Exotic Magazine Online Uncovering adult entertainment online since 1993
"Can we, as a country, all agree

xmag.com : December 2003: What's Your Fucking Problem?

When I was about fifteen years old, someone told me that a woman's sexual peak came around age thirty-five. This scared the shit out of me. I was already horny and barely satisfied with the dorky punk rock boys that notched my belt. The thought of twenty more years of that twisted burning WANTING growing stronger in me was unimaginable. I dismissed it as myth and poppycock.
I convinced myself that society had invented this myth to keep girls my age from going off with the potent boys peaking around eighteen cuz horny young girls are a menace to decent society. It was just another grownup conspiracy falling under the banner "when you're older, you'll understand." Fuck that. I was fifteen, on fire and if I didn't understand it right then, I'd figure it out with hands-on experience.
Fifteen years later, I'm a few months into being thirty, working at a bar and stocking kegs in the beer shed. I was counting cases, doing inventory and generally dull work on a warm afternoon. No one was in the bar, I was all alone when all of a sudden my legs went soft under me. The heat crept up underneath my clothes and my skin glistened with a light sweat. The tingling and the pressure building in my body buckled my noodley knees til' I went down plop on top of a keg.
"OH MY GOD I HAVE TO CUM RIGHT NOW!" my body growled. I barely got a finger into my pants. I came quick, but like a begging, drooling dog at the dinner table, my pussy persisted with its demanding ache.
I must've looked deranged peeking around with my pants pulled open, one hand ready to right them if someone popped in, the other squeezing and pinching a nipple under my shirt. I sat back in the shed and jerked off repeatedly, cursing every time I came, harder and harder because it wasn't working. "DICK!!!" my body screeched. "BRING US SOME GODDAMNED MANLY FUCK MEAT!!!!" After maybe fifteen minutes the heat wave finally ebbed. I went to the bathroom, mopped the girly shine out of my pants and tried to get back to work.
"Is this it?" I worried. "Is this the beginning of my peak?" Jesus. What a rip off. At thirty I was way hotter than I was at fifteen, but most men my age were starting to get into fucking you only once and then feeling just ducky about it for days. I prayed that my crazed heat was just a hormonal fluke and I could go back to being my normal horny self. The whole sexual peak thing was a myth, after all. I was sure of it. No way could it be that crazy AND get worse for another five years. A fucking conspiratorial myth.
Now as I write this, it's 2:30 in the morning, I'm naked, nearly thirty-five and limping around the house moaning. I cannot sleep. My pussy is wet, crying silky little tears for the dick we won't get tonight. My boyfriend is snoring through a dream in which he's plowing a fifteen year old.
Myth shmyth.








© 2003 Xmag, LLC. All rights reserved. copyright | trademark | legal notices