WARNING: NEVER jerk of to TRAPS, FEMBOYS, OR SISSYS, it is a slippery slope! First yer jerkin it to a guy that looks a bit feminine, next thing you know? Yer in a pink miniskirt gettin ANALLY CREAMPIED and BUKKAKED by 4 cocks! I don’t even have 4 friends! And one of em thinks its a good idea to CUM IN YER HAIR does he KNOW how hard that shit is to get out? ITS FUCKIN HARD! I had to shower not ONCE, NOT TWICE, BUT 4 FUCKING TIMES, AND COMB MY HAIR FOR AT LEAST AN HOUR! Oh yeah, and despite what porn told me, CUM TASTES TERRIBLE, its far to salty, and less sticky as it is SLIMY.
Yet again, NEVER jerk off to TRAPS, FEMBOYS, OR SISSYS, or you may end up like me.
(▀̿Ĺ̯├┬┴┬┴ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
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I'd shoot Reynad twice
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Reynad
Daniel Craig Cock And Ball Torture
As Daniel Craig says goodbye to the role of James Bond, let us revisit one of the greatest films in the series. Casino Royale (2006)
Daniel Craig receiving some intense cock and ball torture at the hands of Mads Mikkelsen has to be my favourite scene from any Bond film. Right next to the opening of Skyfall. How appropriate is it that a character who has been the face of masculinity for half a century, nearly gets emasculated by someone who possesses none of that virility.
Le Chiffre (played by Mikkelsen) is in many ways the opposite of Bond. He lacks the vigour, sex appeal, and chivalry of 007. When a warlord threatens to cut off his girlfriend’s arm, Le Chiffre, out of fear does not object, to which even the warlord comments that she should find a better boyfriend. He suffers from Asthma and Haemolacria (Acute Haemolacria tends to occur in fertile women because of hormones). He even comments during the c and b torture session that he desires to ruin the body that Bond has taken such good care of (There is a hint of jealousy in his voice as he says this).
And yet, it is Bond who is strapped to the chair. The camera zooming in on his grimacing face at every strike to his manhood. This castration is also a symbolic one. The weakness and decline of the British empire is a key theme that is explored throughout the Craig Bond films. The idea that the CIA had to donate money to Bond so he could beat a man at a game of Poker, and yet still end up at the mercy of this traditionally impotent individual who is unaffiliated with any country, and has amassed all his power through his ability to control money — paints a damning picture of the power of modern day Britain. And it says a lot about what power really means in our modern world.
The opening theme by Chris Cornell is truly remarkable, and some of the action sequences here are the series’ most memorable. For me, this is the greatest Bond film ever.
As the man himself says goodbye to the role with the release of No Time To Die, it must be said that no one has embodied the character of James Bond and humanized him quite like Craig has. Nowhere is this more apparent than in Casino Royale. The ice-cold blue eyes that occasionally hint at soft vulnerability, will truly be missed. Daniel Craig can walk away with pride knowing he has been the greatest ever to play such an icon.
I lied. Again
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Months have passed. Hosty has lost everything. "I wish I never ghosted" says a heavily drunk Hosty as he notices a dark figure behind him."I can give you your life back as long as you do something for me" says Amaz. Hosty knowing what Amaz wants bends over and lets him have his way. Afterwards as he cries on bed, Amaz whispers in his ear "I lied. Again"
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Tempo Storm
It's not gay with socks on
When I was 13 years old a buddy of mine tried to convince me to fool around. I wasn't into it, and he told me it's not gay if you're wearing socks. I didn't believe him, went home, and asked my dad.
That's 'gentleman's gay', hardly gay at all. Don't see it much these days.
The 50s were a different time. What were we to do? We were typical boarding school boys, rich with vigor, skin slick with drying sweat and gritty earth from a game of pigskin.
At night our young, virile bodies filled the dorm with sweet-musky vapors, like game-meat stewed with apple and peppercorn. You'd awake in darkness to the hushed, melodic rhythm of two pairs of white tube socks, barely visible in moonlight, bouncing on the hardwood floor.
The deep bond of male friendship played like a thousand different human instruments. The wet claps of skin on skin, the gentle thud of heads on backboards, frenzied cries in the throes of climax. Wilbur, so fat and soft like tapioca pudding. His breasts were so like the real thing, what we fantasized of our future wives. Unwilling, defenseless Wilbur, so slow and uncoordinated in the dark. 10 of us would glaze his bare, pink flesh like a giant raspberry danish. He once had the audacity to tell Headmaster Redford. But Redford was a Deerfield boy once, he understood. So he joined us on our midnight hog hunts.
Through college and years after we'd find time here and there, away from the wives at a family lake house. But it's been decades now - the times have certainly changed. If you wanted to do something private with another man, in your socks, it wasn’t ‘gay’. It was just two men, celebrating each other's strength.
Why are you rank 9?
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┌| ◔ ▃ ◔ |┐ UH KRIPP..... why are you rank 9? ┌| ◔ ▃ ◔ |┐
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Kripp