Stupid Horny

I suppose that I should preface this post by saying that there is absolutely nothing wrong with being horny. It’s my natural state in fact. Honestly, I find it exceedingly odd that I’m writing a post where I have to explicitly state that I’m not condescending toward it. Really! Horny is just fine! 

In this post I’m discussing a specific kind of horny. A brand that’s hard to grapple with, and one that seems to find me each year as the days get longer and I contemplate summer.

Have you ever been hungry and just couldn’t find the food that would really hit the spot? You just keep eating different things until you’re full. Then, you realize you’re still 110% unsatisfied. Maybe you’ve got an itch in that place right in that spot on your back that you can’t reach. Even after you rub against a door frame or something it just comes back.

What about those times where some fragment of a memory flashes through your brain? Try as hard as you might, you still can’t recall the whole thing, or even why it occurred to you in the first place.

Somewhere between all of those feelings is what it feels like for me to be “stupid horny”. I suppose that stupid horny is probably the human equivalent of an animal in heat. Certainly, it seems like the right time of year to be experiencing that. I always seem to find myself fantasizing about creampies and breeding kinks this time of year. Mrs. Ten and I can have sex over and over. I can masturbate until my dick is raw and sore. It doesn’t matter. I still can’t get enough.

It doesn’t matter how I orgasm, whether it’s from prostate play, edging, a quick wank, or any variation in between. No matter how much I come, I can’t quite relieve the itch. Nothing really hits the spot. If I’m lucky, I can shake that horny distraction for about ten minutes. Then my fingers want to creep toward that porn link. I’ll find myself putting in the earbuds to listen to some incredible audio porn. I’ll flip through sex blogs obsessively. I’ll write (but not finish) at least five erotic stories.  Then, one day, I’ll wake up completely sated and my poor, calloused cock will get a week’s respite before it all starts again.

Normally, my mind is a quiet place. I can shut the door on all the chaos that wants to blow in from the outside world and just…be. This invader though comes from the inside. There is no way to shut him out. As they say, “wherever you go, there you are”. All of the neat, tidy control that I usually manifest is shaken by him. 

Normally, I can summon my desire like an eager waiter. I can tell it what I want and when. Then, watch it all unfold with a naughty grin. When stupid horny season arrives I can still function. I can go about my day just fine, but I’d be lying if I said every third image that flashes before my mind’s eye isn’t sexual. It’s distracting, incredibly annoying really.

When I plumb the depths of that stupid horny feeling I find that it goes pretty deep. There definitely seems to be some simple biology involved. Science might agree with me on this point. Though I have to say, I don’t often feel this way during the winter. 

Mostly though, I think this feeling is borne of boredom. It shivers with impatience and perseverates in the vacuum of nothing to do. 

Mud season is upon us. I want to hike, fish, camp, and bike, but the weather isn’t conducive. In the summer I can have all of those things, relish in the outdoors. In the fall, I can hunt and hike. I can enjoy the sudden disappearance of the mosquitos. In the winter there are a ton of sports to engage in. Even when there’s a blizzard I can curl up in front of the fire with a book or put a puzzle together to keep myself distracted.

I have no use for spring though. The weather is awful and there is little enough to do. So, when the rain patters on the window and it’s too warm to curl up in front of the fire with that book all I want to do is fuck. My thoughts turn to burying a load inside of you and they just stay there. All of my energy gets bound up in it and my mind fixates. Deep, hard, thrusts and massive explosions of cum are all that cross my mind every time that I get stupid horny.

Perhaps, for this post, in yet another attempt to scratch that itch, I’ll write a vignette. Maybe, if I can ejaculate the scene out onto the page it’ll vanish for a while. Maybe I can have a little peace and quiet. Here is an example of the fantasies that cross my mind when I get stupid horny…

She’s laying there on the bed, blindfolded, and achingly wet. I can smell her sex, and that of the others permeating through the air. For now though, my focus is only on her. Her arms are restrained, tied taught and fast to the bedposts. Her nipples are hard. Her mouth is open, gasping with need. My cock hardens as I watch her squirm. She rubs her legs together, and twists from side to side. She’s here for cock. She needs my cum. I reach down and touch her knee. Her legs spread, instantly, and she humps the air, moaning with desperate want. I do not make her wait.

I relish the feeling of heat as my head nudges against her opening, but she’s impatient and pushes me inside. I hold back just a little. I do so enjoy that first thrust. The feeling of your wetness spreading over me is absolutely sublime. She slows, arches against me as I slide in. Ever, so, slowly. Then, I feel my balls crush against you and my head nudge your cervix. I’m buried all the way to the hilt. You cry out and hump against me, begging me to thrust, but I wait, just a little longer to savor you. Then, I lean in, crush my body against your breasts and feel your hot breath against my ear as I thrust. Hard. Punctuated. Each time I bury my dick inside you, you whimper. I thrust harder in response. 

Your voice quavers, gets tight. “Oh fuck yes! Please! Please fuck me!” “Mmm… Fuck! Harder!” “Fuck yes!” A steady stream of plaintive, crooning need, pours from your lips. Then, your pussy quivers around my cock as you come. You scream “I’m coming! Oh fuck yes!”

I keep riding your writhing body. You scream and moan. You come over and over again, but my pace never changes. I just keep thrusting. Into you. Against you.Over. And over. Again. Until you cry out, “Ohhhh fuck! Yes! Come for me!” 

Then, I do. I pour a thick, heavy load deep inside of you and grit my teeth as wave after wave or orgasm crashes through me. Then, I get up, turn around. I feel your juices cooling on my softening cock, and find another bed, another woman desperate with need. I go to work, again, and again, each time filling another full of my hot, thick spunk.

In this fantasy I’m not myself. Fuck I look like a fucking god. Tall, and well-muscled with long dark hair. I never see my own face, but while I’m fucking you I can watch the scene from behind. I can see my muscles twist and pull. I can see my cheeks squeeze as I thrust, over, and over, hard, and methodically inside of you.

Then, I turn, and she’s there, but she’s not squirming or blindfolded like the others. Her red hair spills across her soft, alabaster shoulders as she looks up at me haughtily with bright blue eyes. Her legs are spread wide and her thighs are slick with the dew of her desire. She’s put herself on display. It’s almost like she’s daring me to fuck her.

So I do, same as before. Hard, deep thrusts as her breathing quickens and her bonds dissolve. I feel her nails digging into my back. Then, she flips me over, pins me down as she fucks me, rubbing her clit as she grinds hard against my body. All the while she looks deep into my eyes and I suddenly realize where I’m at and just who she is. 

I’ve been in this scene before, sort of, except this time it’s just her, and I. She leans in, stares me down. Her lips begin to part and I can’t tell whether she’s sucking my soul through my eyes or my cock as she whispers…”come for me”…

Damn. I’m still fucking horny!