December 16th, 2002


Innocence Lost

I passed out drunk at approximately 6:30pm tonight. I woke up approximately two hours later completely hung over and more than a little horny. In my semi-lucid state, it suddenly occurred to me that, due to my current obsession with Live Journal, I have not downloaded porn in ages! My drunken self decided that this was unacceptable and went into action immediately to right this horrible wrong.

I don't mean to brag, but before LJ came into my heart, I had a love obsession with porn. It was hot and steamy and frequently orgasmic--I rarely had to fake it. But lately I've gone soft (har) on porn, which pains me and my penis deeply, so I decided to re-visit some of my favorite spank sites to see what I've been missing.

Here's a very brief list of some of the new stuff that was awaiting me:

  • Innocent looking teen produces the biggest female ejac ever seen

  • Mechanic anally fists some horny white trash chick

  • Mariah gets her face slapped with a nice big cock

  • Two sluts get double ass fucked and facialled

Good stuff by anyone's standards, but sadly, it just wasn't doing anything for me. The truth is, two people going at it missionary-style used to be more than enough to get me started on a delightful jerk-off session, but over the years I've slowly become desensitized to the standard, run-of-the-mill smut. I've increasingly sought out more hardcore stuff, like that mentioned above, to get my jollies. And now, watching "Mariah get her face slapped with a nice big cock" arouses nothing more than a giant unfulfilled sigh from my forlorn penis. 'Tis a truly sad day indeed.

I was about to cry at this recent turn of events, when a drunken wave of nausea nostalgia came over me. I remembered, with fondness, my first masturbatory aid. The Sears Christmas Catalogue. Yes, my friends, the Sears Catalogue. You see, hidden between it's 600+ pages of toys, clothes, and other non-descript items was a pre-teenage boy's treasure trove of spank material. The index referred to this treasure trove as "Women's Intimate Apparel" - thirty or so pages of nightgowns, bras, and panties. There was always at least one "sheer" bra that provided me with a peak into a world I could scarcely imagine, let alone comprehend. But it didn't matter, my penis understood what my mind could not and soon a rigorous bout of self-love would commence. If anyone walked in on me, I'd just flip to the toys and say, "I think I'd like this new Lego set for Christmas."

It was a magical time.

I shut off my computer and searched my apartment thoroughly for a Victoria's Secret Catalogue in a desperate attempt to rekindle this lost masturbatory magic. I eventually found one and began flipping though it in earnest. There were beautiful women inside wearing beautiful things, but as I continued to flip through, my initial excitement at discovering that almost everything in Victoria's catalogue was "sheer" turned into anger as it became painfully obvious that Victoria's definition of "sheer" was not the same as mine. In my book, "sheer" means "see through" - as in, "I could totally see that chick's nips on account of her sheer bra!" Where are the nipples, Victoria? Where are they?! But I digress.

I'm not sure what I'm more embarrassed to admit. The fact that I've become a hideous sexual pervert, or the fact that I long for a massive, Sears-catalogue-induced boner.

Actually, I'm most embarrassed to admit that I'm not embarrassed at all.

P.S. I am really out of my head right now. And horny. And I'll probably delete this post at a later date. Sorry you had to read it.

P.P.S. If anyone's got this years Sears Catalogue, could you kindly send it my way? Thanks much.