Period Sex

On average a girl will spend one quarter of her life between the ages of 10 and 55 on her period, so for the majority of men having ‘period sex’ is inevitable. A lot of women will feel that men are disgusted by the idea of it and will therefor use it as an excuse for not having sex. For some men, yes, it is a complete turn off, but for the rest of us the power of the pussy is a much greater force than the thought of getting a little bit of blood on your dick.

It was a just another summer’s evening in August 2010; the sky was blue, the drinks had began to flow and small town of Lagos, Portugal was preparing for another night of debauchery. By 10pm I had managed to drink my usual half bottle of vodka before turning up to work as a promoter for a small, yet busy bar, which was about a five-minute walk from the town centre.

On the way to work David had reminded me that, since I had broken a string on his guitar and failed to have it repaired, he was devising a plan to get revenge. It sounded like a fairly petty reason for needing any kind revenge, but when you drink every day for three months being unreasonable is the norm and irrational thought becomes somewhat of a regular occurrence.

 “So you’re going to get me back because I didn’t get the string fixed on the guitar?”

“I’ve given you a whole day to get it repaired, I love that guitar and I’m not prepared to let you get away with breaking it.” David snarled as he emptied the last drops of his vodka lemonade into his mouth.

“So how are you going to get me back?”

“You’ll see.” He replied with a sly grin on his face.

David had made many promises for revenge in the past and a lot of the time he never followed through with anything overly effective, but I felt as though this time he had actually meant want he said.

During the night I approached four Italian girls and invited them to visit my bar for a few drinks. They seemed rather hesitant, but agreed to swing by after they met up with their friends at a different bar on the other side of town. They were from Turin in northern Italy, which would explain why two of them had noticeably blue eyes. I decided that, as I am a sucker for a nice set of eyes, one of them would be my target.

By 1.50am there was still no sign of the Italians and after a hard night of drinking and socialising it was almost time for me to finish work. The only actual ‘work’ I ever did at that place was to mop the floors once the final partygoers had exited the bar. By 2.15am we had usually finished our staff duties and it was yet again time to hit one of the two decent bars open until 4am, ‘Inside Out’ or ‘Grand Café’.

As I made my way out the door I noticed a familiar looking group of girls standing no more than 30 metres down the road. It was the Italians. As I began to approach the group I noticed that two men had stopped to talk to them, and judging by their use of hand gestures they were also Italian.

“Hey” I said interrupting what seemed like a very intense conversation.

“Oh hello, we were just on our way to come see you. Has your bar closed?”

“Yeah, but I’m on my way to Grand Café now if you guys want to come with me.” I replied.

In some ways meeting up with girls after work was a much better option because attempting to seduce girls whilst trying to keep your boss happy isn’t exactly an easy task.

After introducing myself to their new male friends it became immediately apparent that they had a certain twinkle in their eyes when making eye contact. My sexual orientation radar suggested that they were gay and judging by their perfect complexions, abnormally toned bodies and flamboyant dress sense I had no reason to think otherwise. I could confidently dismiss them as any type of threat to my penis' well-being.

We made it to the bar by 2.30am and as I had until 4am to make my intentions clear, I had to move fast. Upon our arrival I noticed a group of my friends congregated at the far end of the bar. I decided that if I was going to isolate one of the blue-eyed Italians I would have to merge the two groups in an attempt to keep the rest of them distracted.

After introducing the Italians to my group of friends I noticed that one of the blue-eyed Italians had remained on the far side of the bar to order a drink. She had isolated herself perfectly so I had no other option but to pounce. I was beside her at the bar in what seemed like less than a second; if 10 metre power walking was an Olympic sport I would be up there with the best.

“Hey, I didn’t get your name before.” I said whilst playfully poking her in the ribs.

“Giulietta.” She replied whilst looking deep into my eyes.

Giulietta was short with long wavy hair, sun-kissed skin and a thin build. Her English wasn’t exactly amazing, but she seemed to be able to maintain a good conversation. Within twenty minutes she was grinding her ass up and down my crotch on the dance-floor. My friends and the other Italians had made themselves comfortable at a nearby set of table and chairs; the night was looking promising.

By 4am we had spent the last 45 minutes making out like we were getting paid to do it.

“Do you want to come back to my apartment? We have an awesome rooftop. You can bring all your friends if you want.” I said as we made our way back to the group.

“Okay I will ask them” She replied

The rest of the Italians agreed to join us for a party on the rooftop, which seemed like a great idea at the time, but David had Ideas of his own.

The group quickly made it’s way through the clusters of drunken tourists down towards our doorstep. As I reached into my back pocket for the key to our apartment I heard a voice yelling down to us from on of the windows. It was David welcoming the group and I to join him for drinks on the rooftop. David sounded outrageously drunk and with the knowledge that he was most likely to take revenge out on me tonight, I very cautiously lead the group up the three flights of stairs towards the rooftop.

Upon our arrival David proceeded to greet the group completely naked. The girls were understandably taken back by having a naked man mingling amongst them. With each side-to-side movement of his penis the girls became noticeably more uncomfortable. Not only was David attempting to cock-block me, he was trying to pull off the ultimate four way cock-block.

I decided to take everyone downstairs to the bedrooms in hope that David would follow us leaving the rooftop completely free for us to sneak back up to. As it turns out it was one of my most brilliant ideas. Within 30 minutes Giulietta and I had the entire rooftop to ourselves whilst David was busy ruining everybody else’s night in the bedrooms below.

“I have my period” Giulietta blurted out before I could even start to kiss her again.

“It’s okay, I do too” I replied keeping a straight face.

At this point in the night I didn’t really care if I had a little bit of blood on my dick and I had had my fair share of period sex, but nothing would prepare me for this.

After some of the roughest sex I’ve ever had in my life I decided to walk back down the stairs towards the kitchen in search of water. As the rooftop had been pitch-black, I made my way through the darkness and shuffled my feet along the ground to avoid falling down the stairs. I was only a few steps down when the lights were suddenly switched on and I watched as what seemed like a stampede of humans came running up the stairs towards me. Alan was the first of the group to stop walking up the stairs. He had a look on his face as if he had smelt a fart and seen a ghost at the same time.

“What the fuck is on your shirt?” He yelled.

As I slowly looked down at my shirt the group on the stairs burst out laughing.  If they didn’t know any better it would of seemed as though I had brutally murdered Giulietta. My T-shirt was covered in blood and some of it had begun to drip off my t-shirt onto my legs. “How could a girl’s vagina produce so much blood?” I remember thinking to myself as Alan made his way towards me and proceeded to put his palm up to offer a ‘high five’.

“That’s fucking disgusting, but awesome!” He screamed

As I put my hand up to meet his he quickly pulled away. It was too dark and I was too drunk to realise my forearm and fingers were also drenched in blood.

- Gavin Madden

Bad Health and Banging In The Baltics Part 2 of 2

After collecting our jackets we ventured back out onto the frosty streets of Riga. Through the alcoholic haze I attempted to devise a plan that would see Girl#1 inside my hostel without her friend within the next half an hour. Before I had time to come up with anything the three of us noticed a fight in the street up ahead. A small crowd of people had gathered around to watch, but under the strict commands of my penis I was to casually continue walking.

“Oh a fight! We have to go watch it!” Squealed Girl#1’s friend.

I turned to Girl#1 and gave her an ‘Is she serious?’ face.

“She loves to watch fights so just give her a minute and then we can keep walking.” Said Girl#1 after sensing I wasn’t overly pleased with the idea.

As we walked closer to the commotion I noticed that one of the fighters bared a strikingly similar resemblance to that of David’s. He ticked all of the boxes: Lanky, long dreadlocks, olive complexion.

“HOLY SHIT, that’s my friend!”

I maneuvered my way through the onlookers to find the man David was fighting was a drunk Russian. The Russian’s shirt had been torn off, his front teeth had been knocked out, he was covered in blood and understandably he didn’t seem overly happy about it. As I arrived David was punched to the ground so I tried to defuse the situation by wrapping my arms around the bloody Russian in an attempted bear hug. With my jumper now covered in blood I too was pushed onto the frosty cobblestone. It became increasing obvious to the audience that I had never been in a street fight in my life, but I wasn’t about to let a Russian psychopath beat the shit out of David.

Two police officers arrived to find David and I covered in Russian blood. From the officer’s point of view it would seem as if we had kicked the shit out of the Russian, however this wasn’t the case.

After David lost me inside of the club he bumped into the Russian inside the club’s bathroom. The Russian had already been severely beaten and in his delusional state was accusing David of being responsible for his injuries. David ignored him and made his way back onto the dance-floor only to find he was being followed. The Russian would continue following him until he eventually snapped.

“Okay cunt, you want to fight? Let’s fucking fight. Let's go outside right fucking now!”

David was eventually arrested after many failed attempts to plead our case. I on the other hand, much to the delight of my penis, was free to go. So after a minor setback we continued on our way to the hostel.

My mind was working at full speed trying to figure out a way to get rid of Girl#1’s friend. Killing her would obviously land me in jail, but I would still have time to have sex with Girl#1 before I was eventually arrested, however I don’t see how the sex with this girl could be so mind blowing that it would have been worth spending the rest of my life in prison for. I also don’t think she would be in the mood to bang just after I had murdered her friend. I was too drunk to think of anything sensible. 

As we approached my hostel I had all but given up on getting her alone inside my dorm room. As we chatted about the night's events and exchanged Facebooks I heard the trotting of leather on cobblestone; someone was running up the street towards the hostel.

“Gavin! Gavin! Gavin!” The man shouted. It was Richard the Canadian.

The two girls and I stopped mid-conversation and directed all of our attention to the panicked Canadian’s screams. Richard arrived at the front of the hostel with eyes that were noticeably dilated. Before we could open our mouths he began explaining his night after I had lost him inside of the club.

“Duuuuude, I’m being chased by a security guard!”

“What do you mean?” I replied eager to hear his explanation.

“I’m being chased by a security guard! I was approached by two of the hottest girls I have ever seen at the club and they asked me if I wanted to join them for lines of cocaine in their hotel room. I was too drunk to realise how suspiciously good it sounded. After two, maybe three lines of coke they suggested I buy them two bottles of the hotel’s champagne in return.”

I began to realise where this story was going.

“When the champagne arrived to the hotel room a security guard handed me a bill demanding the equivalent of one thousand Canadian Dollars. I panicked, man, I panicked! I punched the security guard in the face and ran for my life!”

After calming Richard down, I strategically introduced him to Girl#1’s friend. Richard, still high on free cocaine, became increasingly interested in my target’s friend, which gave me an opportunity to ask Girl#1 if she wanted to see how ‘cool’ the hostel’s sauna was. She obliged so enthusiastically that it was as if she’d never seen one before.

With Richard and Girl#1’s friend in deep discussion I snuck Girl#1 past the hostel’s reception, up the stairs and into the sauna. Within minutes our layers of clothing covered the sauna floor like thick furry carpet.

“Come to mama!” Said Girl#1 as she guided my cock into her freshly waxed vagina.

David spent the night in jail and months later, was sent a letter of apology from the Latvian government.

- Gavin Madden 

Bad Health and Banging In The Baltics Part 1 of 2

With the European summer of 2010 coming to an end, David, my travelling buddy at the time, and I decided that we would spend the little money we had left on sampling the fruits of Eastern Europe. My bank balance was sitting at a laughable $1500AUD and our return home to Australia wasn’t for six weeks. Eastern Europe is cheap, but trying to budget $250 per week whilst planning on getting drunk every night was going to be as easy as refusing a threesome.

After a drug filled final night in Lagos we caught the bus at 7am to Seville, Spain where we were to catch a flight to Tallinn, Estonia later that evening. Within an hour of stepping off the bus onto the 40C+ streets of Seville my body had begun to shut down. An epic summer of sleepless nights, drugs and malnutrition had begun to take its toll on my already frail body. My insides felt as if I had been starved, bashed and brutally raped. My backpack was too full to allow for all my clothes to fit, so naturally the only option I had left was to wear the remaining winter jackets, jumpers and t-shirts on top of my singlet and shorts. I spent my time in Seville wearing what seemed like ten layers of thick wool wrapped around my entire body, bleeding from my gums (gingivitis) and suffering from the worst come down in human history. I was fucked.

Upon our arrival to the hostel in Tallinn I collapsed onto a bed in the hostel dorm, where I would spend the following four nights curled up into a ball of misery. I had developed one of the worst cases of tonsillitis that I had had in recent memory. Every night I was forced to listen to the frenzied sounds of drunken debauchery in the common area as I laid in bed wallowing in my own self-pity.

On the fifth day I had almost made a full recovery and after a conversation with David we decided that Riga would be our next destination. After breakfast we gathered all of our belongings and caught a 15euro bus to the Latvian capital.

After four days of what seemed like solitary confinement I was busting to hit the clubs of Riga in search of bangable foreign women. We were told by the owner of our hostel that a venue by the name of ‘The Club’ was a great place to meet foreigners without having to put up with large groups of pretentious snobs.  We decided to take his advice and the night that followed was one for the ages.

During our pre-drinking session we had befriended a Canadian by the name of Richard. He was an average looking guy with a fair complexion and short, ash blonde hair. His motives for going out were similar to that of any single male backpacker: Get drunk, talk to cute girls and have sex with them.

Upon arrival to ‘The Club’ we paid our 5 Lats entry and decided to head upstairs to get a better view. After a quick birds eye scan of the dance-floor it was obvious that we’d come to the right place. The mix of the fellow partygoers was split 60/40 in favour of women, however I was much too busy eyeing off potential targets to notice a pair of attractive blondes sitting alone on the couches behind us.

David: “She we go over and talk to them?”

Me: “Yes.”

As I turn my body to face them I put one foot in front of the other whilst trying to think of something witty to say before arriving at their feet, but as my brain had been starved of female interaction for almost a week I went with something simple, yet effective.

“Hey, where are you guys from? I said with a stupidly large smile on my face.

They stopped mid-conversation to face me as they quickly assessed my aesthetic qualities.

“Hello, we are from Finland” Replied the decidedly less attractive of the two.

After two minutes of mediocre conversation I turned back to David and Richard in attempt to wave one of them over, but they had disappeared.  It would be hours before I came into contact with either of them again.

The girls were friendly and seemingly competing for my attention, so leaving me alone gave me the obvious advantage of being able to choose to persue the more attractive of the two. I spent the next two hours trying to isolate the Girl#1, but her friend was rather shy and blew off any male attention she received in order to continue hanging around Girl #1 and I.

I gave up isolating Girl#1, so whilst making a conscious effort to find David and Richard I resorted to getting the Fins as drunk as I possibly could. For every ten minutes of dancing I made them agree to taking a shot, so after a few hours we were understandably shit-faced.

I began to tire so I decided that if I was going to have enough energy to have sex I would have to persuade the girls to leave with me immediately.

“I’m going to go home. Do you girls want to walk me home?” I managed to slur. The ten or so shots I had taken had begun to take effect.

“Yeah we’re getting pretty tired as well, but we don’t feel like walking very far.”

“Oh, I live about a 10 minute walk from here.” A blatant lie, but I wasn’t going to allow the night to end without a make-out at the very least.

TO BE CONCLUDED

Balancing Your Lifestyle Whilst Saving For Your Next Big Trip

I remember the plane ride home from my first big trip to Europe. As I sat in my economy class seat I reminisced about the last two years of my life partying, exploring and having sex with strangers. I was suddenly faced with the prospect of returning to full time employment and living with what I fear most: Routine.

I spent the next six weeks without a job. During that time I found it hard to come to terms with partying any less than 3 nights a week, but lack of funds soon became my personal party pooper and gave me no choice but to retreat into forced hibernation.

Every now and again I would look over photos of that amazing two years spent in what now seemed like a dream and became increasingly nostalgic. The nostalgia became so overwhelming that it was turned into something that fueled my insane desire to travel again.

“If I am to have that kind of freedom again within the next year, I have no other choice but to adopt a ‘saving money mindset’.” I remember thinking to myself as I paced up and down my hallway waiting for the results of the job interview I had taken a few days beforehand. At this stage I was around $10,000 in debt and it seemed as though the road to financial freedom was years away. I needed to sit down, write out a budget and stick to it, but that task was easier said than done.

Within the first two months I had successfully paid back $5000, but the routine had started to get to me. My hibernation period had left me completely uninspired and although saving money was going to fund my return to the promise land in the long term, it wasn’t giving me enough fulfillment in the short term.

I cracked. I began to feel the need to go out and get drunk every single weekend. My urge to fuck random women from nightclubs was back and I didn’t care if I spent every cent that I earned getting it. I went from being the guy in hibernation mode to the guy insisting on all of his friends joining him for drinks. The thought of routine had scared me into forgetting that my primary objective for returning home was to save enough money for another adventure. Spending $300 on a Saturday night became my new routine and it seemed as though I had lost all motivation to travel once again.

Six months had now passed and my spending to saving ratio was a disgrace. I was still over $5000 in debt and, along with myself, my alcohol/drug intake was to blame. I had starved myself of freedom and was now experiencing the side effects of ridding myself of anything that would affect my goal of traveling again as soon as possible.

My mistake was obvious; I lived an unbalanced lifestyle. I either gave 100% to partying or 100% to saving. It seem as though I either wanted to leave again within a few months or never again. Instead of allowing myself to splurge every now and again I banned myself from any social event because I saw it as a money burning exercise. What I needed to do was allow myself to be social, but at the same time be disciplined enough to stick to a realistic budget.

I needed to create a budget that promoted both short term and long-term freedom. Saving 75% of what I earned was all well and good, but it was destroying my soul and provided me with little short-term fulfillment.

Over the next few months I saw a noticeable change in my mental health. I adopted both a ‘living for the weekend’ lifestyle and a ‘saving for the big trip’ mentality. By coming to terms with the fact I wouldn’t be able to travel for at least another 6 months I was able to fully enjoy the present by living in moment, but at the same time keeping the thought of travel in the back of my mind.

For me, saving the majority of what I earned by not socialising wasn’t a sustainable lifestyle even if it was only going to be for six months. Coming to terms with waiting another year to travel was tough, but it became easier as I discovered that the reward was being able to have my proverbial cake and eat it too.

- Gavin Madden

The Best Blowjob I've Ever Received

For the majority of men the blowjob is sacred and for some it would be put above the importance of family and friends. Finding a girl who knows what she is doing can be somewhat of a rarity and sometimes a girl will flat out refuse to put her mouth anywhere near your penis because A) She doesn’t like taking control of a sexual encounter or B) She doesn’t have any experience and is too scared of sucking at it (pun intended).

For me a good blowjob can be better than sex itself. For one, your only job during the deed is to maintain an erection, and two it’s fun to watch a girl put all her energy into making sure you achieve orgasm. 

  

It would be a little optimistic for me to say that you’ll ever experience a blowjob similar to that of Heather Brook, but if you do, I wouldn’t blame you for marrying the fuck out of a girl who possesses such a skill. In my opinion her blowjobs are the epitome of perfect and for those who are not familiar with Heather Brook, I’d recommend you pay a visit to any porn video sharing website and see the blowjob queen in all her glory.

Of all the blowjobs I have received there is one that stands out and is number one on my ‘Blowjob Hall Of Fame’ list. The way this particular incident came about was by no means conventional, but since when has being conventional ever got me anywhere when it comes to my sexual exploits?

It was very much a standard evening back in June of 2011. I had been back from Europe for 6 months and I was back working for an energy company in Melbourne. For the first few months of my return I had struggled to come to terms with the thought of only partying a few times a week, but due to the financial strain I had no choice but to knuckle down, stay home and pay back the credit card debt I had accumulated in my two solid years of traveling.

During my hibernation phase I spent my time browsing Facebook, learning Spanish and got into the habit of watching an entire television series within a couple of days. In contrast to my visit to Europe, I was living a very mediocre lifestyle, this was until I received an inbox message on Facebook.

“Hey do I know you? I swear we’ve met before.”

It was from a girl name Katrina. Her Facebook profile was on private, but after looking over her profile pictures I was 100% sure I had never met her in my life.

“Yeah, I think we might have met a couple of weeks ago. Where do you normally go out?” I replied 

“I usually hit the city clubs, but have been staying in a bit lately. Where do you live?”

I thought asking where I lived was somewhat forward, but she was cute and my hibernation had forced me into a monotonous masturbation routine so I wasn’t really in the mood to care how forward she was being. 

After we finished exchanging our locations it became immediately apparent that we were within a ten-minute drive of each other. Was it a coincidence? Or was it carefully thought out pick-up plan on her part? Either way I was down.

“Oh you live really close to me. I might have to come visit you sometime.” 

“Yeah, you might have to.” I replied still remaining a little cautious.

I was aware that things like this do not happen all the time. I’m sure other men have had sex with girls that they’ve met on Facebook, but having a girl randomly message you with the intention of fucking you without a prior meeting isn't exactly a common occurrence.

We would exchange a few flirtatious messages over the next couple of weeks. I was keen to meet up, but at the same time I maintained a certain degree of suspicion as I wasn't overly excited about being abducted and raped for the entertainment of a forty five year old, balding sociopath.

"Hey I'm free tonight! What's your address, let's go for a drive :)"

I decided to take the risk. The chances of  her offer being that of a horny young woman far outweighed the chances of it being a horny elderly man.

I sat patiently on my front porch glancing down at my watch every couple of minutes; she was late.

The sun had set and the cold of the winter night set in. As I began to believe she wasn't going to show I heard a car turn into my street and watched as a small dark car made its way towards my driveway. It was her.

"Hey, how's it going?" I said as I made myself comfortable in the passenger seat. The car smelt as if she had just drenched the entire interior in perfume.

"Hey, we can't have sex." She blurted out. It was as if she had been thinking about it the whole day and suddenly decided dishing out sex to random Facebook men would make her seem slutty. 

"That's cool" I said through a chuckling fit. 

"Okay cool, where's a good place to park my car with a bit of privacy?"

"I know a place." I replied 

As we turned into the car park of the local swimming pool I began to feel a little more at ease with the whole situation. Katrina was just an attractive girl wanting to try something new and I was happy to lend a helping hand/penis.

Much to my approval she parked in the darkest part of the car park and immediately sat facing me as she pulled on the handbrake. 

I decided that the longer we chatted the more awkward the situation would get so I leaned in and kissed her. She had thick luscious lips and was an amazing kisser. As our hands begun to wander I could feel my cock enlarging. 

"I'm on my period so I can only give you head." She said as if she was expecting nothing but disappointment from me.

"That doesn't bother me." I replied as I guided her hand toward my rock hard erection. 

She was quick to unzip my jeans and push me into the back seat as she licked her lips in preparation. 

I leaned back on my elbows as she began sucking on the head of my cock. My initial thoughts were that this would be a standard, by the book blow job. I was wrong. 

Before I knew it she had devoured my entire cock. As her nose became acquainted with my pelvic bone I let out a moan, part pleasure, part disbelief. 

Up until this point of my life the only experience I had had with deep throating was observing it from a computer screen. 

As I blew my load into the back of her throat I collapsed into a ball of pleasure. A simple inbox message had turned into the most flawless blowjob I had ever received.

I am yet to come across another girl with skills of this kind, however I have dedicated a small part of my life to finding another deepthroat queen.

- Gavin Madden