.  Kimberly locked the door, grabbed another bump with her keys and laid it on the top of one of her tits. Fuck it. I did it again. She bent down as I was coming back up and caught my lip with her teeth. We began to kiss. Meanwhile, her friend is sat on the toilet peeing and organizing a few lines of her own atop a planner she pulled out of her purse. There was something so sleezily beautiful about the sound of a woman with her pants down snorting coke while you are making out with another chick. It was definitely one of those moments you realize in retrospect that you only ever seen in movies or tv. I thought to myself, all in all, this is a good night. But, it wasn’t over. Kimberly began rubbing my dick through my jeans. She unzipped me and pulled my dick out and started giving me an ole-fashioned. Now, this was cool, but I’m not a big fan of the handy unless accompanied by the mouth – they are a lovely double act. Handy’s are just too dry to enjoy and turn painfully annoying very quickly. I waited and waited and waited for her to start sucking my dick, but nothing. “Suck my cock” I asserted. “No” she replied. (Sigh) I looked back at her friend and she is just staring at us. Not staring like biting the bottom lip and playing with herself kind of stare. It was more like a depressed what-the-fuck-am-I-doing-with-my-life kind of gaze. I skillfully refocused my attention to Kimberly. “I want you to suck my cock” I said. “I know” she replied. UGH! What the fuck, man? I was ready to just politely put a button on the situation and exit the bathroom when her friend got a hold of my pocket and pulled me toward her. Without hesitation and with ease she began blowing me. “No, no. Stop this, stop this right now” I thought to myself. Still making out with one and getting my dick sucked by the other, my body and mind waged war against one another in an epic battle of morals. But, I didn’t stop. The head was astonishing. Not because of the two-woman thing – my girlfriend, at the time, and I were swingers and that kind of event was as regular as one could expect from that lifestyle. No, it was because she was and still is one of only two women to ever make me cum from head alone (a feat worthy of praise). She finished me off, we all did a couple more lines and exited the bathroom discreetly like nothing ever happened.

 It was an awesome though regretful experience. Awesome in that I experienced a few firsts that night – first time (surprisingly) kissing and participating in a sex act with a non-hispanic woman and the first night I did coke. And, regretful for obvious reasons. I haven’t spoken to my friend in years – I moved out of the area and just lost touch. I assume he doesn’t know anything as I frequently stopped in on his facebook page and usually saw pictures of them still together. Everyone that is in a relationship suffers from desire to be with another person when they are lent the opportunity. Though, it takes a special kind of asshole to act on it – (sigh) my poor friend. Though, ignorance is bliss. If I were in his situation I don’t think I would want to know if I was cheated on. I especially don’t think I would want to know if I was gifted a small amount of my friends semen deposited by a kiss from my fiancé – just saying.

I Am Your Property Now

It has been a little over a month since I have even spoken the other participant in my most recent attempt at a relationship. I say attempt because it never seems to make it out of the trial period. This of course is by no means the other persons fault – I am completely to blame. For some reason, that physiological response that’s triggered by the onset of an intimate moment just disappears from me after a while. Over time, I could still be completely attracted both mentally and physically to someone, but when it comes time to fuck, my body assumes the role of a fat, unenthused King sat in his throne gazing off in the distance, unimpressed by the performer in front of him – “This bores me…Be gone with her!” says my dick.

Now, if I were your normal face to face, novelty ass-slap sexual partner, it would be no big deal. I’m not even that attractive but wit and intelligence alone can seduce the right woman into a casual fling. The problem rests with my sexual desires/wants/needs.

When you subscribe to the sexual category I belong to, it is virtually impossible to engage women without making it very clear, very early into the relationship, with what you are “in to.” It takes time, patience and a little luck to stumble upon these gems.

So, consider my surprise when I got a text message from the best friend of the aforementioned participant. She copied my number out of her friends phone (when she wasn’t looking, she says). She hesitated to reach out to me at first, but a month later I received this message:

“Hey this is REDACTED, REDACTED best friend.”

My first thought was “Holy Fuck. Now she is trying to use her friend to talk some sense into me (I broke it off, obviously).” Still, I responded anyway and said “Hi.” She went on to tell me that my former partner would explain, in great detail, our sexual encounters to her; even showing her the cuts and bruises on her ass from the belt. She went on to explain that she wants nothing more than the same kind of encounter – no relationship. I was hesitant. And, I was also in disbelief really. I mean, (I’m not about to boast, this is just a crucial element of the story) one of the few things I am confident with in my life is fucking. I spent 4 years married to a bisexual nympho with whom I shared female partners with. She taught me everything a man should know about pleasing a woman. But, this is the first time, in my life, that my performance has earned me a referral via a word of mouth reference. It certainly was an ego boost. Not that I need one, but when you have to try so hard and sometimes wait so long to come across women like this you have to jump on it, literally and figuratively.

She told me that she didn’t want her friend to find out (sigh, that made me feel like an asshole just agreeing). She began to explain what she was looking to do, something that no other partner would entertain – simulated rape, anally. Now, I have done the whole RRP (rape-role-play) before, nothing new. But, I have never encountered a woman that wanted to kick it up a notch with anal. From my experience, anal is something that you need to graduate in levels for the other partner to enjoy. The tempo picks up eventually, but only after some TLC. Still, I was down – new experience for me, so fuck it. We arranged the time and location; 10pm, my place. This is how the event played out (ill try and keep it rated R):

She arrived in the parking lot a little after 10pm and sent me a text: “Im here.” I exited my apartment and crept up from behind her car to her door. I quickly opened it; she jumped (I can tell I genuinely scared her). I grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her out of the car. I slammed her up against the rear car door, slapped her across the face and then put my hand over her mouth. She began to tear up. I told her to shut the fuck up, not to make a fucking sound. I turned her around and wrapped my arm around her neck, placing her in a choke-hold. My other hand groped her body. “You want this, don’t you? You fucking slut.” She began to cry. I dragged her backwards, still in the choke-hold, into my apartment and slammed the door shut. I pressed her up against the wall in my foyer. There was a pink and blue silk neck tie on the floor; it was a lovely compliment to her shirt of the same color – I shoved it in her mouth. Her shirt and bra, I literally ripped off. She began to fight me off – I slapped her across the face again. I pushed her to the floor and dragged her into the bedroom by her feet. I removed her pants, and used her thong to bind her hands behind her back. She kept spitting the tie out so I tied it as a gag around her head and between her mouth. Tears were falling from her face, quick panicked breaths escaped her mouth. I grabbed my trusty leather belt, looped it in hand and began to go to work on her ass. I have to say; it was the most damage I have ever done to the ass cheek. Dark red belt mark shaped welts rose from the surface of her skin. It was so raw that you could feel the heat coming off of the skin when hovering your hand over it. I flipped her on her back and hung her head over the side of the bed. “Lets see how loud you can scream with my dick down your throat, you little bitch.” I began fucking her mouth. Her head would quickly whip from side to side, she was trying to take a breath, that is when I would shove it in deeper. I could feel the air shooting out of her nose on my nuts. Her legs began to flail…that’s my queue. I had to pull out before she threw up. Success. I flipped her back onto her stomach, head facing the wall. I covered my dick in Wet Platinum (lube, the best lube) and shoved it into her ass. A sound escaped her mouth I never heard before. It is the sound I would imagine someone would make if they got shot in the stomach. It actually startled me enough for me to stop for a second. But, she returned to her normal wiggling, struggling routine so I proceeded. With every stroke I would hear the muffled sounds of her begging me to stop. She would bang her forehead against the wall, I assume to distract herself from the pain. It was time…I flipped her over, pulled her face to my dick and sprayed a glorious liquid fireworks display all over her mouth, nose, eyes and hair. I gave her one more hardy slap across the face. I removed the gag from her mouth and the thong binding her hands. I took her by the hand into my bathroom. I set her down on the floor of the tub and turned the shower on. She sat there, teary eyed and looking up at me. Her lips were quivering, post-cry stuttered breaths. “Wash the whore off of your body and get the fuck out” I said. It was 11:30ish PM. She dried off, put her tattered shirt on and left.

About 3am, I got a text message from her asking me if she can come over. I told her that I am sleeping and I’m too tired for a round two. She told me that she just wanted to come over for a few mins. Confusion set in. That was another first for me. Then I began to worry. My mind began to make sense of this request. “Holy, shit!” I said aloud. I think she did this so she could say that I raped her and that would be the ultimate revenge in the name of her friend. I was very panicky. Before she came over, I scrambled to my phone so I could make sure I have the text messages proving that it was entirely consensual. She knocked. The peep hole revealed only her, freshened up – new shirt too. I let her in. She put both hands on my face and kissed me. She then dropped to her knees and hugged my waist. “No one has ever fucked me like that, ever. No one. I am your property now.” she said. I am your property now – a phrase her friend used on her sub/dom themed blog when describing our first sexual experience; awkward!

It has been a week since this happened and I had to measure the pros and cons of inviting her over for another session. The cons won. She continues to text me every day and, like the asshole I am, I don’t message her back. I think its better this way. No good can come from casual, routine anal rape. I wish I had that NBC “The More You Know” jingle to play after that.