b3ta.com user bergec
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» I don't understand the attraction

I confuse myself...

I don't find the people in most porn attractive in the least. I don't like how they act, the over-the-top, utterly fake moaning and noises. I don't like the bizarre sexual positions. I don't like the baffling behavior that seems so common, like some guy interrupting a blowjob to smack the girl in the face with his cock. I don't find any of it the least bit interesting or stimulating or sexy.

But my cock does.

I sit there, uninterested, bored, often revolted. With a hard-on.

Honestly, I just don't understand the attraction.
(Fri 16th Oct 2009, 20:44, More)

» Babysitters

How I Learned to Wank
The house I grew up in had a very comfortably finished basement with its own television but it didn't have its own cable box or VCR, so it only showed what was on the television upstairs in the living room. While this was generally a bit of a pain in the butt, it did have an unintended perk.

My first introduction to pornography was thanks to my babysitter who decided, while I played quietly downstairs, to help herself to my parent's collection of VHS porn. Imagine my surprise when I flipped on the rec room TV and was greeted by a close-up shot of a woman jacking off some guy with a running commentary about said masturbation. Unsurprisingly, this also marked my introduction to self-abuse. The narration was very helpful in learning some real technique. It also clued me in that said stash of video porn existed, a bit of information I put to use at a later date, when I was allowed to be alone in the house.

All-in-all, a useful turning point in my childhood sexual development. Thanks, Christina!

Length? To my young eyes, in close-up, it seemed HUGE!
(Mon 1st Nov 2010, 17:16, More)

» The most childish thing you've done as an adult

Pet Names
My wife and I like to give each other ass-themed pet names.

"Hey, Ass-Bandito!"
"Good morning, Ass-Patroller."
"Time for bed, Butt-Boutineer."
"Where's the remote, Ass-Comanche?"

This habit is becoming troublesome as our child has become capable of speech. Of course, being who we are, we encourage him.

"Griffin, call mommy a butt-burrito."
(Mon 21st Sep 2009, 17:11, More)

» Bodge Jobs

Keep the junker running
Once upon a time, I had an aging pickup truck and no money with which to fix it... or register it... or insure it. Really, I was barely making enough money each week to stay fed and pay some of the bills. Thank god I wasn't a drinker. At any rate, steadily bits and pieces of the vehicle began to stop working or, in some cases, fall off.

Memorably, one winter the windshield wipers stopped working. Now, I live in Buffalo. In the colder months, we tend to get some snow. By "some", I mean we can get several feet in a go. After a good run, you can pretend you are Luke Skywalker in that last battle in the original Star Wars. Anyway, windshield wipers aren't really an optional convenience. Add in the complication that I couldn't afford to get stopped by the cops, since my vehicle lacked any of the necessary paperwork and my license was suspended.

So, I was forced to improvise. I cut the strings off of an apron I stole from work, tied them together, and tied the ends to one of the wipers while threading it through the cab of the truck. Pull the string one way and the wipers went up. Pull it the other way and the wipers went down. That winter, I got a lot of practice driving on ice with one hand while the other frantically worked the wiper blades. I won't claim that exercising that motion didn't have its perks, but it also required me to keep both windows partly open in below-freezing weather. All in all, very much the health and safety risk, though it did serve the broader purpose of allowing me to drive to work when it was snowing.
(Thu 10th Mar 2011, 19:22, More)

» House Guests

The People's Republic of Shithole
When we were students, my brother and I lived in a house owned by our mother (who lived far away) and rented out a room to my best friends from high school. He was, sadly, not the best of tenants. He was an avid socialist and put his ideology into practice by helping himself to any food in the kitchen, regardless of whose it was. He rarely contributed to grocery shopping but would eat the lion's share of whatever we bought. He lived off of his student loans, so he only had money at the beginning of the semester (when we'd eat like kings, admittedly), but rarely had a job, instead spending his spare time protesting and putting up posters.

His personal habits were also suspect. He would often hang out in the living room in his underwear watching TV with his black lab licking his belly button (which it did with disturbing frequency and vigor). He picked a corner of the dining room in which to throw his used beer bottles, breaking them against the radiator there. Truth be told, though, none of us was living a healthy existence and the place was a shit hole as none of us was motivated to keep it clean. It was a low point of all of our lives and depression didn't help. I recall spending a couple days sleeping on the couch. Our roommate mournfully lamented, "Eric didn't get up today." Of course, I have never had more fun than I did during this period of my life. We had a language made of references to our favorite movies, songs, and books and our perfectly synced senses of humor made our lives like some sort of dark comedy. We daydreamed about starting a band and calling it "Karl Marx and the Instruments of Labor" and would scavenge for dimes for ten cent chicken wing night at the local bar (which eventually threw us out).

One interesting bit was when a friend of his from NYC moved in when he started to attend the local university. He was a neat, spiritual guy who quickly learned to never leave his room, where he would often chant and meditate (which was oddly soothing when you'd take a bath, as the bathroom shared a wall with his room). After living there only a few months, he returned home to find us slobbing about around the TV and yelled "What's wrong with you people?" and went to his room. He didn't return after Christmas break, just sent for his stuff. We were such sad, pathetic creatures that we broke the Buddhist.
(Tue 11th Jan 2011, 17:54, More)
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