our lady of perpetual amazement wrote: > >they wish they had an organ that was >exclusively used for sex.
He adjusts the stops and looks to her over his shoulder again. Will two feet be long enough? Four? No, he thinks. Two eight-footers and a sixteen. Yes. No, still not long enough. If only there was a thirty-two footer.
"Length isn't important," she says from the bed. "It's all about technique."
He picks up the second volume of Bach's Wohltempiert Klavier. It makes for adequate foreplay.
They manufacture her by the dozen and seed her throughout the spring break crowd. Blonde. High school? Probably. Plaid, ruffled bikini top. Frayed denim shorts. Dusting of freckles. Cute. They stamp her out in a mold and release her in quantity. There's one. What's her name? Rebecca, she says. She giggles when you nod knowingly, and her lips wrap around the end of her straw to draw out some more Slurpee. She disappears into the crowd behind you and, five minutes later, she is ahead of you again. The plaid is pink and green this time, not blue and lavender. What's her name? Sandy, she says. She tosses the stray hair from her cheek and catches a bit of cotton candy with the end of her tongue. She's everywhere. They make damn sure of it. Every year's model is better than the last.
Yes, sadly, I am understanding your problem, I see, yes, you too have the problem with No Single Women, everywhere, yes, everywhere I am looking it is the Multiple Women, not Single, they come in threes and fives and sevens, bug-like, hive-like, it is to fear, the Multiple Women, even my Trool Uv, she is Multiple, not Single at all, she is Multiple like the others, so many, so many Multiple Women, I have learned to accept Multiple, not look for Single any more, but perhaps you are not so strong, must continue search for Single, I hope for you, I wish you luck, so few Single Women anymore, good luck. Good luck with the Single Women.
They entwined in the field, hidden by the mist and the dark, stamen pressed to stamen, warm and golden, yes. The doctors came and they said Impossible Incredible This shouldn't be happening in a world of science There were tests And experiments but they fled to a far place and their love grew stronger They mingled in the dirt, as the sunlight engulfed them, leaves smooth over stalks, bright and green, yes. The farmers came and they said Blasphemous Forbidden This cannot be allowed in a world of faith There was fire And sharp blades Which cut them down and ground them up and the land grew richer They mingled in the soil, as the seasons rolled over, with sprouts starting in their remains, and the world full of life, yes.
The worst kind. Little prepubescent bodies filled with candy. Break 'em open and slurp down their immortal juices. Look at the glow!
Never try it again, though. Like fucking a pinata. Never know whether the stuff in the head is sugar-free.
She was willing to let me watch under certain conditions. I gave her my sweet young thing and watched them do battle. It was good. I took copious notes, for next time, if there is one.
But ah, see, this is where I fear the mortal blow was dealt. My little one has always had a weakness for crimson. I will nurse her back to health, but that one has always played for keeps. Sometimes I think she does this to mock me.
Let her; I will always have my memories.
Your grade will be based on the following: 600 points total, of which 150 will come from the five 30-point quizzes; 150 from the final; 100 for the midterm, 100 for the thesis paper, and 100 from in-class participation. For those students who fuck better than they study, these points may be scored in other ways. Manual and oral gratification of the instructor may qualify as a quiz; sleeping with your professor can be used to replace the midterm, thesis, and in-class participation, at the rate of one of the three per such get-together. Students may find that by working together, everyone's grades may be improved. Those of you with some skill in bondage, or the ambition to learn, may elect to skip the final and instead visit the master's dungeon. These are your professor's office hours. One would be wise to heed them.
HER: Artichoke HIM: Heart HER: Tube HIM: Ligation HER: Litigation HIM: Lawyer HER: Demon HIM: Wind HER: Stretch HIM: Pants HER: Gasps HIM: Moans HER: Sex HIM: Sex HER: Sex HIM: Sex
DaleTSmith <**********@aol.com> wrote: >So let me know about your experiences at swinging clubs, or with >alternative sex in general!
Bitch-blood flies, spraypaint from her arteries, underground, this is WAY down there, the babies taste it, they are being trained, let them know from the start, knife, next one, organs, protrusions, removal, incest, twin daughters, guard dog, something buzzing in my ear it seems but really it's the stuff in my blood, don't remember what they called it, hormonal, my girlfriends, both of them dueling, not each other though, that's another time, the redhead has challenged them, take pictures, photo CD, URL's that you will never be given access to, hunt you down and kill you at our next meeting, feed, feed, feed.
>"Look at the rack on that roe!"
The key difference between fish porn and human porn is that in human porn, the money shot is at the end-- the male pulls out at the last second and sprays white milky stuff all over the female, and the camera lingers on the sight of the pearly beads of goo on undulating flesh.
In fishy porn, the money shot comes at the beginning, as the male ejects a cloud of white milky stuff everywhere. Then the female deliberately swims into it and the camera lingers on the sight of thick smears of goo on twitching scales.
All of which means, basically, that fish porn tends to be even shorter in duration than human porn, since there's not much point in continuing past the money shot, is there? Not to mention the fact that the attention span of a fish is barely long enough to achieve arousal and ejaculation, anyway. It's a wonder the little fuckers reproduce at all.
But screw all that. Fish porn is so 80's. Nowadays it's all mantis snuff.
Jennifer Luffman <********@webtv.net> wrote: >The man who goes after my soul and my brain will be the one to win my heart...
The man who goes after your soul is going to be completely disinterested in the meat-package that surrounds it, believe you me, and the man who goes after your brain is just going to be putting it into a cannister for shipment to Yuggoth. Nobody wants your heart except routine serial murders with really pathetic trophy needs.
What it boils down to is the fact that your hot, fuckable, tight, pouty, petite little porn-star bod doesn't mean shit to the people who deal in the real exotic stuff, not even as a brief and meaningless physical distraction while waiting for the Baleful Eye to turn and open, allowing passage beyond the Threshold.
Have a nice day, while it lasts. We're going to be going after your time pretty soon.
So what I want to know is... am I gay?
No, wait, I think maybe you need some more context than that. Okay. So, see, I've been doing a lot of training lately, like crunches and squats and stuff, and it's gotten me in really good shape. I've gotten really limber and stuff. So, see, the other day I was doing my usual routine and I was on the floor bending a bunch and I noticed that if I just bent a little farther, I could, um... Well, see, it was really, er, active at the time and it's been a while since I had a girlfriend. But it was really mostly accidental. I just wanted to see if I could, really, and, well, I could. So, uh, I did. And now I have one of those, what are they called, a dilemma. 'Cause it was, you know, like jerking off, right? And jerking off is totally a guy thing, it's not gay at all. I mean, some guys even jerk off around other guys and still say it's not gay. I don't know that I agree with that, but I don't do that anyway. But I jerk off all the time. It's totally straight. So looking at it that way, I'm totally straight. But, on the other hand, I had a guy's dick in my mouth, and no way is that anything but gay! Totally gay! Sure, it was my own dick, but even so... I mean, I didn't just do it a little bit. By the end, I think I was starting to get pretty good at it, with, like, tongue and stuff, like a total fag would do it. So now I'm all confused about what I should do next. I mean, I'm totally going to do it more, even though it's hell on my abs. But should I also be, like, checking out other guys now and stuff? Maybe even just to exchange tips and suggestions? Or should I just stick with girls but not let them know what I can do? 'Cause they probably wouldn't understand.
Maybe this would be easier to figure out if I put my cheerleader uniform on for a little while. Things always seem a lot simpler when I do that.