Ittestelle
Virgin
- Joined
- Jun 27, 2020
- Posts
- 1
This is a broken ramBing system dump before I give up thinking. I burn everything I write now. Is that terrible? Or should I just shut up?
but I'm less and less allowed to express it. I feel like I'm confessing my sins to to goddless universe. What a waste! I have a lot of very inventive ones. Of which, to follow with my regrets.
I've been tinkering around for too long without getting to saying what I really feel.
Literotica. You gave me so many bad ideas, then the world made them come true. I'm not sure who to blame here but you seem like you were a big part of my life.. I'm not even sure you're the correct shameless provocteur from my degenerate childhood but in leu of some banned places. (Man, on the downlow, was there a place called White Shadows. Man! I do not remember what they had there. But I remember it was awesome! And banned. I miss the ideas they gave me too.
Anyway, I've been told I write really swell, inspite of my inability to actually do so.
I'm off social media and I don't to Reddit. That hurts too near, but I still have ideas. Mostly TERRIBLE. But I think past the drivel there is a few gems.
I'm laying them out there. Ball on table.
What have I got left but everything.
True told, it started with a poem which is my start to everything. But without the into it's without context.
So without further adeu, a poem as sexy as you want it to be. Buried in the material.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Exposititory preamble to a piece.
"What if the book just fell open in your lap?"
Or
Life is a giant bag of sucks that ever sucked a suck.
Ahem. Of course not. Objectively that is bullshit.
So, then. Subjectively-
Today, I did nothing. But whine, get drunk and write poetry while I looked at porn.
As the stoics say:
"What is there in this moment that is so unbearble?" LOL
In truth, it's more like actively trying not to look at things I want to look at like porn and then, getting to the reasons why. Channeling that energy into words of power. Worked forms in frozen motion.
Today is pretty much still a shitty day. For others. Because of tomorrow. This month. This day of this year.
But for me, outside a moment.
'What is there in =this= that is so unbearable?'
Today, my report card says I did everything but just spend it jerking off.
I created bad word instead!!!!
And none of this can really helps me very much, of course. It mostly hurts. But if balanced well against each against other, I now end up nowhere more gracefully.
This is the best I offer society, the sum of my misery. My attempts to wastefully self-induluge my pain away.
I give you my progeny.
To my grief,
But first.
A poem,
for my lady, A. to Z.
-------------------------------------------------
Never to touch.
To dwell in perfect moment for that longing.
Your hair. Your lips. Your ray like skin. Your infinite perfection. And then, only then, to fall into the moment, of our mutual failed objection. Our fall from heavens grace but for one moment in your eyes.
Your eyes.
To scream those dark savage whispers of desire.
That we can't.
We shouldn't be doing this.
It's almost too late. Please don't stop.
I didn't want to.
But neither did you.
Our pact.
Deeper.
Darker.
We plung.
Our dive.
Into that which can't be.
Be.
Maybe.
Our raging lustful summary.
Cresendo climax pleasure sealing breach of destiny.
The breach of forever, no more and never to be.
Never more.
More.
Never will I leave thee.
Words.
Words. Words. Words.
Words are nothing but cords to the music of our desires.
Our thoughts.
Our wants.
Our darkest wishes.
Calling to ignite that heat.
Echoing out. Screaming into you. And maybe into....?
Nothing.
Nothing but the wicked sins I see reflected in your eyes.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Exposititory preamble to a piece.
Part deux.
Additonal explainitore pro-log. (Largely a turd and unnecessary)
The internet's gettiing cleaned up. Good. Bad.
Problem with this> even with the simple small censorship of ideas, everything turns to black.
And once we limit ourselves we can't go back. And once we can't ask +anything+, we will never truly know if we're still free.
"Funny thing, freedom. I don't know what it is but I know the sound it makes when we lose it. "
It sounds like silence.
And we lose our freedom each and everytime when we forget how to explore to fullest right to our own ideas.
All ideas! Ideas of truth. Love. Justice. Beauty. And also our darkest mistakes. Right? Wrong? Tell me what happened!!!! Then, let's decide but only if YOU should choose to SHARE. Alone. Together Let's fight for our right to every inbetween! Starting with who gets to choose.
Instead, maybe let's take a moment to explore old ideas in a new situation from a completely different direction. And me, I like the dirty stuff no one can talk about. I think it's hot. I think it's insanely hot when super women do insanely dirty stuff (generally, while still looking flawlessly perfect!) Might be as close to magic as what passed for reality gets. Breaks in reality. Mind-blowing . POOF! But the best is when it's only because they really, really want it! Uncontrolable desire. That's not repression! That's freedom!!!! And you can't tell me freedom's is any kind of porngraphy! Pornography exists to define our bounds and explores the limits of what's really out there!!!! Out there! In us. What still could happen to those limits. Now. And right now, it looks like those limits are just about in a dark corner. No one puts sexy Baby in corner!!! And bright ideas can turn it around. I had an idea. Want to hear a dirty story? So, what if this book just fell into your lap?
Backstory:
When I was a young internet buck, a book of a Penthouse letters fell into my lap. (That's a lie. I stole it. It was my brothers.) And what fell into my arms was a door to unimagined things until then. Wonderful things of hope and happiness. And moments of wondereous darkness before I understood. A story about a chick bangin; her dog! And I didn't 'steal' that book. I reaquision it for higher purpose, surplus material he was never going to need.
A-hem.
Anyway, me being the dick I am, I stole my brothers dirty book and it gave me bad ideas. Nuf' said. My mistake. Seed planted. Harvist reaped.
Perv.
But since those 'Halcyon days' of innocent perversity, I have seen much but never actually have I gone even remotely gone truly near, any of those I places I can't help revisiting. But I have honestly mostly found most everything I went look for.
Anyway, I was a snoop and a thief, got burned and now live with the scars. And because that book with a story about the bad ideas of how a woman fucked a dog. It really blew my mind. Repeatedly. Just the idea. The possiblity. Still does. To this day. That's what scars do. I live with them.
But by NOT talking about the mistakes, means not wondering if some mistakes are worth-making. Worth for the people who are making us for them.
I don't know all the answers. But we can't stop asking the questons we feel.
So here it is.
A Question. That idea is central to this diabolic little piece of fith that is our real hands 'what is this'?
It the pandora's box. It's the void.
What if?
This, started as a very complicated fantasy that required advanced justication of an exception to a rule. A very big rule. Many big rules all at once.
And It may or may not yet occur. It hasn't happened. It might not happen. Maybe that's good. So....
Who wants to read a dirty story?
Here's a primer to set a mood and direction. I'll let your imagination take it from there.
There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreampt of in your philosophy.
O of forbidden nightmares we may yet redeem pride from our fall. No, never those sins we confess. The innner-most midnight of our shared secret of soul.
We need to confess more wrongs, if we are to make rights.
More painful truths. Not less.
Here's my painful story....
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My ears are still ringing. Not from the slap. I had that coming. It's everything that came after. How quickly it all happened. But I never saw it coming and now I have to live it.
She's everything you'd want a mother to be. She's perfect and refuses to know it. She's an angel. Even if she wasn't my mother, I'd love her. Even, if she is my mother. I still thinks she's amazing.
Me? I try, but I just can't quite not piss everyone around off around me. All the time. I know what's wrong with me. I know the letter the doctors use and the formulas used to treat. My broken label.
It's everything I've done.
"Dax. You need to come into this room right now. I'd like a word with you. And you know why."
I'd had it! Shoot me. Take me now, Jesus! Aliens. Heart-attack. I crosssed the line and now, I was fucked. I had know idea how fucked. But I'd find out in a moment.
Oh, She was pissed. She had reason to be. My fucking bitch cunt of a sister.... Sorry, I have to call her that. That's not only fair, it's required. She was pulling her usual crazy bullshit. And so I pulled the usual mine in return. Out of control. Redline. Max RPM's. Broken glass. Tears. Pain. And words you can never take back. Accidental words, you didn't know the meaning of.
"Oh, fuck you Melony! You're a whore and you're last last one to preach to me. As as for Mom, she can go suck a dogs dick for what it's worth. And for all I care. And that's more than I think of you.
WHOA! Over the fucking line and far past all limits of return.
And you know.... you say things, and you don't attend to what they mean, or what may happen because of something you didn't understand.
And I STILL don't know if I want it to happen. Did that really happen? Did I finally crack, go nuts or have starting dreaming myself into her nightmares.
But I can't stop wanting to do it. Again. And again. And again. We're going to get caught. We going to get into trouble. And it's like we won't be able to stop until we do. Not now. And now, getting caught, I can't see how this can last. Our secret new relationship.
Listen, there is nothing more terrifying in the world then when the sweetest girl you've ever known, instantly turns deadly. From hope to terror and back again, before you know you're broken.
Face rage of a woman; face hell's raw fury.
"Dax. James. In here. NOW."
Yeah, full names.
I accepted my fate and into the lions den, I slunk. I sat on her bed. She stood silouted in the doorway. Resolutely. All lines and curves.
"James...."
She paused.
"...well, now that your here. I'm really not sure how to start..."
"Ma, listen. I know and I'm sor.."
'James. Don't cut me off. Not this time. I usually let you speak your piece but not this time, this time- you'll just listen. And be honest. Answer me directly. None of your cute clever-assed wit. Can you do that, Sweetie? I really need you to do that for me. Ok? "
A broken pause.
"Ok, Mom."
"Is it correct what I think i heard you say today?"
"Mom!"
"James..."
"....Yes. " I mumbled, "Yes, I am and I'm sorry."
"Oh, baby. I know you are! But sometimes, oh my sweet broken baby boy....you always say exactly the wrong thing at the right time."
She crossed the room, drew the curtains on late afternoon, and returned to face my shadow in the darken'd bedroom. With the tigned autumn light streaming in through the cracks...
It was kinda scary. I already was scared! What's the state beyond pure terror? That was there. And now, plunged into darkness. Because, from my way of thinking, my Mom was still going to kill me. She was a secret KGB programmed assassin and I just triggered her 'kill your stupid son' code word. Which I should have never guessed in a million years! Until,quite by accident, I did. For better. Or worse. I still can't deside. I'll let you deside my fate. This is my honest defence of the inexcusable.
It was an accident?
Hey! For me, at this point, I'm still scared she was going to start unrolling a shower-curtain before calmly screwing a silencer into slim gleaming pistol. With a cigarette in her mouth. Yeah, that makes sense. Is it crazy of me to think that? It was. But only slightly less crazy than what happened next.
I thought I was going die. I did die. Everything was about to change.
She turned in the cold dark quiet room toward me.
"And now that you've said it. You can't take it back. So, let me get closer and be more direct. Look me in the eye. And tell me again, what you said about me."
"I said..."it doesn't matter what you care. I know, and other things. I kno...'
"No baby, I don't think you do. But I want to show you. I want to show you. Do you want to see how much I really care?'
She stroked my cheek, barring the full red heat of my shame.
"So, Sonny boy. Tell me again."
She brushed my hair back, grabbed me by the back of the head and breathed closely into my ear..
"Exactly WHAT did you dare say about me, you dirty little boy?
With obeliant hesitatation, I willfully replied.
Hoarsedly whispering,
"you can go suck a dogs dick for all I care."
My eyes blurred. This couldnt be real. My cock was rock hard. I HAD to confessed. Souls truth my answer.
"Well, now do you? Do you really? Do you really want...?"
There had been this hitch in her voice.. Her only crack. A break of emotions in her voice. A pause for her intensity.
Lightning,
Flash.
WHOA THERE!!! Ok, Im glad she's not going to kill me! But why I do have a 9" errection with her name on it? I would have agreed to anything she want! But this floored me.
I gasped like a fish, while frozen like a deer.
She said, "Well, then... since you were honest with me. I want to be honest with you."
She took one of my hands in hers and used the back to caress her face. Then she softly kissed it. A gentle nibble. Her eyes glistened. With joy...with...hope of something....more. She was more beautiful than I could ever have imagined in that moment.
"Oh baby. I miss holding you. Comforting you with my touch. Mommies have needs too. And to be touched and, and your father....Please, baby. I want to ask you another question."
A question, I still didn't expect. And one I'll never fully get my head around.
And you could never have imagined the answer.
----------------------------
Dun-duH-DUHHHHH!!! Well...
What do YOU want it to be?
For only in our fantasies can we ever truly be truly free.
The dreams of yet might come or new news of never will be.
Preview:
"Oh my Gawd Mom! That would be SO hot. Please let me watch. Please, please, please! I can even help. And I swear. I'll never say a word! I can be a good boy for you, I promise! Just please, stay there for me. Please don't stop."
I barely watch porn anymore. I just think about the ones I accidentally deleted and how much I miss them.
Confession: Everytime I see an extraordinarly beautful woman who's inexplicable attracted to me, I just want to fuck the idea right out of her.
but I'm less and less allowed to express it. I feel like I'm confessing my sins to to goddless universe. What a waste! I have a lot of very inventive ones. Of which, to follow with my regrets.
I've been tinkering around for too long without getting to saying what I really feel.
Literotica. You gave me so many bad ideas, then the world made them come true. I'm not sure who to blame here but you seem like you were a big part of my life.. I'm not even sure you're the correct shameless provocteur from my degenerate childhood but in leu of some banned places. (Man, on the downlow, was there a place called White Shadows. Man! I do not remember what they had there. But I remember it was awesome! And banned. I miss the ideas they gave me too.
Anyway, I've been told I write really swell, inspite of my inability to actually do so.
I'm off social media and I don't to Reddit. That hurts too near, but I still have ideas. Mostly TERRIBLE. But I think past the drivel there is a few gems.
I'm laying them out there. Ball on table.
What have I got left but everything.
True told, it started with a poem which is my start to everything. But without the into it's without context.
So without further adeu, a poem as sexy as you want it to be. Buried in the material.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Exposititory preamble to a piece.
"What if the book just fell open in your lap?"
Or
Life is a giant bag of sucks that ever sucked a suck.
Ahem. Of course not. Objectively that is bullshit.
So, then. Subjectively-
Today, I did nothing. But whine, get drunk and write poetry while I looked at porn.
As the stoics say:
"What is there in this moment that is so unbearble?" LOL
In truth, it's more like actively trying not to look at things I want to look at like porn and then, getting to the reasons why. Channeling that energy into words of power. Worked forms in frozen motion.
Today is pretty much still a shitty day. For others. Because of tomorrow. This month. This day of this year.
But for me, outside a moment.
'What is there in =this= that is so unbearable?'
Today, my report card says I did everything but just spend it jerking off.
I created bad word instead!!!!
And none of this can really helps me very much, of course. It mostly hurts. But if balanced well against each against other, I now end up nowhere more gracefully.
This is the best I offer society, the sum of my misery. My attempts to wastefully self-induluge my pain away.
I give you my progeny.
To my grief,
But first.
A poem,
for my lady, A. to Z.
-------------------------------------------------
Never to touch.
To dwell in perfect moment for that longing.
Your hair. Your lips. Your ray like skin. Your infinite perfection. And then, only then, to fall into the moment, of our mutual failed objection. Our fall from heavens grace but for one moment in your eyes.
Your eyes.
To scream those dark savage whispers of desire.
That we can't.
We shouldn't be doing this.
It's almost too late. Please don't stop.
I didn't want to.
But neither did you.
Our pact.
Deeper.
Darker.
We plung.
Our dive.
Into that which can't be.
Be.
Maybe.
Our raging lustful summary.
Cresendo climax pleasure sealing breach of destiny.
The breach of forever, no more and never to be.
Never more.
More.
Never will I leave thee.
Words.
Words. Words. Words.
Words are nothing but cords to the music of our desires.
Our thoughts.
Our wants.
Our darkest wishes.
Calling to ignite that heat.
Echoing out. Screaming into you. And maybe into....?
Nothing.
Nothing but the wicked sins I see reflected in your eyes.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Exposititory preamble to a piece.
Part deux.
Additonal explainitore pro-log. (Largely a turd and unnecessary)
The internet's gettiing cleaned up. Good. Bad.
Problem with this> even with the simple small censorship of ideas, everything turns to black.
And once we limit ourselves we can't go back. And once we can't ask +anything+, we will never truly know if we're still free.
"Funny thing, freedom. I don't know what it is but I know the sound it makes when we lose it. "
It sounds like silence.
And we lose our freedom each and everytime when we forget how to explore to fullest right to our own ideas.
All ideas! Ideas of truth. Love. Justice. Beauty. And also our darkest mistakes. Right? Wrong? Tell me what happened!!!! Then, let's decide but only if YOU should choose to SHARE. Alone. Together Let's fight for our right to every inbetween! Starting with who gets to choose.
Instead, maybe let's take a moment to explore old ideas in a new situation from a completely different direction. And me, I like the dirty stuff no one can talk about. I think it's hot. I think it's insanely hot when super women do insanely dirty stuff (generally, while still looking flawlessly perfect!) Might be as close to magic as what passed for reality gets. Breaks in reality. Mind-blowing . POOF! But the best is when it's only because they really, really want it! Uncontrolable desire. That's not repression! That's freedom!!!! And you can't tell me freedom's is any kind of porngraphy! Pornography exists to define our bounds and explores the limits of what's really out there!!!! Out there! In us. What still could happen to those limits. Now. And right now, it looks like those limits are just about in a dark corner. No one puts sexy Baby in corner!!! And bright ideas can turn it around. I had an idea. Want to hear a dirty story? So, what if this book just fell into your lap?
Backstory:
When I was a young internet buck, a book of a Penthouse letters fell into my lap. (That's a lie. I stole it. It was my brothers.) And what fell into my arms was a door to unimagined things until then. Wonderful things of hope and happiness. And moments of wondereous darkness before I understood. A story about a chick bangin; her dog! And I didn't 'steal' that book. I reaquision it for higher purpose, surplus material he was never going to need.
A-hem.
Anyway, me being the dick I am, I stole my brothers dirty book and it gave me bad ideas. Nuf' said. My mistake. Seed planted. Harvist reaped.
Perv.
But since those 'Halcyon days' of innocent perversity, I have seen much but never actually have I gone even remotely gone truly near, any of those I places I can't help revisiting. But I have honestly mostly found most everything I went look for.
Anyway, I was a snoop and a thief, got burned and now live with the scars. And because that book with a story about the bad ideas of how a woman fucked a dog. It really blew my mind. Repeatedly. Just the idea. The possiblity. Still does. To this day. That's what scars do. I live with them.
But by NOT talking about the mistakes, means not wondering if some mistakes are worth-making. Worth for the people who are making us for them.
I don't know all the answers. But we can't stop asking the questons we feel.
So here it is.
A Question. That idea is central to this diabolic little piece of fith that is our real hands 'what is this'?
It the pandora's box. It's the void.
What if?
This, started as a very complicated fantasy that required advanced justication of an exception to a rule. A very big rule. Many big rules all at once.
And It may or may not yet occur. It hasn't happened. It might not happen. Maybe that's good. So....
Who wants to read a dirty story?
Here's a primer to set a mood and direction. I'll let your imagination take it from there.
There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreampt of in your philosophy.
O of forbidden nightmares we may yet redeem pride from our fall. No, never those sins we confess. The innner-most midnight of our shared secret of soul.
We need to confess more wrongs, if we are to make rights.
More painful truths. Not less.
Here's my painful story....
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My ears are still ringing. Not from the slap. I had that coming. It's everything that came after. How quickly it all happened. But I never saw it coming and now I have to live it.
She's everything you'd want a mother to be. She's perfect and refuses to know it. She's an angel. Even if she wasn't my mother, I'd love her. Even, if she is my mother. I still thinks she's amazing.
Me? I try, but I just can't quite not piss everyone around off around me. All the time. I know what's wrong with me. I know the letter the doctors use and the formulas used to treat. My broken label.
It's everything I've done.
"Dax. You need to come into this room right now. I'd like a word with you. And you know why."
I'd had it! Shoot me. Take me now, Jesus! Aliens. Heart-attack. I crosssed the line and now, I was fucked. I had know idea how fucked. But I'd find out in a moment.
Oh, She was pissed. She had reason to be. My fucking bitch cunt of a sister.... Sorry, I have to call her that. That's not only fair, it's required. She was pulling her usual crazy bullshit. And so I pulled the usual mine in return. Out of control. Redline. Max RPM's. Broken glass. Tears. Pain. And words you can never take back. Accidental words, you didn't know the meaning of.
"Oh, fuck you Melony! You're a whore and you're last last one to preach to me. As as for Mom, she can go suck a dogs dick for what it's worth. And for all I care. And that's more than I think of you.
WHOA! Over the fucking line and far past all limits of return.
And you know.... you say things, and you don't attend to what they mean, or what may happen because of something you didn't understand.
And I STILL don't know if I want it to happen. Did that really happen? Did I finally crack, go nuts or have starting dreaming myself into her nightmares.
But I can't stop wanting to do it. Again. And again. And again. We're going to get caught. We going to get into trouble. And it's like we won't be able to stop until we do. Not now. And now, getting caught, I can't see how this can last. Our secret new relationship.
Listen, there is nothing more terrifying in the world then when the sweetest girl you've ever known, instantly turns deadly. From hope to terror and back again, before you know you're broken.
Face rage of a woman; face hell's raw fury.
"Dax. James. In here. NOW."
Yeah, full names.
I accepted my fate and into the lions den, I slunk. I sat on her bed. She stood silouted in the doorway. Resolutely. All lines and curves.
"James...."
She paused.
"...well, now that your here. I'm really not sure how to start..."
"Ma, listen. I know and I'm sor.."
'James. Don't cut me off. Not this time. I usually let you speak your piece but not this time, this time- you'll just listen. And be honest. Answer me directly. None of your cute clever-assed wit. Can you do that, Sweetie? I really need you to do that for me. Ok? "
A broken pause.
"Ok, Mom."
"Is it correct what I think i heard you say today?"
"Mom!"
"James..."
"....Yes. " I mumbled, "Yes, I am and I'm sorry."
"Oh, baby. I know you are! But sometimes, oh my sweet broken baby boy....you always say exactly the wrong thing at the right time."
She crossed the room, drew the curtains on late afternoon, and returned to face my shadow in the darken'd bedroom. With the tigned autumn light streaming in through the cracks...
It was kinda scary. I already was scared! What's the state beyond pure terror? That was there. And now, plunged into darkness. Because, from my way of thinking, my Mom was still going to kill me. She was a secret KGB programmed assassin and I just triggered her 'kill your stupid son' code word. Which I should have never guessed in a million years! Until,quite by accident, I did. For better. Or worse. I still can't deside. I'll let you deside my fate. This is my honest defence of the inexcusable.
It was an accident?
Hey! For me, at this point, I'm still scared she was going to start unrolling a shower-curtain before calmly screwing a silencer into slim gleaming pistol. With a cigarette in her mouth. Yeah, that makes sense. Is it crazy of me to think that? It was. But only slightly less crazy than what happened next.
I thought I was going die. I did die. Everything was about to change.
She turned in the cold dark quiet room toward me.
"And now that you've said it. You can't take it back. So, let me get closer and be more direct. Look me in the eye. And tell me again, what you said about me."
"I said..."it doesn't matter what you care. I know, and other things. I kno...'
"No baby, I don't think you do. But I want to show you. I want to show you. Do you want to see how much I really care?'
She stroked my cheek, barring the full red heat of my shame.
"So, Sonny boy. Tell me again."
She brushed my hair back, grabbed me by the back of the head and breathed closely into my ear..
"Exactly WHAT did you dare say about me, you dirty little boy?
With obeliant hesitatation, I willfully replied.
Hoarsedly whispering,
"you can go suck a dogs dick for all I care."
My eyes blurred. This couldnt be real. My cock was rock hard. I HAD to confessed. Souls truth my answer.
"Well, now do you? Do you really? Do you really want...?"
There had been this hitch in her voice.. Her only crack. A break of emotions in her voice. A pause for her intensity.
Lightning,
Flash.
WHOA THERE!!! Ok, Im glad she's not going to kill me! But why I do have a 9" errection with her name on it? I would have agreed to anything she want! But this floored me.
I gasped like a fish, while frozen like a deer.
She said, "Well, then... since you were honest with me. I want to be honest with you."
She took one of my hands in hers and used the back to caress her face. Then she softly kissed it. A gentle nibble. Her eyes glistened. With joy...with...hope of something....more. She was more beautiful than I could ever have imagined in that moment.
"Oh baby. I miss holding you. Comforting you with my touch. Mommies have needs too. And to be touched and, and your father....Please, baby. I want to ask you another question."
A question, I still didn't expect. And one I'll never fully get my head around.
And you could never have imagined the answer.
----------------------------
Dun-duH-DUHHHHH!!! Well...
What do YOU want it to be?
For only in our fantasies can we ever truly be truly free.
The dreams of yet might come or new news of never will be.
Preview:
"Oh my Gawd Mom! That would be SO hot. Please let me watch. Please, please, please! I can even help. And I swear. I'll never say a word! I can be a good boy for you, I promise! Just please, stay there for me. Please don't stop."
I barely watch porn anymore. I just think about the ones I accidentally deleted and how much I miss them.
Confession: Everytime I see an extraordinarly beautful woman who's inexplicable attracted to me, I just want to fuck the idea right out of her.
