sunday monster snipets 2-13

in my....PANTS!

Content warning: this post refers to genitalia. and sex. Some words may offend some of you. I am not very politcally correct. If you are feeling very soft and gentle today you may want to skip this post.....

this may be more your speed....

or mebbe this...

prolly not this...




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TRENDING NOO!!!!!!!TRENDING NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
1.Chelsea Clinton (hubby going crazy)

2.Elizabeth Taylor (died)
3.Kelsey Grammer (daughter got married, who really cares?)
4.Zooey Deschanel (my latest stalker…)
5.Valentine flowers (just say no!!!)
6.Carrie Underwood (comes outta the closet)
7.Chile earthquake (shaking some stuff up)
8.Whaling shipwreck (Moby wins this round!)
9.Arnold Schwarzenegger (he’ll be back)
10.Asthma (sucks and blows)

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welcome new BIA 
bushmanjeffery at a simple life

dudemeister41 at well this doesn't suck

(i guess) I am supposed to write a post about a topic with the title monster in my pants. I find this  ironically funny because I recently had a cancerous tumor removed in the pantal region and have only worn actual pants like 5 times since the surgery. And beleive me, putting on pants does remind me of the monster down there.

But then again so does a prostate exam.

But on to the post.

The monster in my pants...sss...

When I was a young child, I rarely wore pants. I was often found traversing the neighborhood sans diaper and usually got busted playing with the hose. No perverts, not my hose, a garden hose. Jeebus, I was only like two. I didn’t learn how to play with that hose until much later.

Like when I was three.

Mebbe four.

Being a guy, as I have grown, I have noticed the world revolved around all kinds of war related stuff (and you can read about it in The Guy Book) and fighting the evil in the world. Monsters were a part of that evil. The monsters were not all real.  Some were imagined and some were a part of us. We have been accused of thinking with our small head. 

OH THAT monster...

Yes virgin..ia there is a monster in my pants.

I am not going to lie. I have had a couple virgins...but that is another story...nah...mebbe not...however! The monster in my pants made me say “I love you” to several girls that I really did not love.  I used to keep a cubic zurconia ring in my glove compartment of my truck and the line was always ready,

"Yeah, baby, if I didn't really didn't love you, would I give you this?" (Presents ring...)

All for the sake of letting the monster out. The monster in my pants knew no satiation, no release, no closure, until he got what he wanted.  Until he soaked up the sweet essence of sexy. The warm wetness of the center of her. Until we dipped the wick. And the penultimate release.

And you all know what that was. and is.

Orrrrrrrgasm! (singsong voice)

Having a daughter is peotic justice. It is karmic retaliation. It is a boon, but it is my bane!

There is really nothing else in the world that compares to the feeling of intercourse. The furbisquit and fuckpole boogie. horizontal bop. bumping uglies. doing the nasty. making fish tacos. boinking. boffing. beach blanket bingo. nude napping. x rated petting. fucking. doing it. or fucking. (I know i repeated myself...)

 (or as my evil twin would say fuck! fuckity fuck fuck! if you like the word fuck, he is your guy!) And my monster knew that. He did not care that I had to lie. He did not care what I had to do to get him where he wanted to be. He controlled my thoughts, dreams, vocalizations, and life from the time I had my first woody until…

Fuck.

Right.About.Now.

and then some...

You See, people, the urge to procreate is strong. And the urge to spread the seed is also. Every dog needs a place to bury his bone...My monster also knew that and took advantage of the situation. I am fortunate that I do not (that I know of) have any biological offspring. (and so are all you all) But the monster in my pants did not care. not.at.all.

Women have a monster in their pants as well.

But I love that monster. Everyone knows I am just a lesbo trapped in a man's body...

The monster and me are inseparable. Partially because we did not marry this girl  (that sad sack licker to her right?  john wayne bobbit...) i still shudder every time either name is mentioned. eeewww...

The monster and I also dodged the bullet of venereal disease and were unprotected before the actual knowledge of AIDS, but were also unscathed by this particular scourge of our promiscuosity.

Yeah, promiscuosity.

What about it?

Overall, I am fondly and completely attached to the monster in my pants. I do so love him. As we have matured, we have come to terms with the past. I still need to keep him in my pants. He still has a rambunctious side. However, he is much more easily distracted nowadays.

While we did enjoy the 12 and a half minutes we used to religiously spend on foreplay, and the time we were in the wet zone, we have adapted to our age. We are much more slow to arouse, but can last longer. Well, as long as there is no game on.

Or it is not like hella late, or the kids don’t bust in, the dog doesn’t bark, or we are not distracted by work. And, thankfully the monster and I do not yet need to use Viagra. We still like to roll over and take a quick nap after the sex act. But mostly, we no longer need to lie to women to get a piece of ass.

We now lie to them just for the fun of it.

Damn that monster anyway!

Just aMONSTER Day in (a) paraPANTS