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This is sooo you when you listen to podcasts šš§šš“
Let geraldo know in the comments if you relate to this one!
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I met this girl at a bar and we went back to my place. We were both pretty drunk and horny, and she asked if I wanted to fuck. I obviously said yes, and I couldnāt wait to try her big fat cock, but when I pulled down her panties, there was nothing there! It was just a squishy wet hole. I asked her where her schlong was, and she told me āGirls donāt have schlongs!ā I was so fucking confused. Please help me!
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Anyway, so my sister really likes it whenever I blow in her pussy, and by blow I donāt mean like blowing my load no I mean like blow as in from my mouth.
Like last week I was watching old elf porn, my sister then knocked on my door and I quickly shut off the porn I was watching and let her in. She was sweating like crazy and her shorts were soaked, she asked me to come blow her pussy, so I obliged and we went to her room, she then took off her wet shorts and spread her vulva wide open, then a took a deep breathe and blew in her tight spongy hole, then she came on my face, she apologized and we kept going, everytime I blew she came.
After a couple hours we stopped, I was covered in juices, like top to bottom I looked like I got out of swimming. My sister was defeated, panting like an ant in heat, I kissed her forehead and then went back to my elf porn. Itās not my kinda thing, but mom says if I donāt help blow my sister sheāll take away my lactating sex doll.
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Anyway, so this all happened when I was 16. Iāam 29 now but I mays well tell the cautionary tale.
So basically I was a a horny 16 yr old guy watching porn and jerking off. I was fairly late into jerking off and watching porn as I had only started around 16. When I was watching I realised the dicks in it looked different to mine, the heads were like a mushroom. Then with further investigation I learned that mine was different because it had a foreskin, and that some guys had it cut off (circumcision) or it was retracted.
So after learning the foreskin could be retracted, i started to try and pull it back, but unfortunately the skin was VERY tight, and I could barely move it I learnt this was called āphimosisā a tight foreskin. I decided over several days to try and slowly āpeelā the foreskin back. I finally started to make progress but I began to notice a white āmaterial ā under my foreskin,
My heart sunk, I was super confused and worried, i managed to get tiny bits off that were showing and they were hard as clay, I thought it was dried toilet paper. But I later learned it was āsmegmaā but unlike other stories, mine was really hard. Like no oozy ness or anything.
I kept going further and larger chunks became visible, it was like an iceberg, where initially only the tip is showing but there is ALOT hidden underneath. I noticed the each chunk was painful and tender to take off, I got further and further down the head. Where eventually one shower, it slipped all the way down.
Revealing to my horror the most āsmegaā of all, all built up under the head of my penis and on top of the head.
It was BURNING, my penis head had never been exposed properly and with the shower water on it it was so painful. But I kept pushing through to get all the smega off of the head. It was like it had formed its own map onto my penis, with indents on the head I still have today.
Once I finally got a look a my raw penis head the real horror began. The base of my head, like the mushroom edge part was purple and swollen. And there was purple discolourations on top of the head. But the worst was āgreyā areaās on the back of my head, with the feeling in them almost gone.
I was devastated, I could only guess that the grey part was from me āsleep fuckingā (with it erect under my stomach face down) and as my penis grew the hard smegma was constantly rubbing it and damaging the nerves hence the āgreyā. The the swollen purple was most likely from the more recent mastabation where Iād forcefully jerk my penis but not realising I have hard clay rubbing the head.
I honestly was angry initially, at my dad, myself, I became jealous of people with normal penisās and also wondered it it hindered itās growth.
As time passed I got over the initial shock and discolouration, as years have gone by the purple has reduced but unfortunately the āgreyā areas are still there although kinda improved although the nerve damage I got remains
As a result some sexual acts I donāt enjoy, head being one them, it either feels like nothing or gives me a plainly shock. I was getting head one time from a girl I met at uni, and claimed she was amazing at head, as she was was getting into it, my leg randomly shot up with a mix of pleasure and pain (more so pain) we both stopped and stared at each other.
we joked about it later like ādamn the head was that good it jolted life into youā. But I hate breaking it to girls I donāt enjoy it.
It also effected how sore my penis was, like I was have an aching sensation in the head of the penis for WEEKS initially and after jerking off, although that has improved the most. Was like having a crippled penis.
Moral of the story is tell your son to clean his penis. Or educate yourself.
And donāt take your normal fully functioning penis for granted.
TL;DR I didnāt clean my penis for 16 years and had to clean 16 years worth of smegma off it, which left me with permanent discolouration and nerve damage.
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Homicidal ideation set to the tune of make it foreverĀ
Strong urges to find out where mrlonely1995 lives and to shoot him in the face after telling him he should have kept his fucking mouth shut.
You should have kept your fucking mouth shut. You should have nipped yourself in the fucking bud. You absolute fucking moron.Ā
Now you have to die. Sorry.
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I don't think I've had such a clear image of killing someone in a long time. Actually the more I think about it I feel like I've imagined killing every single person I've ever met in some way. Or at least imagined their immediate or eventual death. It is the complement to seeing them alive. I simultaneously see their death. I see a life that doesn't matter, and a death that is just the same. Sweet fucking relief from the pretentiousness of life, of continuing to live because we think it is worth more than death, that it is better than death, that it is different from death, that it is separate from death. We live because we are obsessed with death. We do not know death. We criticize what we do not know. Death is sweet.Ā
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Today:
- make rough drafts fake death certificateĀ
- workout whatever
- annotate 2 hours
X sign up for new mint mobile account
- kill myself
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