Monday, July 26, 2010

268

Unplugged-2675 Unplugged-2676 Unplugged-2677 Unplugged-2678 Unplugged-2679 Unplugged-2680  Unplugged-2672 Unplugged-2673 Unplugged-2674

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Nice set, baby!

Anonymous said...

Boystation's immortal tideline whomp is happily bookended by the lovely portrait of the final penisclasp, each hand naturally arrested beneath the hilt of glans's treasured flare. In the latter, a fan of Chicago's desperate Cubs resorts to penis to restore his spirits, and why should he not? Here, the gorgeous circumference fills the gladdened fist with wondrous warmth and density, the parabolic dome of plushest flesh displaying its propensity to bloom with bold delineation of its cherished facets. Just why the Cubs do not disarm their foes with this approach is one of life's mysteries.

Bystander said...

Yes, Anon, one is tempted to urge our Cub to hold it right there, and set up a game of lingual badminton between your tongue and one's own, to see whose laving lap of this shuttlecock is the winner of its lambent, luscious splash. It's such a darling dazzlepith, already, let's see if we can make it garishly glisten in gross, grotesque engorgement, to light our play these shortening days of Summer. Shall we let it coat itself with precum between licks, or alternate in seasoning tongues with slaking sympathy, the better to search anus when it's not our turn to lacerate the dome?

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