Archive for the ‘sperm drinking’ Category

Big Sur

Sunday, January 27th, 2008

He’d told her early on that this was one of his fantasies…to hike up to a
campsite near Big Sur. They’d packed all the necessary gear and driven as
close as possible early that morning, thoroughly enjoying both the scenery, as
they went south on Highway 1, and each others company. She never ceased to be
amused at an easterner’s comments as they admired the way the mountains met
the ocean on what seemed to them a backwards coastline.

Several times her hand drifted to his right thigh to punctuate a remark or
just to indicate her readiness for their planned outing. How often he’d
teased and cajoled her over the past several weeks both in messages and by
phone. Words like ’star- crossed’ and ‘destiny’ had leaped, rather than crept
into their many conversations, and she felt it to be true. They couldn’t
avoid being together, at least briefly. There was no sense of needing to be
hasty in their actions, just a feeling of fate needing to be yielded to.

They were intrigued by each other in ways neither had experienced in a long
time. Their conversations were sprinkled with puns and innuendos and much
laughter. He frequently accused her of littering his office floor with
innuendos which she countered by saying the cleaning staff should take care of
them adequately.

There was both a level of comfort and the excitement of the unknown which
surrounded them today. They had slept together only once in a somewhat
sterile hotel room, the previous night. But the experience was totally
fulfilling for each of them. They had performed as lovers but also played in
bed like puppies; exploring and frolicking joyfully.

She stretched in the passenger seat with a cat-like abandon and he again
admired the curve of her breast as it pushed the knit top to new contours.
Even dressed in jeans and hiking boots she had a stately quality mixed with
the enthusiasm of a child. What an enigma she was!

And had he been able to read her thoughts he would have realized she felt much
the same way about him. Watching his hands on the steering wheel she
reflected back to the pleasurable way he had touched her body and memorized
the feel of her skin. Looking at his neatly trimmed beard reminded her of the
way it tickled her thighs as he kissed his way up her legs and beyond. He had
certainly mastered her quickly, knowing just where and when to apply butterfly
kisses to increase her already elevated level of desire for him.

Their sexual union began under the guise of being a backrub of course. How
often is that technique used the world over? But it was a pretense they were
content to play out.

Their choice to be together today was also a ruse. Each acknowledged it was a
spontaneous decision. But that didn’t explain why he’d packed the
appropriately needed items before leaving his home in Massachusetts, nor why
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Archive-name Miscellfucktxt

Friday, October 26th, 2007

Archive-author:
Archive-title: Fuck You

Perhaps one of the most interesting and colorful words in the
English language today is the word “Fuck”. It is one magical word which
just by it’s sound can describe pain, pleasure, hate, and love. Fuck, like
most words in the English language, takes it’s name from another language,
the German word “Friklon” which means “WHOOPEE”.

In language, fuck falls into many grammatical categories. It can
be used as a verb, both transitive (John fucked Mary) and intransitive
(Mary was fucked by John), or as a passive verb (Mary doesn’t really give
a fuck). It can be used as an adjective (Mary is fuckin’ beautiful). As
you can see, there are not too many words with the versatility of “Fuck”.

Besides it’s sexual connections, this lovely word can be used to
describe many situations as follows:

Fraud…………….I got fucked by my insurance agents
Trouble………………………I guess I’m fucked now
Dismay………………………………..Oh! Fuck it
Agression…………………………………Fuck You
Passive……………………………………Fuck me
Confusion…………………………….What the fuck
Difficulty……I don’t understand this fucking business
Despair……………………………….Fucked again
Philosophical………………………Who gives a fuck
Incompetence…………………………He’s fucked up
Laziness……………………………He’s a fuck off
Displeasure………What the fuck’s going on around here
Rebellion……………………………Fuck the world

It can be used in descriptive anatomy: He’s really a fucking ass-hole.
It can be used to tell time: It’s fucking’ Five-thirty.
It can be used in business: How did I get this fucking job?
It can be used as a prediction: Oh well, I’ll be fucked.
It can be maternal: Mother-fucker!
It can be nautical: Fuck the Admiral!
It can be political: Fuck the President!
It can open the door to wonderful relationships: Lets fuck, baby.
It can be used to enhance the meaning of a word: Fuckin’ beautiful.

The mind fairly bogies at the many creative forms for this most
functional word. How can anyone be offended when you say “Fuck”? Use it
in your daily speech. It adds to your prestige.

-Tell someone today, “FUCK YOU”

Archive-name Miscellfantfacttxt

Saturday, October 13th, 2007

Archive-author: Rod Longley
Archive-title: Fantasy Facts!

About 88% of women studied experienced sexual fantasies, according to a report
published in ‘The Journal of Sex Research’. Researchers determined that the
subject of the most frequently experienced fantasy was involvment in an
extramarital affair (41%). Other fantasy subjects reported reported by the
women studied included:

Previous sexual experiences, other than the first (39%).
Different sexual positions (38%).
Current sex partners (36%).
Sex in rooms other than the bedroom (35%).
New sex partners (30%).
Sex on a carpeted floor (28%).
Sex in a motel (27%).
Pretending to be with a former lover (27%).
Reliving the first sexual experience (26%).
Sex on a beach (26%).
Having multiple orgasms (25%).
Engaging in oral sex (25%).
Being Sexually uninhibited (25%).

Some other FACTS on a percetage scale:

75% of Americans say good sex is ‘very important’ to a marriage.
25% of American married couples say they argue about sex or adultery.

16% of American men earning less than $5,000 annually say they cheat on their
wives.
70% of American men earning more than $70,000 annually say they cheat on their
wives.

47% of American men say they enjoy sex more than money.
26% of American women say they enjoy sex more than money.

Archive-name Miscellcwordstxt

Tuesday, September 18th, 2007

Archive-author:
Archive-title: Chinese Words

_________________________________________________________________________
| |
| Chinese Words We All Need to Know. |
__________________________________________________________________________|
| |
| Ga Fuck |
| Lin Your |
| Yah Mother |
| Wuh I, me |
| I Love |
| Nee You |
| Papa Father |
| Ta He, She |
| More More |
| Hie a dore More than anything |
| Hando Very much |
| Da Big |
| Me Doesn’t have |
| La er A dick |
| Jeba Pussy |
| Malee Beautiful |
| Shaw Think |
| Nio meo Do you have |
| gice Them |
| Tonesinglien Gay |
| Su Are |
| Nuhie Girl |
| Cawn See |
| Shaw Want |
| Nee numoo num? Will you? |
| La Oh! |
| Er 2 |
| Gun (Name) choo chee Go out with |
| Nee cub cuy? Can you? |
| Way Hello |
| Nee how ma? How are you? |
| Sheen chee ee Monday |
| Sing she ooh(Wansa) Friday (Night) |
| Jeenwhy Tonite |
| See Yes |
| Boo No |
| Nee she wah say? Who do you like? |
| Say? Who? |
| Chingtien Today |
| Chingtien nee how ma? How are you today? |
| Jeenee Spurm |
| Eenway Because |
| Tso Ugly |
| Nee hun tso You are very ugly |
| Nee she whine wu ma? Do you like me? |
| Wa sa ma? Why? |
| Nahnhie Boy |
| Nee su hun malee Nuhie You are very beautiful girl |
| Wa she wa ni tsie tsa I wish you were here |
| Bejuay Shut up |
| Lien Face |
| Wa shu chee nee I miss you |
| Tsa tsi su bu? What is this? |
| Wa jawngway I will |
| Nee yo eegu hun tsa da lawer You got a very, dirty, big, dick |
| Ni she needa jeba. You are a big pussy. |
| Ga ne ma jeba. Fuch your mothers pussy. |
| Chu ga lousi Go fuck the teacher |
| Ni si si jay san juay zo der lern You are the ugliest dick in the world.|
|_________________________________________________________________________|

Archive-name Miscell8preludetxt

Saturday, August 11th, 2007

Archive-author: Byron Elbows
Archive-title: 8-preludes to stories

1. Honey drips slowly from the edge of the jar. Emma takes the knife and
catches the falling stream, feeding it back into the jar’s mouth. I have
watched her do this, not this exact thing, but this sort of thing, for almost
an hour now. Either the honey falling, or the wind through the screen door
blowing papers onto the floor, or else the newspaper catches when she tries
to fold it back on itself. She fascinates me, in a humiliating sort of way.
I could watch her for another hour, unseen.

2. She gets up now.
From my bedroom window, I can’t quite see her face when she stands up,
and just like on the tabloid shows where they replace the faces with a
featureless blue disk, I expect her or her body to betray some terrible
secret. Maybe she suffers from scoliosis, or psoriasis, or possibly some
horribly disfiguring congenital defect that now and then allows her navel
to grow as large as a football.
I wait, watching for the telltale swelling in her abdomen. Surprisingly,
it never happens. No, her body remains perfect, just like yesterday.

3. “Where’s my Pepsi!?!” she cries to no one in particular, staring into
her refrigerator. “All I wanted was a Pepsi \ldots” Well, I have to
laugh at that. Just what I’d thought about all day. But when I looked in
the cabinet, all I had was syrup of ipecac. Revolting, but hardly sufficient
for the job.

4. She walks over to the sliding glass door, opens it just wide enough to
slip her slim body through, then closes it. I can see her dress now, a sort
of twopiece summer outfit, leaving her midriff bare. God, I want that
midriff. She can have the rest of her body, but I’ll take this perfect,
smooth—
Was that—? No, she just took a deep breath, that’s all.

5. She lies down on the lawn chair, reclining nearly all the way back, with
a Pepsi in her hand (she found one after all). Emma, Emma, Emma. I repeat
her name like Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, whose name I see in front of me as the
answer to a Trivial Pursuit question. I shake my head, annoyed, and the
mantra returns. You may have the alpha and the omega, but in between, there
always lives Emma, sweet Emma, a pretty little Greek figure in the middle of
all that Roman nonsense.
Still wondering? I only took Greek to decipher the sorority house names.
Imagine my disappointment when all the letter combinations appeared random,
rather than producing lurid, lascivious names, such as \ldots But I digress.

6. Emma sucks Pepsi through a straw. Sounds vaguely like some sort of
childhood insult. Your mother rides a vacuum cleaner. Your father has a
nose like a rubber hose. Emma seems mostly unconcerned about this.

7. She puts down the empty can on the cement patio with a hollow clank,
and closes her eyes. They do not like the sun, after all. I scratch my
legs.
I want to fall on her. Fall on her, like a Georgian flower, unfolding,
pressing petal to petal, surrounded only by the echoing sound of soft
waterfilled fibers. In my mind’s eye, the Pepsi takes on ambrosial
proportions, linking me with a divine nature. I see all the things I should
not ever see: every unicorn that ever ran, my hands held by someone on the
street, bells I never heard ring, and besides, the reverent smile of a little
boy and a blue blue sky.

8. I shake off my reverie to find her gone. I let out a hmph. The orchid
has fallen into the pond to meet its reflection with open arms, only to see it
disappear as it sinks slowly beneath the water. Shh! and goodbye.

(c) 26 Apr 1993