My brain over thinks, it second guesses, reconsiders,
as doubts holds me back, make me shy, and give me jitters.

But my dick head pushes out, straining hard, never pausing,
without a care about the stares at the tent that it’s causing.

I take a seat.  I need a drink.  The magic alcoholic potions
calm me down, help me drown my very conflicted emotions.

Several cocktails are sufficient for my nerves to settle down,
and soon I’m chatting freely with some girls that are around.

One is smiling, she’s beguiling, and her hand touches my knee.
I take a chance after one dance, invite her home and she agrees.

We drive away, she wants to play and her fingers find my zipper.
In my mind I’m contemplating the thorough fuck^#ing that I’ll give her.

My heart sinks when I realize all my horny plans are sunk.
I forgot my dick goes absolutely limp when I get drunk.

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Author guidance for This story

this is my life story, and it happens nearly every weekend.

updated Dec 14 '10 by little_squirt