in mourning

I am mourning my sex life. Today I woke up and dressed in black, Carmina Burana is playing at full volume. I have been flopping and sighing deeply. What’s ironic is the murderer of my sex life is my website. The expression of my sexuality is killing my sex life. I have been too busy shooting to get laid, which is working out great for the content because all of my frustration is coming out on camera. I’ve been doing a lot of squirting, some really sexy fetish photos.

My lack of getting any has taken a humbling almost comedic turn; I have taken to brazen crotch staring. I don’t even realize I’m doing it until I get the “Ryan, my eyes are up here” or the really awkward, “Are you staring at my crotch?” The answer is yes. Because instead of listening to you, I am looking at crotch, judging size and shape, factoring in shower/grower variables and becoming very curious about texture and flavor. I had to be forbidden from sleeping with my lawyer, and anyone else I work with by my business partner/roommate. One of said roommates friend made the mistake of falling asleep in my bed and I was forced to rape him. I really couldn’t help myself, when I realized I wasn’t sleeping alone I pressed my ass against this poor young man, pressed his hands on my tits. Not getting the response I wanted I was forced to be aggressive, I kissed him, slid down and took his thick beautiful cock in my mouth. I tongued, sucked and brought him to the brink and forced him to fuck me, I know it was a pity fuck, and at this point, I’ll take what I can get. Keep an eye out for the site, it will be so hot when it launches, I am loving the process of making it.