Archive for the ‘Fictional Short Stories’ Category

Alien Abduction – The Day John’s Life changed forever…

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grey_alienDisclaimer: This is a fictional short story, as this tale doesn’t represent any real-life characters.

John was a middle-age farmhand who put a lot of hard work into his family-operated ranch.  He was married, had a couple kids and, for the most part, had a fairly normal life.  John often liked to go out into this big open field after a long day of work, and drink beer around a campfire.  Outside from the dang heat, it was a great place to live if a person liked open space, farming, livestock, and the good ol’ outdoors.

Anyway, it was a warm, calm summer night in Texas…

John was doing his usual, nightly round of throwing back some beers with a few buds, and telling campfire stories and whatnot.
After a while, his friends went home before they drank too much, and John stayed by the fire (not too close, of course, as campfires are nice for light in the summer time, but they emit a lot of unwanted heat) downing a few more beers.

Suddenly, he got this unusual feeling, sort of like a static charge, and then the fire went out, like… poof!  Within seconds, a bright light under a pulsating UFO was above him.
The next thing John knows, he is aboard this mystery craft, as if he was transported, sort of like on Star Trek.


…Nervous as a preacher in a whore house, he was befuddled by it all.
He was trapped inside some sort of clear tube, and he could see four little grey alien figures in what appeared to be a control room.
The aliens had on dark grey, shiny suits with a big black belt that held a few things, including what looked like some hand-held device.

The inside of the UFO was very uniform, sleek, and was all one metallic color.
Everything inside the spaceship had rounded edges; there were no right angles at all, as if the interior was molded from one piece of metal.

…5 minutes have passed, John was still stuck in a see-through cylindrical tube, and the little aliens with big, black, bug eyes was yet to even acknowledged his presence.

The story now switches over to it being narrated by John, his self, in what he at least “thinks” he recalls from the supposed alien abduction:

One of the aliens points his finger in a stern fashion towards the others and then scurries off to, what appeared to be, the lower deck of the ship.
The other three aliens returned to their seats and were viewing rather large, wall-mounted monitors that looked like space charts.
I don’t know for sure, what in the hell they were doing, but it looked like charts of some type.

Now here’s where I about shit myself while being trapped inside that tube: Out comes from the lower deck of the ship, the grey alien that left a few moments ago and alongside him/her/it, was a much larger being that was a green, reptilian looking creature with some glossy black outfit, holding some glowing sphere in one hand (it wasn’t a Himalayan salt globe, that’s for sure), and carrying some shiny gadgets in the other.
Now, although ignored before, those two extraterrestrials were staring at me intensely.

The grey alien and his ugly green comrade, came near the tube. The grey alien hits a control button and a glossy table rises from the floor, in front of me. I’ve never even thought about a retractable table before, but I was too damn nervous to be impressed with their obvious technological breakthroughs!

After the table erected, the tubular, glass-like chamber that I was still in, started to fill up with some type of vapor or gas, and the next thing I remember, was awakening in the field with my wife screaming at me and telling me to “get my drunk ass up!”

I stumbled in the house, confused as a Chimp getting taught Calculus, and went straight to bed.
The next couple of days were fine, as I convinced myself that it was all somehow a dream.
After that, things grew progressively worse, as I started actually having dreams about what happened after my blackout from the vapor.
I just don’t get it; if I had a blackout from the gas or vapor that was released in the chamber, how can I dream about the ungodly types of experiments they did on me? Disturbing questions started coming into my mind, like: Why did that grey alien stick that probe up my ass? Why did they take scrapings from my tongue and also take hair samples? What was up with that green reptilian being and his/her fascination with my cock?

I feel violated, in an otherworldly way!  My life has changed forever…
I no longer drink beer in open fields anymore, as I now drink stronger alcoholic beverages like Vodka, while staying in the freakin’ house!
I sold the ranch, got out of farming, moved way up north, got me an indoor job, and I currently live in a big, crowded city with lots of pavement and road signs and traffic lights.
I’m trying to make my life as uninviting to those perverted anal probing alien bastards, as possible!
Oh, and another thing, I get so tired of hearing about the “ancient alien theorists” or whatever they call themselves nowadays.
All I got to say to the ancient astronaut theorists, is that I received more than a theory from your lovely ancient alien freaks; I hope y’all get abducted and have your genitals fondled, tongue scraped, hair pulled, and your bunghole explored; cheers!

Hey, at least this story was more plausible than the one found here:  “Alien Encounter

–End of the Fictional Short Story “Alien Abduction – The Day John’s Life changed forever…”

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I can get that 12 inch dick & dozen roses for ya, by age 45!

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Disclaimer and/or warning: This is a creative writing site with many diverse topics, ramblings, ideas, fictional stories (for entertainment purposes), poetry and informative subject matter; although the promotional content found here can be quite lame, but, it also makes me money at the same time, so get over it…  However, it is not always about selling products and/or making money from the advertisements, and often times, the “creative department” found here may seem a little bit sinister to the more “proper” individuals out there, but please forgive me, as I’m not perfect either, but at least I don’t usually try to make money off of these type of posts…  Besides, posts like this are just for fun and if you run across a post title on this site that sounds too crude for your taste, nobody is making anyone read anything here…  Ha!

Anyway, forget about current events and the global issues at hand, and lets focus on what is really important here…  I’m currently 3 inches away, 13 years until, and 12 roses short, from the “12 inch dick & dozen roses by age 45 goal” that will truly balance the Yin & Yang of the perverted Universe, but don’t worry – I have a plan!  Listen and take heed; this is very important for your future if you remain to exist, dear females within the sexy Milky Way and/or fellow sex-fiend mutha fuckin’ bitches! Ha-ha!

I figure that, by the time I reach the ripe age of 45, at the rate I’m going and if I make it that long before drifting into the nearest Quasar from some bizarre sector of deep space, that I will totally be able to be romantic, sweet, wild and savage at the same time and actually have a successful, fruitful relationship without all the bull-shit!  Yes-yes!  …But before I fall into a black hole and end up in another universe or drift into a distant Quasar for a whole different set of the various galactic forms of erotic, solar-bound recreation, I aim to please a small portion (unless I find somebody extremely loyal who will stay with me through thick & thin) of the estrogen-based, hormonally scrambled & challenged bitches of America that dwell on planet Earth, in due time!  Yeah, put your damn batteries down, there is hope after all…  Ha-ha-ha!

[Please wait, while I disable the Google Advertisements for this post, as having them around this lovely blog post, may cause irrelevance to the adverts in some sort of ill-mannered fashion.  Plus, I’d hate to violate the Google advert T.O.S. agreement, since I’m now actually worthy of regular checks (finally!) that contain 3 digits before the cent mark.  Also, maintaining 4 blogs and a main website, can get a little stale at times without the occasional creative ramblings, so here we are…with or without the fact that I’m relying on my “web works” as a source of “roommate replacement income.”  Uh, yeah, how pathetic, but anyway…]

I’ve did the math and have come to this conclusion, along with lots of pulling, jerking, tugging, stroking, pressurizing, bending, beating – you name it!  I figure that since age 15, poor kid, the pathetic, pristine 6 inch dick from that young age has ultimately grew to the robust 9 inch cock that I carry with me today, and this happened by the time I was age 30 or thereabouts (okay, it happened way sooner than that, but I’m trying to keep the math simple!), that by the time I reach 45 years old, it will be a full 12 inches unless I quit abusing it like I’ve did the last 17 years or so…  Ouch!    At any rate, since I’ve never been a rose picker, but I did once buy a dozen roses when I was 22.125 years old, that I would be due to buy another set of 12 roses at the age of 44.25 years old, which would probably end up being closer to 45… AND, you factor in the age 15 = 6 inches and the age 30 = 9 inches into the equation, I’m almost being semi-prophetic with a massive preDICTion of penile bliss, that my grand age of 45 years may equal 12 inches of dick plus a fuckin’ dozen red roses for some unlucky, lucky babe that has to put up with all my “stuff!”  As the New Age folks often spout without a brain even being close to intact, “say whaaa???”

On a better note without all the mathematics:  I’ve always had trouble with the sentiment section of an intimate relationship, while I often solely rely on my wicked, nefarious cock (although I have way more to offer than that) to do most of the work for me.  Overall, I must say, I make for a very unsuitable boyfriend for most of the unlucky gals that has to receive zero roses and 9 inches of cock along with lots of brain, creativity, honesty, loyalty, logic, good cooking, excellent morals, intelligent conversation (when I’m not having rage-filled arguments or griping), kinky hardcore sex, hard work and much more – with just a splash of sweetness on rare occasions!  I’m so, so, so very sorry; I really am, but please give me, oh, 13 more years and I’ll have it all planned out for ya!

Look, I understand that the females out there having to endure the orgasms from a caveman like me is totally no good without the romantic roses, and we all know that having orgasms after orgasms is a terrible thing in the long run, especially when I’m giving them some “marathon man-meat sessions,” but that’s besides the point.  Once again, I’m really sorry dear bitches; I must try to better myself and we can only hope that you all have found your lord and savior while cursing me for fucking so damn good that y’all ended up hating & loving me at the same time!  I know, I wasn’t sweet enough, and some of y’all may end up screaming like a dying dog for many hours of your life while with me – due to the hardcore penetration provided… that you enjoyed ever-so dearly, but hey, I’m not a nice guy, now am I?  Yeah, y’all should definitely leave the caveman-type guys like me…

LOL!  I just really enjoy taking a break from all the promotional work and informative writing I’ve did lately on a couple other sites of mine, and occasionally writing these silly, creative, factual & fictional ramblings on one of my many blogs via cyber space……  It is always nice to mix fact with fiction along with story-telling savvy and creative hogwash, but really:  I can get that 12 inch dick & dozen roses for ya, by age 45, even if I have to buy ’em both! Ha-ha-ha!

…And shall the depictions tell the tale, below:



Related link:  “Most guys show less sentiment than girls; deal with it!

—End of Fictional (true?) Short (long?) Story [Ha-ha!]

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Why do people keep staring at my cock?


I’m tired of all this talk about male enhancement and people suffering from a small penis. Blah-blah, you’ve got problems but maybe some of us are sick of hearing about it. Plus, the shoddy adverts for “performance pills” are not very convincing. Anyway, since everybody else can cry about their penis, I figured I’d join the party.  Cheers now!  😉

Yes folks, I got a big, divine dong and I’m proud of it.  BUT, I also have a huge problem.  I can’t figure out why some people keep staring at my cock!

These problems started early on, years ago, even in High School. But recently, it has just gotten ridiculous and I wanted to talk about some (too many to list) examples of these freaks who have staring problems! Okay, like, this past spring, I had some clown run over my mailbox because of this very issue. I was almost done mowing my yard and was just finishing up the front yard, but suddenly, I got an urge to take a piss. I was not about to walk all the way inside the house just to urinate, then have to come back out there and finish the mowing job. So, I just stood by a tree and took a whiz right there, you know, to save steps. Well, here comes some car slowly going down the road, in front of my house. I didn’t think anything about it, figured I’d wave like a friendly neighbor and be done with it. But no, no, no… This maniac comes down the road with their eyes glued to my urinating meatpole – while not even looking at the road – and runs over my damn mailbox! I don’t even think the fool even noticed my courtesy-wave, but whatever. I hurried up and finished, then I zipped up my bulging package and went running towards the mailbox, then this lunatic takes off. Yeah, the bastard performed a hit & run on my USPS receptor, but luckily for me, the damages weren’t too bad. I swear, people need to pay more attention to the road!

Another recent example, is when I went to the dentist office about a month ago. I had to get a couple fillings (fill the caries with silver or some other unknown alloy), but the only good thing about the visit was the super-sexy dental assistant. She had these big, succulent breasts, and full thick lips. The whole time I was laying there getting my teeth drilled, I kept fantasizing about having sex with this woman. Oh, man, I was feeling so aroused. Well, anyway, she was suppose to be holding that suction thing in my mouth where the dentist is working at – to catch the fragments that occur from getting a tooth drilled and to also suck up the water when it is sprayed in there on occasions. I was laying back in that chair, daydreaming about thrusting my manhood into her available openings and then AHH! She evidently wasn’t paying attention and let that suction device slide out of my mouth and then hovered it over one of my nostrils and I jumped as it tickled a nostril hair or something – and the dentist slipped the drill and hit one of my good teeth. After a quick yell from the dentist, telling her to pay attention, they resumed. I thought to myself “okay, that was weird.” Well, I went back to fantasizing about ramming her with my swollen rod and a minute or so later, she did it again! Talk about pissed! The dentist, without thinking, yelled out, “if you’d quit staring at his genitalia, maybe you could pay attention to your job!” The assistant, now embarrassed, left the room and I never seen her again. The dentist said he would be right back, and when he returned, he brought a different dental assistant in there. She was older and somewhat resembled a troll, but oh well… I don’t know why the other assistant was staring at my cock because they BOTH were suppose to be working on my teeth! Some people really have some serious issues, I suppose. Upon leaving, the dentist told me that next time, I should probably take care of some things before coming in there. Confused by that asinine statement, I said, “like, take care of what?” He started to stare at my genital region and then began to nod… I said, “you people are fucking crazy,” and left. I never went back to that dental asylum again!

This next example is just plain gay. A couple weeks ago, I ordered a pizza and some cheese sticks from a pizzeria. Instead of picking it up, I had it delivered – since I was in a hurry. Anyway, I set the money on the counter by the door, drank me a beer, smoked a cigarette, and decided to take a quick shower. Oh yeah, I was starting to crave some damn delicious pizza by now, and I couldn’t wait until my supreme pizza fucking arrived! After showering, when I got out, I realized that I forgot to bring my clothes into the bathroom. …On the way to my room, I decided that I wanted another beer, so I went into the kitchen, butt naked as could be (nobody was home, so who cares). About the time I shut the fridge door, I heard a knock at the door behind me. I look out and it’s the damn pizza guy already! I was thinking it usually took them longer to get here, but whatever… It’s too late to get dressed, since I don’t want to keep a person of delivery waiting – especially with hot pizza, so I grab the money off the counter and open the door. The guy, with his mouth wide open while staring at my cock, drops the damn pizza and cheese sticks on the ground and starts walking backwards. I’m holding the money in my hand, but refuse to go any further since I’m butt naked…so I yell, “hey, do you want this!” I said that several times, but it seemed to make him move even quicker to his car. I thought to myself, “hey, if he doesn’t want to take the money for the pizza, then that is his problem.” All I could do was ask, but either way, the guy had some serious staring problems and he seemed to think my dick was a focal point or something that he should be gawking at while refusing to take my money. All I was trying to do was pay for my meal, nothing more! I’m telling ya, some of these people are fucking nuts!

This last example, is really recent. It involves a couple co-workers. These two were girlfriend & boyfriend at the time, but that’s not important. I have this fire ring that I built last year, outside, in a distant field. I invited them over for a weekend beer party and we were going to build a fire and all that good stuff. Me and my girlfriend along with this couple, were having a good time on the beginning by the toasty campfire. The other guy ended up getting sick midway through the night and went home. Shortly after, my girlfriend became tired and went inside to go to bed. So, it is just me and this other girl. She seemed to be a big drinker. She didn’t look all that great in the face, but she had a body that you would kill for. Anyway, while being nice to her since she was a guest, I suggested to her that maybe we can “play around” and that I could perhaps shove my over-sized shaft into any orifice she deemed available. She was barely coherent at the time and was very intoxicated, but I think I heard a “yes” in there amid her mumbles or I suppose it could have been my imagination, who knows… So I grabbed her sternly, bent her over, shucked her pants and panties down, and began trying to pervade her vaginal cavity like the good guy I am. Man, that stuff was seriously tight. I had to keep spitting on my cock since I didn’t have any available lube out in the wilderness, but eventually, I finally broke through her firm barrier of welded madness. Oh, she screamed like I was raping her or something. I was thinking, “what is your problem?” I repetitively pounded away, stroke after stroke, thrust after thrust, while I tried to become oblivious to the fact that she sounded like a dying dog during the process. I assumed that this bitch was an ex-mental patient since she seemed to act so wild & childish while I was cramming ever inch I could get into her seemingly vice-grip-like vagina. After a few minutes, I couldn’t stand her cries any longer and I pulled out and ejaculated all over her drunken face.

Anyway, after that, I went inside to get some more beer. When I got inside, I noticed that I had blood all over me.
I was like, WTF? When I went back outside, she was passed out on the ground – but she did manage to put her pants & panties back on before collapsing to the fire-warmed earth. I said, “this sucks; get up!” She didn’t seem to respond but she was at least still breathing. Well, the next day, my girlfriend had to take her home. I must have been asleep because I don’t remember her doing such…or how…or if the other girl even made it back in the house that night.
To make a long story short, I found out later that those two (my co-workers that I invited over) were waiting until they got married to have sex and that she was still a virgin. Oops! Hell, I didn’t know! Anyway, a couple days later, I heard they broke up for good and just the other day, the funniest thing happened at work… As I passed this guy in the hallway, towards the end of the work day, he was soooo staring at my “stuff” as if he envied it or whatever…and tripped over a dust mop that was laying across his path, and landed face down into the concrete floor. I was thinking to myself in a humorous fashion, after he fell, “finally, someone gets paid back for staring at my cock!” Why do people keep staring at my cock? Ha-ha!


King of the Jungle…

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Creative Stories

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Site News:  Originally, one of the many categories within this blog was “fictional short stories.”  Well, as the site has progressed, the blog is mainly being used for informative subjects and miscellaneous topics.  Besides, when keeping up with several blogs and a main site, it is hard to find time to muse fictional writings.  On the other hand, I’ve recently added a creative writing section at the main site.

Currently, the featured creative story is 11 chapters long and is entitled “Were the first Earthmen astronauts?”  In the future, whether fact or fiction, you can find additional stories in our “recent articles” section.

Another section that has died on this blog, is the ‘rant’ category.  When and if I do an occasional rant or have something silly to moan about, you can find it at the Anti-Dolt Blog.  For example, one of my recent gripe sessions at that site was entitled “Lawn Mowing Lunatics.”  …Another example is the one I wrote that was entitled “Working for Nothing.”  Often times, on that particular blog site, in between rants, I spice it up with some sexy bikini girls, succulent breasts, and big booty babes.   …You know, for contrast.  Ha-ha!

—End of Site News

The Manifestations of One…


Mankind awakens, just like any other race of beings from an embodiment of awareness from some outlandish, bizarre galaxy from the manifestations of our own consciousness. The dividends of the properties of infinity are unlimited to the numeric value of one, so the same applies to our perspective of the zero of none or into one. It starts primitive, in whatever entity you want to enter into the subkindom, as your universal self presents itself, as long as you start elementary and within your own proper level of existence – or else you will degenerate and restart at a lower level. Our goal is to behold its amazement of our own self, our creation, consciousness as a unity of oneness, all within an unaware capsule of randomness that we created all along due to our single nonrandom force that equalled one, which equals a chess match that is never won, but designed & destined to only equal a tie – since it is from one but is never won. The ultimate goal is not so much a goal of unity, since, if we achieved it, we would all collapse again – split once again, and go bang; but there is a goal to reach a state that we are aware of an existence that is as infinite, endless & boundless as one self-creates – as our imagination & subconscious dictates. The universe is chaos, and we live in a perfect world. The weather on Earth represents our current moods, the cosmos represents our resilience, our thoughts represents as one. It is the manifestations of one…

Okay, you don’t actually believe this crap, do ya? Ha-ha! LOL!

The manifestations of one...

The manifestations of one...

Short Stories: Delayed ‘Mid-Life’ Crisis

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A 45-year-old man (John) woke up one day, only to find that he has been asleep for the last 20 years or so.

He fell for the routine of life, and jaded from it all. His 2 kids are grown up and have gone away.

His wife of 27 years left him; a sense of freedom has now reinstalled.

Where does he start from here? Where does he go; what does he do?

This wasn’t a mid-life crisis; he didn’t make this happen nor did he feel in a state of panic.

With no choice but to start over, it is child’s play once more.

Back to the bars he went; here comes the beer and random women, and gladly he will fall.

With a pocket full of money one night, John met this young gal at the bar.

She was attractive & young, way out of his league. Her name was Jane.

She had a tightly wrapped youthful package, big fake breasts, nice hips, juicy ass, the works.

After a few beers, he made a couple jokes, and threw out the gesture, “what would you do for a thousand dollars, babe?”

Jane’s shocking reply was, “hell, for a thousand dollars, I’d do you.”

They quickly got the hell out of there; John took her to his place.

He wrote her a check, but told her it had to be for the whole night.

He also demanded that they do it at least twice and one of the times had to be anal sex.

Jane, although not bothered by his request to stick it up her bunghole, insisted that he wear a condom for both times, but he gave her a wholehearted decline.

She wasn’t going to do it and nearly left, but she needed the money badly because she had a lot of medical bills to pay.

She attempted once more, and this time he said in a less friendly way, “I’m not wearing a friggin’ condom and I want what I paid for, now!”

After hearing his tone, Jane said, “Fine then; you get what you pay for!”

They proceeded with sex, and it was grueling and vigorous. John acted like a savage beast and/or like a caveman that just got turned loose.

He had her in the rear-entry (doggy style) position at first, but he was enjoying it all too well.

John, being afraid he was going to have a premature ejaculation (he didn’t want this for a first impression), switched her to a less stimulating, classic, missionary position.

He continued pumping her for a few more minutes, while squeezing her huge breasts. Then, he started pulling her hair right before he was about to climax.

As he was doing this, with the “condom thought” in his mind, he started thinking about how she might have said that because she wanted no chance at getting pregnant.

Even though he was 45-years-old, there could still be a chance.

So, he frantically pulled out of her vagina and ejaculated all over her chest and onto her face. Ahh, he felt so relieved.

Jane got up, feeling a little disrespected and sarcastically said, “thanks a lot; you could have at least warned me.”

A few hours later, he got his second turn, as he requested, except this time it was anal action.

John didn’t have to worry about getting her pregnant this time, so when he was done, he could unload his semen inside of her sphincter.

She stayed the rest of the night, and left the next morning with her thousand dollar check.

But, before leaving, she asked for his phone number. John quickly gave it to her, in hopes she would come back for more – without having to pay for it.

John felt great after having sex with this young babe; his self-esteem was high and he was on top of his game.

For the next couple of months, he was bar-hopping and having the time of his life.

He got a phone call one morning from Jane, and she told him that she had AIDs.

Now, John realizes he actually has a major mid-life crisis. It was just delayed, don’t ya think?

—The End

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