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Sex in Lockdown: Virtually Fucked
Featured Article

Sex in Lockdown: Virtually Fucked

With the coronavirus pandemic forcing most of the country into self-isolation, it may feel like the world has ground to a halt, and, well, it pretty much has. But even a global crisis cannot crush the human sexual urge, and while social distancing rules might be in play, fuckers under lockdown are using the downtime to get down and dirty. With that in mind, we present the second installment of our Sex in Lockdown series, in which readers tell us how they’re managing to get off in the age of shelter in place. This week we present the account of a Portland man who used his stimulus check to deliver a much-needed boost—in his lap.

April 15, 2020

Tax day. Hah! In an ironic COVID twist, I checked my bank account this a.m. to discover 12 hundred extra bucks—1,200 smackeroonies—courtesy of the IRS. Instead of scrambling to file my 1040 and scraping together the money I owed—like every other year in recent history—I was sitting flush.

In the past, on the very rare occasion when I’d lucked into cash, I’d treat my girl Arly to dinner and drinks—someplace nice, you know, where we didn’t have to order at the counter and take a number to our table. I’d have a bottle stashed back at my place for dessert, that Malibu coconut rum shit she loved or something equally as sugary. And then I’d try to score me a blowjob. That sloppy, balls-and-all, spit-rich treat she was so damn good at…and meted out so seldomly.

But plans like that were pointless now. Arly was stuck halfway across the U.S., in Des Moines, Iowa. She’d gone back to corn country to visit her folks when the pandemic started. And now it wasn’t really clear whether she didn’t want to return to Portland mid-crisis or her folks wouldn’t let her. What was clear? I wasn’t getting any, as in fucking zilch. So I decided to use the bounty in my bank account to get me some.

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