Indecipherable Scrawlings

"I drove all night just to get to Intercourse and was so spent I just couldn't get over the line into Paradise."

Actually description of my last drive into Pennsylvania.

"The worst thing just happened!"

"We've been cursed by an eldritch vampire star god to forever and futilely attempt to slate a unquenchable thirst for blood?"

"Well...no."

"Zombies have learned to sustain themselves by feeding their victims into wood chippers?"

"No...why are you like this?"

I call her my Muppet, as she only really preforms when I get my whole hand in her.

Embarrassingly the blanket fell down a couple times before I remember my large and varied collection of clothespins had another and, some might say, proper use.

If you are truly lucky in love you will find someone who looks at you like Khrushchev looked at corn.

In the early 1900s Argentina decided that people being unmarried was a problem so they imposed a tax on bachelors.  Thankfully the tax could be avoided if the man could prove he had proposed marriage and been rejected, giving rise to a class of ladies who for a fee would provide the rejection.  And this was far from a unique situation.  100,000 women in the Austro-Hungarian Empire signed a petition demanding the same law.

The lesson being you can be thankful you live in a time when your mother has not unionized to demand the government force you to do something about those grandchildren she's been looking forward to.

The beads were a good choice I mused.  The contrast between the gentle curves and sharp edge concave entrances providing a varied if uniformly uncomfortable pressure on the knees her straight backed posture put almost all her weight on.  Unconsciously she squirmed to find a more comfortable position only to free when her slight movements pulled her trapped nipples taught against the binding clamps I'd mounted on the side of the table.  Rope nearly sliced into the base of those lovely breasts, looping behind her into a tight harness whose tails stretched straight up to the ceiling and through the loop on her collar.  Effectively fixing her in place and making her desperately wish to be elsewhere.

And that was before my crop came down.  Snapping a kiss on the sensative and vulnerable tits.  Her attempt to flinch failed.  The clamps bit down and the rope offered her no slack.  No where for her to go as my crop kissed it's was across her chest.  There was a little more room as I reached around to switch her bottom, but a firm hand on her throat fixed that.  I let myself slip away in the soothing rhythm, beating a furious tattoo.  Lastly I tickled her feet, letting the leather caress make her giggle even as her skins glowed with fresh marks.

With a contented sigh I settled down behind her.  One hand still cradling her slender, vibrant throat as the other pushed slowly across her stomach.  Raking the pommel my crop over soft skin.  I forced the hard, corded hilt into her welcoming slit.  Gently pushing her open as I kissed her shoulder.  She shuddered beneath my lips as the vibrator buzzed to life right against her clit.  Braided leather and pulsing plastic alternating as my finger closed around fur, leather and pulsing neck.  My teether pulled at her ear, both of us resounding as I growled.

Some combination of yelp and moan was forced out of her as I entered her.  Taking her ass.  Slamming into her as the clamps released.  Violently needy thrusts.  Alternating against the grinding crop and vine.  Rocking her back and forth on the beads.  My free hand mauling at her burning tits.  Sensation crashing into her, churning her tumultuous thoughts to buzzing nothingness.  Exploding out into utter stillness as I exploded into her.

I am an English Field Marshal and she is my map.  In the she was strung up against the wall, pricked with pins, and then beaten with a pointer I wielded with reckless force while I muttering vile incentives against the French before breaking for tea.

A friend and I were cutting up a fallen tree or at least trying to.  He was struggling to get the chainsaw started so I told him, "you got to choke it a little more to get it going."

He told me that he was trying to start the saw, not excited his girlfriend.

Though in great pain he was uncomplicatedly happy. He knew himself to be loved. She had lavished endearments upon him and held him in her arms. True, this was only after she had knocked him half senseless with some sort of blunt instrument. But no doubt all would be explained in the fullness of time.

My new favorite bird is the Tit-warbler.  Yes, that is it's real name.  No, I have not been drinking.  And not only does it have a funny name the white brow tit-warbler is a ball of rainbow fluff.

https://www.theanimalclub.net/wildlife/meet-the-white-browed-tit-warbler-the-bird-with-a-beautiful-rainbow-coloring/

Living in space presents several problems, but none more prominent than the lack of gravity.  Not because it leads to muscle loss, bone decalcification, and incredibly vertigo as those are small things.  Rather without gravity there is nothing to counteract momentum so if you were to thrust whatever you were thrusting into would continue floating off in that direction while you either become stationary or worse slide off in the opposite way.  Meaning sex is very difficult.

Thankfully NASA has conducted some serious "theoretical" research into the matter.  Reportedly involving a very expensive and camera filled pool.  There were obvious solutions; straps, harnesses, different positions.  But the best solution was an idea taken from dolphins who often involve a third fish whose job it is to bump the others back into positions.  Making the next step up from the Mile High Club the Three Dolphins Club.

This also means if you're having trouble selling someone on a threesome tell them it's important...for science!