stoner boi

so he dares part his shaky thighs. one second passes, then two, then three, and on the fourth a slow dribble starts leaking out. it runs down his hole, almost tickling. his dick throbs so hard he sees it pulse. he’s so fucking close to something, and too far gone to know what kind of relief will hit first. he clenches his muscles as hard as he can, but nothing can stop the slow trickle. the tension keeps rising, and rising, and rising, until it’s another forceful spurt that escapes him. he yelps, it caresses the underside of his dick, and the sound turns into a moan.

his whole cunt clenches, throbs, a second spurt follows the first almost immediately, and he can no longer pretend he can hold it like this. his thighs come back together on instinct, squeezing his hard tdick once again. it’s too much all at once, overstimulating. another spurt come out. he bends forward, then leans back, unable to stay still for a second, as he keeps losing control. piss slowly floods the triangle between his thighs and his pubic mound. he keeps rocking back and forth, almost silent safe for breathless little gasps.

he’s almost forgotten how close he was until he comes. he’s closed his eyes to focus when it hits. the feeling coils in his guts, he feels his orgasm approaching, inevitable. for a second, he thinks of parting his thighs again to let the feeling pass, because there’s no way he’s coming without losing control, but then the thought of ruining this orgasm is unbearable, and it’s too late anyways. he squeezes his thighs as has as he can one last time, and goes over the edge. his hard dick throbs hard between them, so stiff and sensitive he has to release some pressure. with each orgasmic pulse he feels hot piss squirting out, completely out of his control. it floods him with warmth, with a rush. the pulsing heat keeps it going and going and going longer than it usually lasts. every time he thinks he’s done throbbing in pleasure, a warm squirt sends another wave through his body.

by the time he’s finished, he’s beyond oversensitive, unable to keep his thighs together at all. his exhausted muscles keep pulsing, twitching, his dick refusing to soften under the continuous stimulation of each spurt of piss that forces it way out of him. it keeps coming in interrupted leaks until his body finally manages to relax enough to just let go. the relief is as good as coming. he pisses for what feels like forever, unashamedly panting and moaning through it.

Woops, glad I caught that for you. Would've been so sad if you spilled this big full glass of wine, wouldn't it?

Hah. Can you even understand me anymore? Nope, doesn't look like it. No brain cells left in that wine soggy little head of yours. I wonder if you can even remember what to do with a wine glass. 

You are 18 so I’m going to answer this in good faith.

Unless you are racist and plan to never date anyone non-white, or are monogamously partnered to one person your entire adult life, if you do not consider the boundaries and histories of your kinks even if you still perform them, you WILL eventually at best say something horrifically offensive to a partner/potential partner without their consent, or potentially harm them worse with unconsidered bigotry.

To give a non-racial example that happens to me a lot, I’m going to mention Caning. I’m disabled, and use a cane any time I’m not at home as a mobility device critical to my ability to exist. I’ve had several potential partners, and far too fucking many strangers, ask me some variation of “oh it would be so hot if you caned me with that, will you?”

There is nothing wrong with caning as a form of impact play. However, this always, ALWAYS comes off as fetishization of my disability. There are ways to ask/talk about mobility devices being used in kink that aren’t ablest or nonconsensualy fetishizing! But they require the person not using a mobility device to have actually thought about the ways that bigotry could inform their kink and how to ask without being ableist.

It’s similar with race. To continue the maid fetish example, there are colonized countries like the Philippines whose main export is their people into service industry outside of their home country, especially into domestic work. Many of these jobs are modern day slavery, and people in diaspora may have people in their direct families affected by this. To bring this up to them without their consent due to your own ignorance would be you asking if you can fetishize the suffering of their people, even if you weren’t doing it with intent to harm. Filipinas in particular are often flooded with ads/content marketed towards whites specifically trying to promote the enslavement/kidnapping/assault of Filipinas while trying to interact with their identity both within and without nsfw spaces. (As a note, I am not Filipina, this was written with input from my Filipina friend)

*I am not yet enough at peace with my memories to use a stronger word for it. I hope it comes soon.

—and he didn't want the marriage either but that didn't stop him from raping her (conceiving me!). Her English was terrible, she couldn't drive and there was nothing you could walk to through those woods, all she had was a couple white-woman friends at church to keep her going. And they called her Lingling.

And... I derive sexual enjoyment from doing housework for white partners. But I do not enjoy reciting all that ^ damage for them. I do not bear the moral responsibility to educate an endless train of bitches.

So I need them to come to the negotiation already understanding the titanic weight, the millions of deaths, of why a Filipina woman might want to do their housework. Of why she's going to start crying partway through, and why that's part of what she wants out of it.

Get bigger

Get rounder

Get heavier

2) any vegetable is better than no vegetable

Trying to balance with beer #10

They watch as I stumble around all fuzzy and giggly, groping me as I stagger by, knowing that I’m too far gone to notice. They get me to do all sorts of things that the alcohol in my system tells me are good ideas—I sing a couple of songs (who cares if I don’t know all the words!), show off my dance moves (I didn’t even know I had any!), flash my tits…and each time, I’m rewarded with a big cheer and another yummy drink! Yay!!!!

Someone bold leads me outside to the alley and bends me over. It feels so nice, but it’s over too soon, and they lead me back into the bar for more drinks and fun. They’re not the only one with that idea, though I’m too drunk to keep track of how many. But I do get to cum once or twice while they’re having their way with me.

(kidnapping, non-con/dub-con, forced intoxication)

Kidnapped elf princess has been bound and gagged for days now. She was beginning to think the orcs had forgotten her back here, tucked into some random tent near the backline of their forces. They had been pretty drunk when they'd snatched her up, after all, pulling her shirt up and pinching at her soft, plush hips.

But no. They return tonight, three nights later, even more raucous and intoxicated than they night they'd stolen her.

She spots why almost immediately: a giant, dark cask being carried by the tallest one, dripping deep purple liquid from its wooden tap.

Orcwine.