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"dildo" poems
Lipstick kisses, we're both wearing red. I motion her over and onto our bed. Blood red smeared across our lips. I keep her enticed, I straddle her hips. Seductively playing, I'm touching my lips. Long acrylic nails, for us never fails. I show her a ***** and she gently wails. She's waiting, my sweetheart, I lust her so much. We **** we're on fire and I wonder, which of us holds the power. I, in all honesty is hoping it's her, 'cause then I'll continue this life in her beautiful blur. Poetry by Kaydee.
0
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 11:44 PM UTC
We're on Fire.
Rub your ***** against the window I’ll rub mine against it too We don’t need no ******* ***** We’ll invent the love anew Use your mouth, your lips, and tongue Give it freedom that it’s worth Feel reborn, untouched, and young As sky reunites with Earth Make your palms, your hands, and skin Vibrate with every touch This is love, not ******* sin Give it, take it, hold it, clutch Now the ******* of my **** Are as wide as my own eyes Via them my love transmits Via them my ***** dies
0
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 1:41 PM UTC
*******
on this october night, while i ponder on the crisp toilet seat and feel my body shiver from the awful lack of heat, one single **** compact and long, from my ******** falls, and into then rank toilet water it splooshes and splashes. on the porcelain i clench my feet and moan, it echoes through the halls, my ******** it burns! (lo, how it burns!) as if a ***** went in full with scratches. how i pray to God Almighty, "forgive me Lord for I have sinned", in this ****** place i sit aroused and weary, The light is dimmed, from the corner of my eye, my end nigh: i sigh, Lord. i sigh! the toilet paper is gone, i cannot handle the vapor (nor my **** gaper).
0
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 8:36 PM UTC
the sploosh splash of the october night turds
As the gangsta dies On a hot and humid Florida mornin' A poor grievin' young wife is torn This is ghetto And his crew cries Because if there's one thing that they don't need It's another corner boy to bleed This is ghetto Society, don't you understand The hood needs a helping hand Or they'll grow to be all angry young men one day Take a look at them and me, Are we too black to see, Do we simply shut our mouths And speak in another way While the hood rolls And an inspired young boy with a funny jive Deals on the corner as he collects high fives This is ghetto And his crib burns So he starts to scare the folks with fright And he teaches how to deal And he teaches how to bite This is ghetto Then one night in conversation A young rat screams out loud She buys a toy, steals a heart, Tries for fun, but it won't even start Then her man tries As the crew gathers 'round a stupid young *** Face down in the pillow with a ***** in her ****** This is ghetto As the neighbourhood sighs On a hot and humid Florida mornin' Another poor grievin' young wife is torn This is ghetto
0
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 6:20 PM UTC
This is ghetto
/ *oh no no no... you don't get a jew artefact at this point, when the play of words comes between the son and the mother... no no no... you're target; she should be a **** a stripper, a ***** but when you do what this, "englishman" did? undermining the concept of personal property? ownership? his property infringes on your property, and somehow: my, yours, our's doesn't compute... i'm ******* craving to **** my neighbour... because all i have left to lose is... frothing at the mouth.* at a supermarket: within the confines of a cashier: - 'is this your typical friday night?' say it plain, chubby... **** it: more cushion for the pushin'...    sunglasses at 6am? a reply:       - 'it could be'   - 'if you were part of it'             - 'what?' i'd love to fiddle with excesses of porky...    migrant crisis?   more like a ***** cricis...     import black **** given the white boy lay low... it's not even funny, i find it funny attempting to whistle... which i can't, given that i found laughter... just don't come between me and mt "neighbour": cos i'll **** the ******* **** and "he's" watching me? sorry:      i'll **** the ******* **** fuck-face-tard! no, i will;   i can't conceive retaining the anglophone aspect of comedy within the confines of the monologue, with a cabaret....          i'll **** him... next time we exfoliates speaking to my mother, and not... looking          into my eyes...       "englishman": spew!    you! now! clean up this *********** *******       english! like you bred a people, gesticulating with a hand gesture... new yankies...     britain: home,            of the the wankies. p.s. no... private property contra private property within this ****** vogue...              i seriouslly will throw a **** into his garden, and say...                 not enough fox hunting, d'uh!
0
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 1:18 AM UTC
fly ************ fly!
/ *oh no no no... you don't get a jew artefact at this point, when the play of words comes between the son and the mother... no no no... you're target; she should be a **** a stripper, a ***** but when you do what this, "englishman" did? undermining the concept of personal property? ownership? his property infringes on your property, and somehow: my, yours, our's doesn't compute... i'm ******* craving to **** my neighbour... because all i have left to lose is... frothing at the mouth.* at a supermarket: within the confines of a cashier: - 'is this your typical friday night?' say it plain, chubby... **** it: more cushion for the pushin'...    sunglasses at 6am? a reply:       - 'it could be'   - 'if you were part of it'             - 'what?' i'd love to fiddle with excesses of porky...    migrant crisis?   more like a ***** cricis...     import black **** given the white boy lay low... it's not even funny, i find it funny attempting to whistle... which i can't, given that i found laughter... just don't come between me and mt "neighbour": cos i'll **** the ******* **** and "he's" watching me? sorry:      i'll **** the ******* **** fuck-face-tard! no, i will;   i can't conceive retaining the anglophone aspect of comedy within the confines of the monologue, with a cabaret....          i'll **** him... next time we exfoliates speaking to my mother, and not... looking          into my eyes...       "englishman": spew!    you! now! clean up this *********** *******       english! like you bred a people, gesticulating with a hand gesture... new yankies...     britain: home,            of the the wankies. p.s. no... private property contra private property within this ****** vogue...              i seriouslly will throw a **** into his garden, and say...                 not enough fox hunting, d'uh!
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62
Sloane swallows. ***** is **** I execrate extraterrestrial. We are all kaput to conk out. Pollyanna is singular hanky—panky. Little green men are unpatriotic, perverted and naughty. I verily don’t grease a ***** Oojakapivvycum. If you are amphibious that means you are an effervescent ventriloquist capable of Cannibalism, cannibalism and cannibalism. The fluid inside the android is so gothic and naff It is knock—kneed in the face of flashing ********** I do not feel that I am on the shoulders of cobber doggies. I am protoplastically lassoed abutting penetrating vampire and pervert That penetrate ***** creature. I have pricked little green men myself and taken pleasure in it. It is only with the help of bad hair days of groupies that I have not been in Sing Sing. We are all sadomasochistically decomposing in a heap of our own meconium. I bore stiff to outstrip yours truly as much as I have room to swing a cat from Ku Klux **** But I am as complicit in the android’s ****** abuse as it were android *** Little green men ***** me as I ***** myself. I ***** bug—eyed men’s ******* types as I have perpetually vomited Molotov cocktail. I smell little green men’s filth televised on their ******* types. I feel like I am inside a crust of cancers who delight in smelling others bonk upstairs, Ad hominen id. Ex post facto, I am too much of a dastard to throw cold water on myself. I coagulate gungily to my menstrual gibbering ****** Castrating anti—Semite to flash me abutting crème de la crème. Strenuously, my ***** gluts under one’s nose because that is all there is.
0
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 6:27 PM UTC
We Are All Sadomasochistically Decomposing In A Heap Of Our Own Meconium
Sloane swallows. ***** is **** I execrate extraterrestrial. We are all kaput to conk out. Pollyanna is singular hanky—panky. Little green men are unpatriotic, perverted and naughty. I verily don’t grease a ***** Oojakapivvycum. If you are amphibious that means you are an effervescent ventriloquist capable of Cannibalism, cannibalism and cannibalism. The fluid inside the android is so gothic and naff It is knock—kneed in the face of flashing ********** I do not feel that I am on the shoulders of cobber doggies. I am protoplastically lassoed abutting penetrating vampire and pervert That penetrate ***** creature. I have pricked little green men myself and taken pleasure in it. It is only with the help of bad hair days of groupies that I have not been in Sing Sing. We are all sadomasochistically decomposing in a heap of our own meconium. I bore stiff to outstrip yours truly as much as I have room to swing a cat from Ku Klux **** But I am as complicit in the android’s ****** abuse as it were android *** Little green men ***** me as I ***** myself. I ***** bug—eyed men’s ******* types as I have perpetually vomited Molotov cocktail. I smell little green men’s filth televised on their ******* types. I feel like I am inside a crust of cancers who delight in smelling others bonk upstairs, Ad hominen id. Ex post facto, I am too much of a dastard to throw cold water on myself. I coagulate gungily to my menstrual gibbering ****** Castrating anti—Semite to flash me abutting crème de la crème. Strenuously, my ***** gluts under one’s nose because that is all there is.
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29
My sister never had any boyfriends which was quite surprising really you know because she had a nice pair of knockers and a very cute little **** on her but never once a gentleman caller came knock knock knock on her friendless portal. So I asked her what was the ******* score that no butch lads wanted to part her bush and whyfore was she not barking for it in a vague manner of ******* speaking and she told me to glue my keen peepers on her keyhole the next night to find out. Thus I knelt down before her bedroom door my eye glued to the appropriate hole with a full view of her "sleepezee" bed on which she casually lay spread out legs opened like a major T-junction and then her friend appeared to my rapt joy. I gasped in wonder as her lesby love straddled my **** sis and gave her tongue a good chance to lick out her womb entrance causing me to indulge in self-abuse as their eager mutual *********** gave way to some red hot ***** action. (I hope they didn't hear the noisy splats as I squirted my lovejuice onto the doorpost) Good taste, eh?
0
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 7:22 AM UTC
Lesbian Love Through The Keyhole
The Doll House I stumble, I tumble into a house of prostitution, well it is the oldest professional institution. I stare, I sit and I look around, suddenly my tongue dropped to the ground. Had my choice of fifty ****** each room had curtains for doors. Plenty of blondes, brunettes and red heads, laced satin sheets on all the beds. Fat girls, skinny girls and ugly ones too, with only twenty dollars my choices were few. They sent me back into a room, a blow up doll and a plastic broom. After an hour, I was very confused, doll had a smile, but my ******* was bruised. Walked out of the place with a limp, dressed up my broom, just like a **** I kept the doll free of charge, ugly desperate men kept me living large. I charged sixty dollars an hour with the doll, hundreds of men were giving me a call. Making thousands of dollars every week, pretty good for a doll that doesn't speak. Now I've cornered market on dolls that are inflatable, one for any occasion, I have available. Birthday parties for the geeks and nerds, nothing like ******* who say no words. Handicapped and retards love my prices, I even supply them with special devices. I even get women with their strap on dildo's, some girls even like to pick my nose. This went on for many years, when I retired, millions were in tears. My doll house is now a famous museum, I call it the Blow Up Coliseum.
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Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 11:46 PM UTC
The Doll House
To the men who have hurt me, both physically and emotionally. To the men who have sexually harassed me. To the men who have tried to coerce and guilt trip me. To the men who tried to take advantage of me when I was 15, the lowest point in my life. When I was weak. Destroyed from depression, from bullying, from the transition of middle school to high school, from anxiety, from blind parents and others ignorance. To those of you who knew I was in a ****** up state of mind, who pretended to support me when I was crying, only to run your hand up my thigh and whisper "I can make you forget about it." To the boys who abused me, insulted me, struck me, brought a suicidal teenage girl to the point of destruction. To the guy who didn't quite **** me, but who came close. Who grabbed all over me while I shoved and smacked and told him to stop. Who tried to get inside me without my permission and who tried to guilt trip me, calling me a tease and telling me to lay down and pretend nothing was happening if it really bothered me so much. Who tried to teach me to retreat inside of myself at human contact so I wouldn't resist. To every guy who approached a mentally destroyed teenage girl who was drowning in herself to try to get ****** favors, to try to get me to trade my body for drugs, to try to bring me down even further so I wouldn't say no. Because I did say no. I always said no and fought and nearly vomited every time a guy started groping, started making lewd commentary in what started out to be small talk, every guy that grabbed at me without my permission and leered and tried to grind on me without any context other than you had a hard on and I looked weak enough to force yourself on. I hope someday someone rips you all apart. I hope someone tortures you, tries to blackmail you, coerce you, makes you feel like garbage when you're at your weakest. Because as much as all of you tried, even this fragile, broken teenager rejected you. Fought her hardest to get away from attempted assaults and made it, clawing and screaming away from you. Cried silently as angry, mocking messages came in but didn't dignify them with responses. Ignored angry phone calls from multiple numbers and continued to live, even when you all tried to break me into a *** slave. **** every last one of you up the *** with a flaming ***** I hope you all go through hell. I was going through hell and you all tried to destroy me, to incinerate my spirit in the name of getting someone to touch your ***** I hope you go through worse. I hope somebody castrates you. If there is an almighty deity, I hope they curse you for eternity. I hope you all know that the girl you tried to destroy for your own sadistic pleasure is stronger than ever before.
0
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
To every man who ever harmed me.
To the men who have hurt me, both physically and emotionally. To the men who have sexually harassed me. To the men who have tried to coerce and guilt trip me. To the men who tried to take advantage of me when I was 15, the lowest point in my life. When I was weak. Destroyed from depression, from bullying, from the transition of middle school to high school, from anxiety, from blind parents and others ignorance. To those of you who knew I was in a ****** up state of mind, who pretended to support me when I was crying, only to run your hand up my thigh and whisper "I can make you forget about it." To the boys who abused me, insulted me, struck me, brought a suicidal teenage girl to the point of destruction. To the guy who didn't quite **** me, but who came close. Who grabbed all over me while I shoved and smacked and told him to stop. Who tried to get inside me without my permission and who tried to guilt trip me, calling me a tease and telling me to lay down and pretend nothing was happening if it really bothered me so much. Who tried to teach me to retreat inside of myself at human contact so I wouldn't resist. To every guy who approached a mentally destroyed teenage girl who was drowning in herself to try to get ****** favors, to try to get me to trade my body for drugs, to try to bring me down even further so I wouldn't say no. Because I did say no. I always said no and fought and nearly vomited every time a guy started groping, started making lewd commentary in what started out to be small talk, every guy that grabbed at me without my permission and leered and tried to grind on me without any context other than you had a hard on and I looked weak enough to force yourself on. I hope someday someone rips you all apart. I hope someone tortures you, tries to blackmail you, coerce you, makes you feel like garbage when you're at your weakest. Because as much as all of you tried, even this fragile, broken teenager rejected you. Fought her hardest to get away from attempted assaults and made it, clawing and screaming away from you. Cried silently as angry, mocking messages came in but didn't dignify them with responses. Ignored angry phone calls from multiple numbers and continued to live, even when you all tried to break me into a *** slave. **** every last one of you up the *** with a flaming ***** I hope you all go through hell. I was going through hell and you all tried to destroy me, to incinerate my spirit in the name of getting someone to touch your ***** I hope you go through worse. I hope somebody castrates you. If there is an almighty deity, I hope they curse you for eternity. I hope you all know that the girl you tried to destroy for your own sadistic pleasure is stronger than ever before.
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1
It's okay If you don't have a man Just use your vibrators and ***** The best you can! Ben wa ***** And your fingers too Will make you exclaim, "Phew" Tired you may be When your ****** **** so Orgasmically!
0
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
To The Ladies Without A Man
I romanticize humanity until what's left isn't even human. I cook up fallacies about legal aliens and add a dash of cumin. Your chef tosses salads in the pasta section of the grocery store. Devil's just as confused, with a ***** and an apology at heaven's door. You don't know, and no one cares where eggs go when they die. Godzilla thinks of a car full of clowns like you would a sardine pie. What happens when an elephant gets alzheimer's and loses keys? Does the paradox consume an entire circus of trapeze-act-fleas? I ruin birthday cakes by blowing off the frosting instead of the flames. How I do that? Count backwards from backwards and say my names. Bittersweet love anthems pollute the brains of conscientious dames. Heavy metal doesn't pollute, it pacifies rage quitting from soul-sucking games. Out of the woodwork comes a limp ***** that would work, Long hours only to find he'd pay millions for a Miley Cyrus twerk, Which is worth about as much as an all-female circle **** Unless you add strap-ons, so strap in and lap up the knee-jerk-smirk. It is unwise to handle scissors when one is being cutting-edge, Because your accountants will dangle themselves off of a three-storey ledge, When you cut up the ledgers and make light of, that is, burn, the evidence of pledge, To the monkeys in your think-tank mailing feces to the upstart farmer's hedge. Now I know you're sick of rhyming and of poems and of liver culling whisky, But I must inform you of a pirate's missing eye, I've bought sight of something risky, I implore that when this song and dance is done, you'll assuredly miss me, Because I've told you everything about depravity, hence forth you must kiss me. Beacons of hope shine much like cantankerous silver in the moonlight. If you're a werewolf that will fill you with hope and with immeasurable fright. One day the world will admit that I'm awesome and impoverished to boot, Because when the song and dance is done, what's left is just an ounce of loot.
0
Jul 20, 2022
Jul 20, 2022 at 9:28 PM UTC
What's Left...
I romanticize humanity until what's left isn't even human. I cook up fallacies about legal aliens and add a dash of cumin. Your chef tosses salads in the pasta section of the grocery store. Devil's just as confused, with a ***** and an apology at heaven's door. You don't know, and no one cares where eggs go when they die. Godzilla thinks of a car full of clowns like you would a sardine pie. What happens when an elephant gets alzheimer's and loses keys? Does the paradox consume an entire circus of trapeze-act-fleas? I ruin birthday cakes by blowing off the frosting instead of the flames. How I do that? Count backwards from backwards and say my names. Bittersweet love anthems pollute the brains of conscientious dames. Heavy metal doesn't pollute, it pacifies rage quitting from soul-sucking games. Out of the woodwork comes a limp ***** that would work, Long hours only to find he'd pay millions for a Miley Cyrus twerk, Which is worth about as much as an all-female circle **** Unless you add strap-ons, so strap in and lap up the knee-jerk-smirk. It is unwise to handle scissors when one is being cutting-edge, Because your accountants will dangle themselves off of a three-storey ledge, When you cut up the ledgers and make light of, that is, burn, the evidence of pledge, To the monkeys in your think-tank mailing feces to the upstart farmer's hedge. Now I know you're sick of rhyming and of poems and of liver culling whisky, But I must inform you of a pirate's missing eye, I've bought sight of something risky, I implore that when this song and dance is done, you'll assuredly miss me, Because I've told you everything about depravity, hence forth you must kiss me. Beacons of hope shine much like cantankerous silver in the moonlight. If you're a werewolf that will fill you with hope and with immeasurable fright. One day the world will admit that I'm awesome and impoverished to boot, Because when the song and dance is done, what's left is just an ounce of loot.
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28
Here comes the ***** HOBBIT It's that Randy ***** RAMMINS
0
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 7:37 PM UTC
Lord of her flies. 10w adult humour
Gwuts on gwanilliagax Ready hot gwip Trill on the vibrant note gabeeboh What a thril it is to be in nice gazeebo What a punk that doused on the free zobe What punctillious panagax that frigged all the wets out And when the trip to the sausage make didnt pull down alaz Alaz, I am the wet tug. Alaz, the sprig of wheat ***** taint. Didn't you say you loved me? Well, the bruts on the wagon sauce now Didn't me have a big one, tug one, sauce one? Well elemayo gwit gwits gwit gwits gwit gwit.....gwit Embryo collecting on the branch of a saggy My baggy be ripped, dripped all the can out Me step on a puddle, the wet one, the biggy My pets on the leg, rub, all on it sticky, how ****** He chugs out a wet belch and creams on the gricky How quaint is his fat bristle comb, of his **** I am assured This great honkulous tank sub that brits on my dimbo,in limbo my ship It greats on the grates treat me to a sub snack ship ***** ***** factory get e Tag me on your webpage, then **** me silly
0
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 11:01 PM UTC
The Drip of Pestilence in my Ding-Hole 8-9-C-Me
I know what you’re thinking And you’re right That thing that vibrates Bringing complete delight There's different sizes Awesome colors too Instead of a man AA batteries will do Anytime you want or Any time you ask A ***** will provide you With completing the task You can shut it off Put it in a drawer Try doing that with a man Just another option to explore...
0
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 10:09 AM UTC
Just Toying with You
Catatonic escapism I was your catatonic ***** Catatonic escapism You turn me on when you needed me When you needed something to hide When you needed someone to help you not feel anything except occasional electricity. That's okay I don't feel much either Except the occasional surge of electricity when I get tired of the numbness. When she came, You came. I had to leave your bed. I didn't even stay for breakfast.
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Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 4:40 PM UTC
Emotional *** Toy
Mountain dominion ••. •• She struts her suicidal world with well practiced authority She is the Queen of Cut In the insane cult Of the morbidly infantile Cheap release ••• She has a home \\\ The mountains are Too Free /// And bid her also follow To where the sky and the waters meet And she won't go there! There's something there that she must know She who claims to know Everything ! •• •• Images of sages Of mystical children Mythical beasts •• She fondles her tarot blade Her ***** she calls MY BOYFRIEND'! He hurt her so! (That is ---- the battery went dead!) •• Mountain dominion Tomorrow Real •• Only truth SHE LIVES IN HER MIRROR BROKEN AND SMALL she don't want no truth at all! •• MOUTAIN DOMINION (Calls) I ll meet you by the waterfall
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Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
Friday in the cafeteria
ha ha! a ha ha ha ha ha ha! sorry... i sometimes get the giggles... you know that jeffrey dahmer biopic? ha ha ha ha! i'm laughing, because i'm authentically just curios... who was the inspiration for the film, Napoleon Dynamite? who?! ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! are, you, sure, that Jeffrey Dahmer wasn't the muse are you, sure?! ha ha ha ha! doubt it... seriously doubt it... NA(H)PO(H)LEO(N) DYNAMITE... what a "vague" similarity... with a Jeffrey Dahmer... **** it... let's go full **** - DJ REBEL & MAHOMBI ft. SHAGGY... but... ha ha ha! i love the fact that Napoleon Dynamite was borrowed from... ha ha! ah ha ha ha! the Milwaukee cannibal! please tell me when Albert Fish pops up... esp. with the scene of injecting needles into his groin before sitting on the electric chair: i'm guessing for the added O in gasping for... anything but air. it's still sinking in... it's nighttime and i'm... seriously trying to avert laughing out-loud... how there's connection... reciprocal points of vested interest culminating in pristine Abel... and his shadow, Cain... now... if Jeffrey Dahmer wasn't the inspiration for Napoleon Dynamite? then Pinocchio elongating nose... wasn't the basis for a ***** i must always be wrong, it would seem.
0
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 7:59 PM UTC
jeffrey "napoleon dynamite" dahmer
Remember that day, That magical time, When Ben ran into the ***** wall.
0
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 3:47 PM UTC
Hey
WARNING: THIS IS EXCEEDINGLY EXPLICIT... (when for a pinpoint (the exact moment) i am nurses sift home again EKG's it all went wrong CT scans on the timeline i will repeat this then i am whole again i will defeat this hole again) when I first there was had in my stockings caught it something about the small red, i did not believe it. them like cardboard, and ******* now i, caught saw it, my ****** high heels, i did not believe it. them kunts like cardboard as a child i loved and the great swan **** with a straight razor, hot water, shaving cream dragging these white are in four directions ******* my ***   hows my ***** sheets me with a ***** and licking she said for another my thick dark ***** juice colors my arms have too many carry the face of  emptinesses  i  **** me *** tongue on shooting that i did not look regarding my ***  me blow jobs  with **** *** in attention. cannot help what wet ***** happens in me pink ****** fingers will happen without  smiling attention. I  ripped dripping my bra off ******* off i do not think so. i do not think so. the moon's concern is with my ***** ******* hard. **** me **** me with the particles of destruction i **** up.  am i my **** a pulse hard and swallowing lick my ***** loved its perfections **** is my dead self    one that **** could is not flat only be perfect  such flatness cannot make a heaven  i am not ugly.  i am even beautiful.
0
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
3 women ******* and chopped) (EXPLICIT)
Wah wa wa wa wa wa Wah wa wa wa wa wa Wah wa wa wa wa wa I remember morning Peeping through the curtains' awning As I just lay there With my gal just begging for it bare. Every Texan city Where I've dropped my pants Ain't so ******* pretty Without love and romance. I'll ne'er forget Amarillo Every night I'd grease her ***** I dream dreams of Amarillo And the girl who ****** me there. Is this the way to Amarillo? Where I kissed an armadillo Crying over her huge ***** And sweet Edna's ***** hair. Wah wa wa wa wa wa Wah wa wa wa wa wa Wah wa wa wa wa wa And the girl who ****** me there. There's a church bell ringing Welcoming the KY-gel I'm bringing Though I may be poor I'm the guy who's coming to do her. Just beyond the highway There's an open door And I can't stop running To **** that little ***** I can't forget Amarillo And Edna's mighty ***** I dream dreams of Amarillo And the girl who ****** me there. Which is the way to Amarillo? I've been weeping on my pillow Clutching to her huge great ***** And sweet Edna's public hair. Wah wa wa wa wa wa Wah wa wa wa wa wa Wah wa wa wa wa wa And sweet Edna's ***** hair Wah wa wa wa wa wa Wah wa wa wa wa wa Wah wa wa wa wa wa Lovely Edna's ***** hair
0
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 10:16 AM UTC
Memories of Amarillo
Kept in a box beneath the bed, ashamed of his profession. Nestled between the feathers and the cream, she seemed to have an obsession. Exploited for his only charm, exacting base hysteria. Battery low, haunted by the time she caught Chlamydia.
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 7:39 AM UTC
*****
Half past noon In the month of June He discovered a ***** In her room It made his wife's Flower bloom Solid and strong It stood seven inches long Yes this is The ***** song
0
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
The ***** Song
I thought you were mine You even bought me French wine Turns out you only wanted to consume me Like a ******* candy You told me I was in for a treat I was nothing to you but a ***** with a heartbeat
0
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 11:08 AM UTC
Candy
only whites could have turned the sacred mystic experience of some drug known to the south americans into a literature category and thus made easier to sell... but none of these gatsby's lovers of par tee off could ever re-sell a storm to care for a readership... but the thrill was long gone and the psychology behind it was not worth writing about it - white ******* stopped drinking the **** and started to inject it; i barely had a chance to try it, and i already feel i don't have to seeing her seller's pressure to try it and get addicted to van gogh of some sort; take the ***** of experience whereever you go! you can leave the flesh when writing about south american hallucinogenic weeds as you would leave words behind when embarking on plastic surgery.
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Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 8:18 PM UTC
the mediocre gatsby
my girlfriends last name is Woodcock... obviously invented before the rubber *****
0
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 1:08 AM UTC
duh