Alright, something just crossed my mind in this cold night.

Look, we’re collecting a lot of magazines right? And I’m sure you’d have several of magazines that you’d consider the best of the lot. The “Queen of the castle” if you will. Maybe those magazines have the best pictures you’ve ever seen. Or maybe those are old classic magazines that are already out of print. Heck, maybe those magazines just simply have sentimental value to you.

For those who enjoy magazines by “using” them (you know what I mean), have you ever used them just to feel the blast of using a magazine you know so rare and you hold dearly?

Maybe you never used good magazines and simply put the best ones safe in your drawer, and just get off on some random, lesser magazines so you won’t destroy the best one with use?

This is coming from the angle of a newspaper collector. I mean, magazines are quite tough, you can just wipe it out after use and use it again (albeit in my short experience with magazines, the inner pages don’t hold up well). Newspapers, on the other hand, are pretty much single use. Spray it once and that’s it, it’s done. It’ll just be a soggy mess.

So I wonder if you ever “used” your best magazines, and for what reason. That would be an interesting, am I right?

Alright, I’ll go first :

When I was younger (like, junior high), I managed to acquire this newspaper with the half-page image of an actress. It was very difficult to obtain that newspaper : I had to do some parkour and stole it from my late uncle (trust me, it was difficult, it was like an extraction mission for the junior high me).

The image was of the actress standing in front of a dark background, looked like some kind of park. It was full of pastel colours. She was wearing what I’d describe as a party dress. I find her really cute. She was so mesmerizing.

I swore I’d hold on to it forever. And I did, I kept it in airtight container, away from sunlight, anything to make sure the newspaper would hold up forever. It was the top pinnacle of my collection.

I would sometime take it out of the container just to look at her. Everytime I saw her in my later years, I would get stone hard. Of course, I knew that newspaper wasn’t in my collection to be spent on. It would be like getting a 5-star buffet for free and only use the food for a food fight. Ridiculous.

Years later though, that newspaper kept calling to me. I was at the peak of my “spray into newspaper” period in my life. I chugged through newspaper like nothing. Teen years, you know it.

I kept wondering how it would feel like to use that sacred newspaper. No no no, I kept shrugging it off as a mad fantasy….

“But aren’t you curious how it would feel like to have her under you? Her touch? The smell? The sensation??”

Nope, I’ll just use something else if I wanted to get off. It’s too valuable for a mere split second of pleasure.

“You’re missing it, it’s just one newspaper, you have hundreds more. “

Well yeah, but this one’s special. It’s unlike those “other hundreds more” newspapers. This one’s different.

“So, you’re simply going to keep it inside the container? Sitting uselessly, not giving you any use? How long are you going to keep it? Aren’t you just a bit curious?”

Yeah sure, but… I’m not going to use it that way.

“You said it’s different, what if it could offer you a unique one-in-a-lifetime experience? You said it yourself it’s not like the other newspapers.”

“Everything has an end, right? Why not end it with a bang?”

Eventually, I lost my mind and I succumbed. I was losing sleep, I lost my appetite. I have to do it somehow I thought. I pulled it out of its container. For a newspaper that was almost a decade old, it was in very pristine condition.

At the very last second, I came up with an alternative. Instead of actually using that newspaper, I would simply look at it while doing the deed, and use some other random newspaper to rub and soak it up. It wouldn’t be the full on experience, but it would be enough to sate the hunger, and not destroy the newspaper. “Man, I’m a genius” I thought.

So I prepared everything. I went into position. I prepared the burner newspaper besides me. I was already hard just from the thought of opening her page. I was ready, I opened her page (it was page 16, I still remember it). My member was ready for liftoff, I was on edge.

“Ah, there you are” I thought. “This should be easy”. She looked at me, smiling cheerfully. I was going to reach for the sacrificial newspaper to do the deed. I put the sacred newspaper on my knees so my hand would be free to grab the burners. But then, one thought crossed my mind.

“How it would feel like to touch her with mine? It must be amazing” I said.

So I thought I’d just touch the page onto my tip, just a touch, nothing would happen right?

Wrong.

The mere act of my hard on member touching the surface of that sacred newspaper made me explode before I knew it. Time slowed down, and I was like “DEFCON 1!! ABORT! ABORT!”

But it was too late, I hunched back in this confused state on what the hell should I do. I couldn’t think clearly, my synapses were overwhelmed while that sacred newspaper was getting more and more wet by the milisecond, sustaining rapid fire from my twitching member.

Then it hit my mind “Oh yeah, the burner newspaper!” I looked to the side, it was some distance away. I tried to reach it with my hand but I couldn’t, my entire body tensed up and I simply couldn’t move for the life of me. I was drowning in this crazy throbbing sensation, my muscles refused carry out what my brain had ordered.

At the same time, I started to drift in and out of my consciousness. My heart moved to my throat, while my head embarked to the clouds. I was enjoying every second of the eruption, but there was a tiny part of my mind which kept screaming “You have to save the newspaper! You can (NOT) ruin it!” I struggled to look downward. In the midst of the chaos I had unconsciously wrapped the sacred newspaper tight around my member, which I tend to instinctively do to prevent “messy outcomes”. It was already ruined, but still saveable if I worked quickly. My hand tried to shuffle around between the mind-numbing shots trying to switch to another page, so if it had to be this way at least some other page would take the brunt of the shots instead of her picture.

But I couldn’t. Between my fingers freezing up and part of me secretly wanting to actually use the newspaper and see the outcome, it was a hard conflict. I tried to halt the fire midway, but you know damn well that’s just impossible, and simply made my member hurt really bad.

After a few miliseconds that felt like forever, I made a decision.

“If it had to come to this…. so be it!!”

I made peace with myself. I closed my eyes, I laid my back as comfortable as possible, and I let it go. I erupted uncontrollably. The sound of the liquid spraying into the newspaper was only matched by the sense-numbing sensation I got after every pulse. I buried my plan to save the newspaper deep in the back of my mind and committed fully to the act I was doing. Several pleasurable but conflicting emotions filled my mind, riding out the waves of pleasure that dominated my body. I tried to maximize the potential by thrusting the newspaper up and down violently to prolong the climax. I just didn’t care about the condition of the newspaper anymore. Nothing seemed to matter now.

This is it! The ultimate sacrifice!

Soon, everything stopped. Time returned to normal again. Sweaty and spent, I finally could have a clear look at the newspaper. The page that I had cherished since forever, was now nothing but a blob of mushy wet thing, completely ruined, with a gaping hole straight through the picture of the actress. It took me at least two straight minutes for me to realise at what sort of mess I just thrown myself into. I knew there was no way back now.

“Sensational”. I thought. “Simply sensational.”

I looked to the side, the generic random newspaper that was planned to be used was still sitting there unharmed.

“It should’ve been you!”, I said to myself.

I actually used the same newspaper about 3 times more later on before it finally turned absolutely unrecognizable. I let out a last hurrah for that newspaper by using it to clean up the mess the last time it was used. By the time it was completley used, the picture of the actress had completely gone, only the background of the picture remained, and even that was filled with countless tears and washed out ink. Off to the trash you go, an artifact of my life buried along with common waste.

Never in my wildest dreams that the newspaper would end its “life” like that, but…

“Everything has an end, right? Why not end it with a bang?”