I’m Going To Hell


“Jules wins one competition and she’s acting like she’s America’s next drag superst….WAIT! How the fuck did she get that car onto the runway?!?”

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I’m Going To Hell

“I don’t know how Jules does it. She’s been in the bottom two for the past four weeks and yet she always manages to pull it out with those tired old splits at the last minute.”

“Really? I heard she never pulls it out. Oh. You mean the competition.”

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I’m Going To Hell


Paul’s cock twitched and his butthole involuntarily clenched a bit when he spotted the huge, still-damp cum stain and got a whiff of the anonymous man-scent coming off yet another pair of underwear he’d stolen from the gym locker room. It was all he could do not to smash his face in the crotch of those tighty-whities right then and there and inhale deeply,

“Later,” he told himself. “Later.”

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Mary…

…was coming to the slow realization that attending a “Bukakke Party” had nothing to do with a lively discussion of Japanese politics.

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Dirk, Just Look Busy


“Okay, Dirk, just look busy. Look like you’re working, just in case. Just lightly tap the keys. Don’t press anything, don’t flip any switches. Just be cool, Dirk. You’ve got this. Morgan will be in soon and she won’t let you blow anything up.”

via

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Wha-Wha-What?

Anyone besides me find it a bit—odd—that there are two women sharing this bed? In 1959?!?

Built-in “vibro-massager”? “Stay up all night pushing buttons?”

As George Takei would say, “Oh myyyyyyy!”

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