28 January 2011


Today, my friend Ben and I went out for lunch and I felt very attracted to the waiter for no other reason than the fact that he was a man in my presence.

He came to refill our water glasses and said how they were the bane of his existence because they were so tiny. He then pointed out that the soda glasses, which look bigger, actually only hold one ounce more. When he walked away, I wanted to talk to Ben about how it seemed like he was giving us a lot of attention.

I had a thought: what if he stuck his dick in my sandwich? What if in the kitchen, he dropped his pants and - just for a second - put his penis between the bread and meat? It made me want to eat the sandwich even more.

The thought didn’t make me want to masturbate; I didn’t even get a boner thinking about it. It didn’t stem from a fetish - I didn’t imagine him ejaculating in my sandwich, rubbing around in it, or doing anything sexual to it. I’ve just been feeling so repressed lately that I’m exploding inside and this insane thought of a dick in my sandwich seemed to express that and gave me comfort as a way to feel closer to him.

I thought of telling Ben what I was thinking and how it was kind of funny, but even though I felt like I was describing a universal feeling, I knew it’d be a tough sell.

“How is your sandwich?” I asked.

“Good," he said. “How’s yours?”


Point of conversation: Make mine a double

- Grant Canyon


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