Archive for the ‘cum swallowers’ Category

Archive-name Miscellerosia01txt

Tuesday, July 7th, 2009

Archive-author: David P. Thomas
Archive-title: Erosian Theory and Practice

Erosian Theory and Practice
David P. Thomas

Introduction

It is my purpose to create a text on the values and
practices of Erosian Practice, a study and method of life.
The term Erosian is coined from the Greek god Eros, who
was the male deity worship for sexual prowess. It is also
where modern society has coined such words as erotica and
erotic. I am the sole creator of Erosian Theory, and I
encourage others to study and add to my works. If you have
any comments, additions or questions I can be reached via
E-Mail on the Tampa based bulletin board, The Dojo,
286-4297. Leave E-Mail to David Thomas.

Many people will say when they initially study this text
that it is foul, profane, obscene, dirty, pornographic and
much worse. If you feel this way then this study is not
for you. Please feel no offense, and merely discard your
copy.

Definitions and Guidelines

Erosian Theory was created by myself in order to
categorize, define, and dignify sexual practice. Erosian
Theory can coincide well with standard love/relationship
practice. Erosian Theory is not a swing/swap club, nor is
it designed to be a matchmaking service. All of these
organizations are supported by Erosian Theory, however,
Erosian Theory is a way of thinking, a philosophy, not a
club.

Erosian Theory came into being at the time I recognized a
feeling of comfort involved in my own sexuality. Most
adults will feel to a certain degree comfortable with
standard practice sexuality, including but not limited to
hetro/hetro and homo/homo sexuality. However, it is well
documented that for most individuals to recognize comfort,
they must form meaningful relationships which extend into
the realm of love, commitment, family, ect. Those who
avoid such commitment often lack the required or desired
sexual contact. With Erosian Practice however, we justify
and validate the need and right for sex gratis sexis or to
coin an art term, sex for sex’s sake!
…End of the part1. To be continued..

The Commute

Friday, May 22nd, 2009

Port Authority Bus Terminal was nearly empty at this hour of the
evening. Ben waited on line for his bus home to Jersey, exhausted after
another day of bullshit at his public relations firm. It was bad enough
to pull these late nights on occasion, but to top it off this was the
start of the July 4th weekend. Just about everyone else had deserted
the city for cooler climates, making the station seem more desolate than
usual.

There were two other business types waiting on the “33″ line. Ben
looked at the clock: 11:45, five more minutes. He glanced across the
corridor, to an old bum lying in front of a bank of payphones, to the
contents of a trashcan overturned by someone looking for cans to
recycle. He was jostled from his reverie by a soft voice.

“Excuse me, is this the line for Montclair?” Ben turned to behold
a very pretty blonde. He momentarily forgot the question as he stared
at her. “The 33, does it stop here?”

The woman appeared to be in her mid-twenties. She was clad in a
short, loose black skirt with a sleeveless gold top that accented her
hair, which looked freshly washed. Maybe she just came from the gym,
Ben thought. Her attire and hair complemented a deep golden tan. Ben
remembered that it had been some time since he’d been laid and he felt
some familiar twitchings in his pants.

“Oh, sorry,” he finally responded. “Yeah, this is the line.” The
blonde thanked him and pulled out a paperback.

The bus pulled up to the door and the riders boarded. They were
greeted by an announcement that there was an accident in the Lincoln
Tunnel that could delay the trip. If there was one thing Ben hated, it
was getting stuck in the tunnel.

The two passengers ahead of him sat up front. Ben opted for
something in the middle of the bus. The blonde sat in the row in front
of him, across the aisle.

When the bus pulled away from the gate, the driver turned off the
main lights. Ben switched on his overhead lamp and returned to his
crossword puzzle. The blonde switched her light but it didn’t work.
Neither did the one for the seat next to her. “Shit,” she muttered, as
she gathered he bag and moved to the seat directly across from Ben. At
least he would have something to look at.

The blonde crossed her sexy legs, and tugged at her skirt. Ben
kept glancing at her, hoping she wouldn’t catch him. But she was intent
on her book.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Beach House

Thursday, April 9th, 2009

It was the last song of the night. Thank GOD. I never thought I’d get
off that stage. It must have been 150 degrees under those lights. I saw
her in the audience again tonight. She’s been at every show. I can’t
seem to stop thinking about her.

As I enter the dressing room once again it’s packed like a sardine can.
I’m sick of partying. I just want to relax for a while.

I tell bobby to pull the car around back. I need to get out of here for
awhile. I exit to the alley in time to see Bobby turning the corner
with the limo followed by the usual bunch of groupies. A new herd in
every town. I’m lucky enough to get in before they catch up. I tell
Bobby to wait. Maybe she’ll be in the crowd. As I scan through the crowd
of salacious women, I notice she is not among them.

I have Bobby take me to the beach house.

I haven’t had much of a chance to spend any time at the new house. I
hardly could remember what it looked like. I can hear the sounds of the
waves crashing on the beach. The sound is very soothing. I tell Bobby to
go, I won’t be needing the limo anymore tonight. I give him the rest of
the night off.

Once again the sound of the waves begins to lure me to the beach. I walk
out upon the deck, then down the stairs to sand below. I slowly walk
along the beach. I’m captivated by the sight of the moon reflectinng off
the water. The is cool and brisk. My thoughts are of her now. How I wish
I new her name. Another fantasy I know will never materialize.

After a time I hear a sound from behind. Startled I turn, and it is her.
The soft light of the moon creates the impression of a dream. She looks
at me from behind her eyes of liquid blue. She reaches out to me and her
touch lets me know she is real. No words pass between us. Nothing needs
to be said. She runs her fingers through my hair and pulls my lips to
hers. The scent of her hair is soft and light. The taste of her lips is
sweet. We kiss long and hard. The feel of her breasts press against my
chest as I nibble upon the soft flesh of her neck causes my penis to
engourge itself with my hot adrenalin saturated blood. She feels my
penis pressing against her stomach as our passions increase. She slowly
lowers to her knees and unbuckles my belt. I hear the sound of my zipper
as she slowly undoes it. The cool ocean air flows around my loins. Then
just as suddenly the warmth of her moist lips slides down upon my shaft.
She places her hands on my hips and begins to move me further into her
mouth. Her tounge moves around the head of my cock as she slowly pulls
it out of her mouth. She teases me with her tounge as she licks my balls
and then sucks them. Again she takes my shaft into her mouth and begins
a thrusting rythm by pulling and pushing my hips. As I watch her my
arousal increases ten-fold. She looks up at me as she continues to suck.
She takes my cock from her mouth and lies back on the sand.

As I kneel down beside her she takes of her shirt reveal her firm,
round, glistening breasts. I take them in my hands as my lips meet hers.
She whispers in my ear “Please make love to me.” I think to myself that
even if I wanted to there would be no way I could resist. I take her
nipple into my mouth and nibble on it. She sighs with delight as her
nipples grow tense. My lips make their way to the vulnerable flesh of
her stomach. Her breathing becomes rapid as I remove her shorts
revealing the jet black panties beneath. I stroke her clitoris through
her soft silky panties and feel that she is wet and inviting. I tear her
panties off in haste as her moans become deeper. I taste her delicate
juices as my tounge ventures within. The muscles in her legs begin to
tremble as I bite her clitoris. She places her hands on my head and
pulls it tighter against her vagina. Her hips begin to move about as I
fuck her with my tounge. She screams with passion “TAKE ME NOW”.

I rise to my knees as she rolls onto her stomach. She also rises to her
knees and I take her from behind. I grab her hips and slowly place my
shaft inside her. As I fuck her from behind she screams for me to thrust
faster and harder. I hold onto her breasts as I THrust in as deep as I
can go. I thrust harder and harder. I feel her juices flowing down my
shaft. I am consumed by the flames of her passions. She cums again and
again, until finally my cock explodes within her. Exhausted I fall to
the beach next to her. She rolls into my arms and together we fall
asleep on the beach.

As my eyes open I find her still with me and the beach deserted. It is
morning now and she looks at me longingly. We make love again, It’s even
better this time.

Archive-name Miscellpure-rk100

Saturday, July 5th, 2008

Archive-author: Texas A&M
Archive-title: Purity Test – Roadkill

The reader hereby is warned that roadkill games can be dangerous; not
all that appears dead is dead; not all scents can be removed by normal
means (ie, soap and water); not many of those who are weak of heart or
stomach can truly enjoy roadkill games, and attempt to do so at their
own risk of O’spurt-ing; not all roadkill is suitable for all things
contained herein, and discretion must be used in what one attempts to
do with a given piece of roadkill; not many states have laws
specifically banning roadkill games, but most judges and juries will
not think twice about locking up and throwing away the key on anyone
who can be shown to have participated in roadkill games; roadkill can
carry odd diseases; odd diseases can be passed between two or more
people engaging in roadkill games with the same piece of roadkill; not
all roadkill can be trusted when it says “I have it covered”; not all
roadkill is natural, some roadkill is manufactured and placed on the
road for tourist’s viewing pleasure by local governments (case in
point: the number of armadillos one can see as roadkill on any given
day in Texas far exceeds any estimations of the living population on
the previous day); not all roadkill is suitable for consumption; not
all roadkill will go with “basic black” pumps; not all people consider
roadkill a topic for polite conversation; not all parties can be
livened up by bringing along your own roadkill; not many people
consider roadkill an appropriate housewarming gift; not all roadkill
enjoys being roadkill; not all universities have roadkill
organizations that can tell you where the really good roadkill is and
that can inform you of local laws and customs in the area of roadkill
(start your own, today!); not many hunting magazines consider roadkill
eligible for “best kill” competitions; not many people read all of
these conditions, but all are held to have if they read later portions
of the test, and therefore the authors are not libel in any way,
shape, or form for anything that happens to a reader because of having
read the Omnisex, Roadkill Purity Test, unless of course something
GOOD happens to the reader, in which case we demand 40% off top–
contact the law firm of Grinch, Evil-anti-Grinch and Assoc., College
Station, TX, 77840, for payment instructions.

_______________________________________________________________________________
The Roadkill Purity Test is a blatant plagiarism of the original Purity Test,
and therefore we shall list its history as the history of this test.

Original Style Purity Test Genesis/History:

Version 1 (100) Created at MIT-1@aker House. Two parallel versions; one for
male, and one for female. Not much is known about this
version. It was ported to CMU by ps in 1982.
Version 2 (247) Spring 1983 – CMU/jb, pd, kr, ps, ts, mt, et al.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Archive-name Miscellpure-40035a

Monday, May 26th, 2008

Archive-author:
Archive-title: Unisex, Omnisex Purity Test 400

_______________________________________________________________________________
THE UNISEX, OMNISEXUAL
P U R I T Y T E S T
_______________________________________________________________________________
Version 3.5A (400)
Final Release
13-Apr-1985
_______________________________________________________________________________
Public domain; no copyright. All rights wronged, all wrongs reversed. Up with
going down. The risen flesh commands: let there be love. Murphy’s law on sex:
Love is a matter of chemistry; sex is a matter of physics. Chaste makes waste.
Virginity can be cured.
This document was not sponsored by the Department of Defense Advanced Research
Projects Agency, and was not monitored by the Air Force Avionics Laboratory.
The views and conclusions contained in this document should not be interpreted
as representing the official policies, either expressed or implied, of the
Defense Advanced Projects Agency or the US Government. Neither should it be
interpreted nor inferred that the authors/contributors have actually performed
any of the actions contained herein.
_______________________________________________________________________________
N O T I C E
Disclaimer of Liability
The user of this test acknowledges, understands, and agrees that sex is a
hazardous sport; that a person must copulate in control, and use good judgement
at all times; that their partner’s condition vary constantly and are greatly
affected by weather changes and previous use, that dirty sheets, variations in
terrain and bed surfaces, spouses/pimps/managers, forest growth, rocks and
debris, clothed obstacles, and many other natural and man-made obstacles and
hazards, including other users and customers, exist throughout the bedroom
area. Personal managers (pimps/spouses) and sado-masochistic operations and
equipment are constantly in use and may be hazardous to customers not
copulating in control. Impotence, collisions, and social diseases resulting in
injury can happen at any time, even to customers copulating in control with
proper sexual equipment. Inherent and other risks are part of the sport and
exist in your partner. As a condition of being permitted to use the facilities
of your sex object, the user of the partner agrees to copulate in control and
within the limits of his/her ability and further acknowledges and accepts these
hazards, dangers, and risks and assumes the risk of injury or loss to person or
damage to property which might result from the customer’s use of the partner’s
facilities.
As a further condition of being permitted to use the facilities of your
partner, the customer understands and agrees (1) that in the event of a
transfer of use by another or anything else in the management’s opinion is
misconduct, misuse, kinky, impotence, or nuisance, this service may be revoked
without refund; (2) that the partner is the property of the harem and, upon
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Beach House

Wednesday, January 23rd, 2008

It was the last song of the night. Thank GOD. I never thought I’d get
off that stage. It must have been 150 degrees under those lights. I saw
her in the audience again tonight. She’s been at every show. I can’t
seem to stop thinking about her.

As I enter the dressing room once again it’s packed like a sardine can.
I’m sick of partying. I just want to relax for a while.

I tell bobby to pull the car around back. I need to get out of here for
awhile. I exit to the alley in time to see Bobby turning the corner
with the limo followed by the usual bunch of groupies. A new herd in
every town. I’m lucky enough to get in before they catch up. I tell
Bobby to wait. Maybe she’ll be in the crowd. As I scan through the crowd
of salacious women, I notice she is not among them.

I have Bobby take me to the beach house.

I haven’t had much of a chance to spend any time at the new house. I
hardly could remember what it looked like. I can hear the sounds of the
waves crashing on the beach. The sound is very soothing. I tell Bobby to
go, I won’t be needing the limo anymore tonight. I give him the rest of
the night off.

Once again the sound of the waves begins to lure me to the beach. I walk
out upon the deck, then down the stairs to sand below. I slowly walk
along the beach. I’m captivated by the sight of the moon reflectinng off
the water. The is cool and brisk. My thoughts are of her now. How I wish
I new her name. Another fantasy I know will never materialize.

After a time I hear a sound from behind. Startled I turn, and it is her.
The soft light of the moon creates the impression of a dream. She looks
at me from behind her eyes of liquid blue. She reaches out to me and her
touch lets me know she is real. No words pass between us. Nothing needs
to be said. She runs her fingers through my hair and pulls my lips to
hers. The scent of her hair is soft and light. The taste of her lips is
sweet. We kiss long and hard. The feel of her breasts press against my
chest as I nibble upon the soft flesh of her neck causes my penis to
engourge itself with my hot adrenalin saturated blood. She feels my
penis pressing against her stomach as our passions increase. She slowly
lowers to her knees and unbuckles my belt. I hear the sound of my zipper
as she slowly undoes it. The cool ocean air flows around my loins. Then
just as suddenly the warmth of her moist lips slides down upon my shaft.
She places her hands on my hips and begins to move me further into her
mouth. Her tounge moves around the head of my cock as she slowly pulls
it out of her mouth. She teases me with her tounge as she licks my balls
and then sucks them. Again she takes my shaft into her mouth and begins
a thrusting rythm by pulling and pushing my hips. As I watch her my
arousal increases ten-fold. She looks up at me as she continues to suck.
She takes my cock from her mouth and lies back on the sand.

As I kneel down beside her she takes of her shirt reveal her firm,
round, glistening breasts. I take them in my hands as my lips meet hers.
She whispers in my ear “Please make love to me.” I think to myself that
even if I wanted to there would be no way I could resist. I take her
nipple into my mouth and nibble on it. She sighs with delight as her
nipples grow tense. My lips make their way to the vulnerable flesh of
her stomach. Her breathing becomes rapid as I remove her shorts
revealing the jet black panties beneath. I stroke her clitoris through
her soft silky panties and feel that she is wet and inviting. I tear her
panties off in haste as her moans become deeper. I taste her delicate
juices as my tounge ventures within. The muscles in her legs begin to
tremble as I bite her clitoris. She places her hands on my head and
pulls it tighter against her vagina. Her hips begin to move about as I
fuck her with my tounge. She screams with passion “TAKE ME NOW”.

I rise to my knees as she rolls onto her stomach. She also rises to her
knees and I take her from behind. I grab her hips and slowly place my
shaft inside her. As I fuck her from behind she screams for me to thrust
faster and harder. I hold onto her breasts as I THrust in as deep as I
can go. I thrust harder and harder. I feel her juices flowing down my
shaft. I am consumed by the flames of her passions. She cums again and
again, until finally my cock explodes within her. Exhausted I fall to
the beach next to her. She rolls into my arms and together we fall
asleep on the beach.

As my eyes open I find her still with me and the beach deserted. It is
morning now and she looks at me longingly. We make love again, It’s even
better this time.

Alma

Thursday, January 3rd, 2008

I was in the window seat of a Piedmont 737, taxiing out at
Washington National that morning. My destination was New Orleans
with a change of planes in Atlanta. As we passed the transient
ramp in front of Butler Aviation, I saw my old airplane. It had
been repainted, but bore the same numbers along each side of the
fuselage. The sight of it brought back a memory from the 1960’s
that marked the highlight of my brief career in commercial
aviation.

Officially, the airplane’s registration number — and radio call
sign — was N-5558B. But to my two partners and me — and to
the tower crew at her home airport in Opa Locka, Florida —
Beech Travelair N-5558B was “Triple Nickel 8-Ball.” She was a
outside business venture of three lawyers — my two partners and
me — who shared a criminal-law practice in Miami, and a love of
flying. Sherlock — the name my father, an Arthur Conan Doyle
fan, gave me — earned the law firm some early publicity, and we
were doing well enough to afford to buy Triple Nickel 8-Ball. Our
aviation business involved flying bags of bank checks from Miami
International Airport to Atlanta Hartsfield Airport where they
were taken by van to the Federal Reserve Depository for
processing. The income was predictable; but the flying wasn’t –
particularly in the summer when the Florida thunderstorms topped
out at about 40,000 feet.

What we admitted, to everyone but the I.R.S., was that our money-
losing business was just an excuse to fly and hang around the
airport’s Fixed Base Operation trading lies with the other pilots
and would-be pilots that inhabited the pilots’ lounge.

There was a flying school there — a collection of Cessna 150’s,
young instructors with their eyes set on the airlines, and
students from the local area. Late afternoon usually found a
fair sprinkling of women in the pilots’ lounge; some of them
students, but mostly the girl-friends of the students and
instructors. They all knew about our operation, and with
suitable hints, could wrangle a ride in Triple-Nickel-8-Ball on
our Miami-Atlanta-Miami trip when we wanted the company.

A few weeks before, the female “regulars” in the lounge had
jokingly announced formation of a local chapter of the “mile-
high” club — and that subject had replaced discussion of
instrument-approaches and engine overhaul prices. As I
understood it, the rules were simple: sex above 5280 feet,
unaided by co- (or auto) pilot. The novelty of the topic wore off
after a while; but one day a female student showed up with a
small pendant hanging from her neck on a gold chain: a set of
…End of the part1. To be continued..

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