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When pain occludes the climax. Loss of blood draining your libido?

 
 
Crimes_Of_Fashion
16:27 / 02.04.03
The things done to and by myself during coitus would kill me doing my laundry.

This thought gestated for awhile under the usual mastabatory fantasies of strangers and ultimatly birthed thus :

Sporting a sunday best erection do you think we could take the government?

Fall from buildings?

You think thats why the body inflates the loins when violently killed?
 
 
deja_vroom
17:12 / 02.04.03
I'll have two, please; one with sugar, one without. Thanks.
 
 
grant
19:48 / 02.04.03
It's really all pneumatics, though -- like an overfilled balloon, the flexibility goes right out the window. Any attempt at suppleness, and there's a loud -pop- and a red stain where once stood a would-be hero.

That's why tantric yoga is such a demanding and awesome discipline.

No, once excited, the best one can hope for is to be *wielded* by someone who has the flexibility and the clarity of mind.

Speaking from my own experience, of course.
 
 
Mourne Kransky
08:56 / 03.04.03
It is important to remember also that the penis can be broken. Which is a surprise, frankly, since it's not what you'd call a bony prominence.

Revolutionary fervour and the rush to orgasm might well contain some identical energies but, sadly, your plan might fail once the goal is achieved and everyone just wants to have a cigarette or go to sleep.
 
 
Sax
10:19 / 03.04.03
However, at least it is somewhere to hang your beret.
 
 
The Return Of Rothkoid
11:10 / 03.04.03
For a while, anyway. You'll eventually resort to a hatrack like everyone else.
 
 
Mourne Kransky
12:56 / 03.04.03
No revolutionary 'ardour, eh? I thought you were Hard Left too, Boyz.
 
 
pointless and uncalled for
13:48 / 03.04.03
No Xoc, that was one with and one without.
 
 
Crimes_Of_Fashion
07:47 / 05.04.03
So by the time the smoke billows up all hope for revolution or some kind of white out tantric detonation is over?


I expected... Japanese cartoon bunnies shooting out of every orifice then marching on the capital?

A chain reaction igniting every molecule in the universe to the choon of 'these boots are made for walking' (the Crispin Clover version)?

My horoscope for this day last year said 'Talking about sex all the damn time makes you cool.'

But only you.
 
  
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