What you meant was: "Pay for our non-functional/non-free software until your ass bleeds and then pay us some more!"
Wake the fuck up. Squatting on information is criminal. Just like people are getting judged for torture and genocide (which were tolerated once) now, the proponents of proprietary standards and commercial software are going to get it in their ass one day. Mark my words, my friend.
You're absolutely right. Most of the "Linux for Office" freaks don't realise that Unix applications simply aren't ready for prime-time because it takes goddamn lot of time to learn to use the apps in the first place.
I like to hack on my own time. At home I've got a dual AMD and Sun Sparc to play with.
However, when I want to get things done at work I...
...use whatever system (OS and applications) everybody else is using. That's Windows and MS Office. Using any other system only results in conflicts between filetypes.
...use whatever gets the job done the fastest way. That's why when it comes to writing reports, creating slideshows, spreadsheets and graphs I use Office. In my youth I almost fucked up my graduation because I was foolish enough to start writing the last, crucial essays with LaTeX. Now, LaTeX is not a bad tool once you learn it but learning it takes LOTS OF TIME which I didn't have so much at the time.
You see with people inventing names such as the PR-disaster "Carnivore", Orwellian "Office of Homeland Security" and just absurd "Patriot Act", it's hard to be original.
GWB has given Sharon a go-ahead signal to do whatever they want.
This can only mean that it's a question of time when Israel will start her own version of the 1940s "final solution". What the heck? They're already occupying land and torturing men, women and children. Why not go ahead with a full fledged genocide while you're at it?
The mess the genocidal Sharon has single-handedly made of the peace process would be funny if people weren't acually dying because of it.
This came to me in a flash today, and perhaps it bears discussion.
I was looking for news my wife mentioned, when the headline page came
up "232 KILLED IN TRAIN DISASTER!!!" I almost choked. What a huge
total! Then, as the story slowly loaded, I saw the simple explanation:
it was in India. Suddenly, I thought, "hmm, less than a thousand dead.
Must have just been all the dots riding on the roof that fell off."
Still, the initial effect of the number got me thinking. It is a given
that dead people have different values around the world; if 10,000
Floridans died in a hurricane, it would be staggering--but in
Pakistan, the headline would just be "Heavy Rains Continue".
Do we need a standard of human value like currency exchange rates to
standardize the reporting? I came up with the dull, prosaic "Relative
Human Value" index. I don't really like the name, but I think the idea
is sound.
First, we need a standard. At first, I thought of using a US citizen
as 1.0, but then realized that scale would require scientific notation
for countries in Africa. So, I decided given GMT and all, perhaps we
should use a typical Englishman. But that would only be slightly
better in terms of scaling.
Maybe we ought to use a typical Frenchman, thus keeping the range down
to a manageable 100rh to.001rh, worldwide.
But it's late, and I have no time to calculate the relative values
myself. I assume population density, per capita income, infant
mortality rate, and tendency for local horrendous acts of Glub would
be primary factors. I leave that for discussion.
Anyway, I just think it would be less jarring to read "Train Wreck:
Death Toll 1.75rh".
MAYFIELD HEIGHTS, OH: A few days ago, fuckin' tuesday or so, some fuckin'
dimshit stabbed the hell out of his wife, and then cut his own fucking head off
with a chainsaw while cops watched.
Ooh, I have a hard on here. The fucking Cleveland Indians can't win a
baseball game, but this fucksoul cuts his own goddamn head off. Karma.
A woman, known only as "Ash", was one of those dim fucking cull cunts who
"love" slithering shits who beat the fuck out of them, as opposed to the creepy
nerds who lust after them in High School.
Last Monday or Tuesday (I lost the fucking article), Ash was enjoying her
usual domestic bliss with boyfriend Timothy Raruick, who was really pissed
because she had been doing shit that, y'know, pissed him off.
So he says "Feed me." and she goes into the kitchen and fixes him a nice bowl
of cereal. Dumb bitch makes it, turns around, and gets a big knife in her chest
for her trouble.
Tim merrily stabs the living shit out of her as she pitifully crawls for it,
creeping towards the door as he stabs her into next tuesday.
Once she'd crawled out the front door, she was able to stagger over to a
neighbor. Luckily, this neighbor had been a nurse in Vietnam, so massive stab
wounds were old hat for her... she bound the wounds and called the cops. (Her
pussy-ass husband was psychologically wounded, however.)
So shortly, a shitload of Mayfield cops appeared, none of them in a good
mood. They quickly descended upon the apartment where Tim was still ranting
about food.
Good part: When the cops closed in on Tim, he picked up a chainsaw, fired it
up, and decapitated himself.
"Ash" is clinging to life at some high-and-mighty Cleveland Clinic, yeah I
hope she pulls though.
Sickeningly though, the state of Ohio paid for Grief Councilors to come out
and comfort the poor wittle cops, who may need a shoulder to cwy on,... awwww.
No offense to the Law Enforcement professionals that read AT, but we all hate
you, and besides, Jesus, I'd HOPE that you could take a chainsaw decapitation.
If not... *sad*
Not a cute monkey mind you, but a strong monkey, a good 45 pound spider
monkey, lean and mean. My limbs are incredibly long, all sinew and tight
muscle. I EAT cute little TV and organ-grinder monkeys. I'm a mean,
wild, strong male spider monkey.
And I wait.
I follow him easily. In the noisy city he can't hear me as I brachiate
through the few trees that line the street outside his spacious condo. I
take to the building facades when necessary, deftly keeping pace with my
quarry, my obsession. The trim black hat is easy to track, not least of
which since his movements are so predictable. Some days I fly ahead,
perching on a cornice to wait for him to catch up. I catch site of him
two blocks away. I watch with growing excitement as he approaches. The
face crystalizes below the hat as he approaches and I sway anxiously as he
gets closer. The round full cheeks, well lined...the small dark
eyes...the short neck...all are seen and quickly passed over as I stare at
the Nose.
Yes, the Nose. The object of my fascination: so large and round, those
huge, hair-rimmed nostrils. I feel my small monkey penis begin to stir.
I scramble around the corner as he passes, staring at the Nose as best I
can. My monkeyhood is definitely rigid now, a burning red lance that begs
me for gratification NOW, but I force myself to go on, following my quarry
up the final block to the condo. I stop, rewarding myself with a few
tentative whacks while he fumbles his keys out and lets himself into the
lobby, heading for the small courtyard within.
The courtyard. It is time.
I scramble up the wall and hurl myself onto the roof, twisting to keep my
turgid monkeymember clear of the stonework and run awkwardly in a
fourlegged crab gait across the asphalt roof to the open courtyard
within. He's just entering now. Crossing the brick walk towards the
private entrance on the other side. And he is alone. I must do it now.
NOW! I throw myself into the air with a shriek, crashing into the big oak
below and thrashing my way down, straight towards him. He starts at my
shrill cry of lust, whirls around in fear and stumbles as he backs away
and he finally SEES me and the eyes go wide as I leap the final distance
and spread my limbs and THUD! I land right on top of him! I slam into his
face staggering him back against the wall as I shriek again and wrap my
spindly arms and legs around his head, digging my nails into his tender
skin as my hips begin their uncommanded gyrations, my burning hot monkey
love-stick beating his face and finally, with a gasp of triumph, it hits
home! My monkey-tool quickly fills the nostril and my slimy monkey pre-cum
lubricates it easily after the first dozen dry thrusts, my shrieks of
pleasure drowning his frantic cries of suprise and alarm. I thrust
harder, HARDER, my primal monkey lust driving me to an ever increasing
frenzy of pure animal nostril fucking.
He falls back against the wall again, his screams muffled by my dense ass
fur and the base of my tail as my swollen balls beat a pounding staccatto
rythymn on his upper lip. His hands flail on my back and sides in a vain
attempt to pry me loose, but I just dig my nails deeper into the back of
his neck. My eyes have long since stopped to register anything as I
mercilessly wail my monkey-club into his nostrils. I switch often, a
dozen quick thrusts to the left, then a dozen more to the right. My furry
asss is a blur and my open mouth drools onto the top of his bald head, the
hat long lost. Faster, Faster, I feel the end, oh god the Nose is so damn
good, no monkey bitch was EVER like this, oh god, I feel it, I feel...
AAAHHHHHH!! I bite down hard as I blast a wad of monkey-gut into the
nostril, feverishly pumping the last of my primate lust into that famous
Nose.
He has stopped struggling, stopped screaming. I withdraw quickly,
launching from his shoulders back to the lower limb of the oak and turn to
see him collapse onto the walkway. His face is a mess. His cheeks are
smeared with blood. It drips off his chin onto his now-crumpled white
shirt. Two wide streams of blood, thinned now with monkey-spunk, run over
his lips and into his mouth. But I really see only the Nose. So
brutalized, it's as red as my now-shrivelled monkey-piston. Battered and
bruised, but still magnificent. I catch my breath, only for a few seconds
though, then I'm off.
Up onto the roof, I am soon lost into the urban jungle to finally rest and
recover from my spent passions. I am content, for now. For now. But
soon enough, I'll be back. To watch, at first. To follow. To admire
that sexiest of all noses. And, eventually, to sate my all-encompassing
monkey-lust. It is always this way, but he is always there. He always
knows I'm coming back. I think, sometimes, that he waits with the same
growing excitement as I do...
Gov. Bush Admits to "Squicking" as Youth
By Charles McCunnilingus
CNN.com Writer
(CNN) -- Texas Governor George W. Bush has confirmed Democratic charges
that in his youth, he "squicked" on at least two occasions.
"Squicking", a term unfamiliar to many Americans, involves creating a hole
in the skull of a sexual partner and inserting the penis into the hole for
sexual gratification.
At the time of the alleged incidents, in 1976, there were no state laws
prohibiting the practice. A judge ruled in 1979 that the Texas statute
prohibiting sodomy did not apply to squicking as no anal contact was
involved.
A subdued Governor Bush admitted to the charges during a press conference
early Wednesday. When asked if he had ever squicked a male friend, he was
unclear. "I don't think so. Folks, that was 24 years ago," he said. "I'm
not proud of it."
A unidentified spokesperson for Vice President Al Gore's presidential
campaign, speaking on the condition of anonymity, denied responsibility
for the leak. "Hey, I don't care what he does in his spare time," the
person stated. "He prolly f---s cows anyway so this is no big deal."
Shortly after the press conference, election officials in Wisconsin,
Jeffrey Dahmer's home state, announced that the too-close-to-call vote
count had gone sharply in Bush's direction.
Please pray for my anus!
on
MAME On Xbox
·
· Score: -1, Offtopic
Woke up an hour ago with an INCREDIBLE cramping in the waist area. At
first it was a real grunt and groan to try to shit as it felt like
semi-hardened concrete (my sick evil brain just *had* to conjure up
images of the "concrete impatced colon to keep me company during my
ordeal), but once I got the rocks out, things went more smoothly, and
the pain subsided.
After wiping off, I leave the royal chamber, but within a few moments, I
start to feel the cramping again, and it's back in I go for another shat.
Several times this has been going on. I shat. I feel better. I wait a
bit in case of a relapse. I get up after no warning signs, and no sooner
am I ten feet away from the bathroom door, I get the cramping once more
and it's deja vu all over again.
By the sixth time, I feel like I'm shitting battery acid. There's no
more matter in my colon, so why the fuck does it want to cramp and shit
some more. Fucking goddammed organ!!
Last night at the gym, after a regular workout, we did a
little sparring. We didn't stop to put on headgear, cups,
or mouthpieces, so we were only throwing punches to the
body. The group was unusually estrogen-rich, and I wound up
trading punches with three different women.
If you try to punch a woman between the collar and waistband
with 16 oz gloves you can't help but hit tits. The fact
that the tits are part of the legitimate target area doesn't
matter. I can't bring myself to hit them.
I find my inhibitions very troubling. The women I sparred
with certainly weren't concerned about throwing punches at
*me*. Why can't I fight back?
I gave this a lot of thought and I've come to the
realization that I have, hard-wired into my brain, certain
behavior regulators. Sorta like Asimov's Three Laws of
Robotics. I call them MikeM's Three Laws of Tits:
1. Do not harm tits, nor through inaction allow tits to
come to harm.
2. Obey all orders given by tits, unless they conflict with
the first law.
3. Protect yourself, unless doing so conflicts with the
first or second law.
How do I rid myself of these laws? I want to be a better
boxer. I want to be able to punch bags. Suggestions?
Ok, here ya go: Forget straight razor for obvious reasons. Drop the
idea of the beard trimmer. The cutting head can actually snag the
folds of your scrote and nick it quite painfully. Shaving "lotions"
and after shaves have one thing in common; alcohol. Dip your nads in
alcohol and report back. You will quickly see why this is a Bad Idea.
What you really need, aside from determination and patience, is a
couple of plain ol' disposable razors (a couple because they do tend
to dull rather quickly on the coarser hair) and baby oil or an alcohol
free hand creme (like Jergens).
Use your usual lathering agent, although I've found the stuff that you
squeeze from a tube and have to froth with a brush works excellent,
and lather your jewel sac. Here's the fun part, grab yer scrote where
it meets the base of your choad and squeeze to tighten the nuts in
your sac. Get a good grip, you won't damage anything, and get the skin
taut. Take your razor, lay it gently on the skin and stroke lightly
without applying too much downward pressure, preferably against the
grain of growth. Use short strokes. Repeat and change razors as
necessary. *Don't* try to rush it.
If you have unusually long ball hairs, it's advised you take the extra
time to trim 'em down *carefully* with scissors to simplify things.
The reason you want the skin tight, is so that the razor won't find
purchase within the nooks and crannies often found in the usual scrote
and make you wince with the nicks and cuts you'll get otherwise.
After your sac is as smooth as you like it, rince off the excess
lather with a hot towel, then apply your creme/lotion really well,
allow to absorb for a short amount of time, wipe away excess and
admire. Let your fuck-mate admire. Call your neighbours to admire.
My night out
Copyright (C) 2001 CmdrTaco Permission is granted to copy, distribute and/or modify this document
under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.1
or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation
With one hand in my pocket I was rubbing my hardon and with the other
I was trying to flag down a cab, all up it'd been a lousy night.
Being
29 years old I made a point to avoid the clubs but I didn't mind the
pubs. I didn't have the kind of body gay guys seem to go for, the
muscle in my arms and legs was their but it didn't have that
self-consciousness about it, it was just everyday muscle, nothing
special and lacking any real definition due to the ever increasing
body fat. I didn't give a fuck really, I had pale white skin and
maybe too much hair in some places and not enough in others but I
always thought I wasn't that bad to look at, besides I was a decent
kind of guy so if that was a problem well, fuck em'. At least that's
what my geek compound friends and other Slashdot folk tend to tell me.
Feeling light headed from the beers I'd drank at the pub I'd let
my friend Jon grope me between two cars in the parking lot, both of us had
worked up decent stiff poles in our trousers and it'd seemed only
natural to make our way back to my flat across town. I was just about
to suggest we make a move when a woman's voice yelled out across the
lot 'Jon, we've gotta go NOW! I know you're out there. I just hope
you're not molesting some misunderstood geek guy 'cos I sure as hell am
not gonna bail you out this time!'. Turned out Jon had been drinking with
his sister and two friends at a pub nearby and his sister had met an
ex-boyfriend and started carrying on about some bullshit in their
past. I really didn't give a fuck about all that but Jon reluctantly
said he had to go because of some fuckin' reason or other. By then it
was getting onto 2:00 a.m, the bars were closing up and I couldn't
handle going to a club so with my hardon straining against the fly of
my khaki's I made my way out to the street and started searching for a
cab. Absentmindedly I rubbed my cock through the lining of my pockets
and ran through my mind the things I'd hoped to be doing with that guy
Jon before the whole plan was shot to hell by his sister.
After 15
minutes I hadn't seen one cab that wasn't booked or full, the
frustration was building up in me and so all I wanted to do was get
home and jack off as a release. As I was trying to see through the
traffic if the cab half a block down was trying to do a U-turn towards
me another cab must've seen my hand raised as it glided to a stop next
to me. The driver leant forward and looked at me "where you going?"
He'd driven up so fast I hadn't seen him so with a jerk of my arm I
pulled my hand out of my pocket, leaning forward to hide the rise in
my trousers I gave him my address. With a barely noticeable glance at
my crotch the driver nodded his head and told me to get in. "You very
lucky, I just start work for tonight. You my first fare" "Yeah, great.
I've been trying for twenty minutes" We'd pulled out into the street
but in this part of town, at this time of night it wasn't long before
we ground to a halt in the heavy traffic. The driver was an Arab guy,
the ID on the dash gave his name as Ahmed, from the street lights I
could see he was early to mid thirties, even so his moustache and
unshaven face had the light covering I'd usually associate with a
younger guy. As he looked around us and muttered about the traffic I
had a chance to see his face, his full looking lips had a slight glint
of saliva on them, his skin was dark and I could just make out some
slight old acne scars - I try to avoid generalising but his nose,
eyebrows and the thick but cut short black curly hair were what I'd
call Arab looking.
He wasn't skinny, I wouldn't call him fat but he
was solid, it was obvious someone must of fed him well and regularly.
He was a good looking guy but as with most middle eastern blokes I
always assume they're straight so I turned and looked out the opposite
window. A few times he half heartedly blew the cabs horn but as we
inched along the crowded street it soon became obvious to him that no
matter what we weren't going anywhere in a hurry. With a barely
audible sigh he relaxed in his seat and accepted the wait. As I looked
out the window at the other cars and pedestrians I could feel the
driver looking at me, with a small cough I shifted in my seat and
pretended not to know. I wasn't in a talking mood and I didn't wanna
hear his gripes about the traffic.
"Where you been tonight?" he asked.
"Maloney's". Looking at him as he nodded his head I guessed he knew
that this pub got alot of gay men in it. "Now you go home alone"
"Yeah. It was going well but he had to leave" Making it known that it
was men I was into I felt my flaccid cock shift slightly in my briefs.
"Did you touch his cock?" This question shocked me, so damn direct
but I wasn't gonna complain. I wasn't sure if he was interested or
subtly taunting a guy he assumed was some western slut - stereotypes
kind of figure loud in first meetings. 'Fuck it' I thought to myself
I'll play along either way. "I was just about to but he had to leave"
"Did you touch his arse?" "Yeah, I got my hand down the back of his
trousers" This was crap, I didn't get that far but the glint in
Ahmed's eyes made a few lies worth it.
"Then what did you do?" "I
rubbed one of his arse cheeks and ran my finger along the edge of his
crack" "This men's arse is like a cunt to you?"
"Yep. Anything you
do with a cunt I do with a man's arse"
By now Ahmed wasn't bothered by
the traffic, shifting his thighs on the beaded seat cover, I could
tell he was trying to adjust his own stiffening cock. Raising my hips
slightly I made it clear that I was enjoying this conversation, my
dick had stiffened at an awkward angle so the tent in my trousers was
uncomfortable but for the moment I decided not to use my hand to
adjust it.
"Do you lick these men's arse?"
"Only if they're clean, if
they are I kiss their puckered hole"
At the same time we adjusted our
cocks as they strained against the fabric of our trousers. I didn't
know how far Ahmed would want to take this but I was going to push it
as much as I could.
"Do you let them finger your hole?"
"If they lick it first, yeah I do"
"Do you put your finger in their arse?"
"Yeah, I..."
The loud prolonged beeping horn of the car behind us made it
clear that the traffic was moving. With his stiff cock tenting his
black trousers Ahmed momentarily concentrated on the road, coming up
to an intersection we turned left and headed towards one of the main
roads that wove through the quieter commercial part of town. Their
was few cars on these roads so I could divert Ahmend's
attention. Leaning over to him I tentatively rubbed at the rock solid
bulge in his trousers, with a throaty moan he shifted his crotch so it
pressed against the palm of my hand. Getting my hand under his
slightly overhanging stomach I undid his belt and pulled his zipper
down, lifting his arse out of his chair allowed me to pull his
trousers down until they rested on his thick, dark and hairy
thighs. His white y-front briefs strained and jutted into the air,
through the slightly damp fabric I rubbed firmly on his meaty, heavy
erection, the outline of the head of his cock was clearly visible
through the fabric.
Rubbing my thumb on the growing wet spot in the
fabric over his piss slit I used my other hand to slide down his back
until the tips brushed against the waistband of his briefs. Once again
Ahmed lifted his heavy arse out of his seat, I guided my hand down the
back of his briefs and rubbed at the light covering of course hair
that trailed down his spine into his arse crack.
Ahmed groaned deeply
as my fingers began to journey down his sweaty arse crack, the clammy
sweat between his cheeks spread across my palm...
"Oaahh...Ahmed, I wanna lick ya' arse..."
With a sudden swerve of the cab Ahmed drove
down a side street between two darkened office blocks, gliding into a
an empty car park we jolted to a stop. Ahmed kicked off his shoes,
roughly took his trousers off then in one quick clumsy move he lent
over the drivers seat, pushed his arse towards my face and lifting the
shirt tail of his blue cab uniform offered his arse to me. His heavy
arse was still covered by his large white y-fronts, two heavy mounds
of flesh just inches from my face, by the light from the car park it
wasn't hard to make out the dampness along the fabric over his
crack. Hooking my fingers under his waistband I slid his briefs down
to reveal two dark arse cheeks, the heady, musky aroma filled my
nostrils as I breathed deep to experience the smell of a man's arse.
Coarse hair lightly covered the cheeks, growing thicker along his
crack I noticed that it thinned out closer to his puckered hole.
Ahmed had began to slowly but strongly pound his stiff cock and rub it
into the beaded seat cover...
"You lick my hole now"
As he said these
words his slightly puffy arse lips twitched and contracted, spreading
each hand over an arse cheek I lowered my face into the steamy, sweaty
crevice. The clean, musky spiciness of his crack got me blinking my
eye's trying to focus on the beauty of this Arab arse, lowering my
lips onto the hole, the puckering arse lips met mine and I ground them
into his hole.
Ahmed's whole body jumped forward in ecstasy, the cab
filled with the sounds of his groans and deep guttural sighs as I
wiped my lips across this hidden opening, they soon became moist from
the lust fuelled sweat that poured from Ahmed's skin. The dark hairs
along his crack rasped against my cheeks as I began to push my tongue
onto his hole, the clean exotic taste flowed through my body as my
tongue slid across the top of the twitching flesh. Making small jabs
of my tongue I managed to easily get my tongue past his arse ring
until the hot muscle of his bowels squeezed tightly against this
intruding tongue, pumping quickly I managed to work up spit which I
pushed over my lips onto Ahmed's hole.
Pushing it into his chute I
could feel it relax and soften...
"Oh man...oh man....ooahhh...lick me
out...eat me...."
Bringing my finger closer to his hole I took a
couple of sloppy licks until they glistened with spit, resting my
middle finger against his arse lips I began to push it against his
hole....
"Ahmed...push out...push out"
Ahmed got the message and his
arse lips grew and opened slightly, welcoming my finger as I rammed
and burrowed into the warm, softness of his arse. With every thrust
of my finger Ahmed's head rose in a grunt, pushing his arse closer to
me I knew he wanted more so I slipped the second finger past his ring
into the depth of his bowels.
"You fuck my arse. You fuck me" Pulling
my two fingers out of Ahmed's moist, smooth hole I wiped them on his
slowly humping arse cheeks. Fumbling wildly at my zipper I wrenched
my trousers down and hoisted my rock hard cock from out of my briefs,
Ahmed looked back and smiled lustfully as he saw my circumcised cock
head jutting out from my fist. I spat and dribbled onto my palm and
slathered my cock shaft until it glistened in the street lights. Ahmed
reached back and pulled his arse cheeks apart, strained his arse so it
opened and contracted greedily, guiding my cock head onto his hole his
twitching arse lips seemed to want to suck my shaft into his hot Arab
tunnel.
Placing the head onto his opening, I leaned forward, grab
Ahmed's shoulder and pulled myself hard against his body, my cock head
initially strained and pushed against the hole. Ahmed let out a groan
of pain, lust and desire, grunting like an animal my cock head popped
past his arse opening muscle then quickly I slid into his body,
inching my way up his hole I watched as my cock shaft sunk between the
dark hairs of this beautiful Arab. Riding and humping his body my cock
prodded against the warm bowel muscles, digging deep into his guts as
he pummeled at his cock, Ahemd's groans and grunts grew louder and
faster my heavy pale thighs slapped sweatily against his upturned arse
cheeks. The heat and musky aroma of cock digging into a man's arse
rose up from our bodies and filled the cab the unmistakable smell of
men's sweat.
"Uh...huh...huh..." I could tell Ahmeds was close and
from the way my taught shrunken balls nestled between his cheeks I
knew I was close to. Deep inside his arse I felt the head of my cock
tingle and harden even more...."ah...ah...Ahmed....I'm
close....man....ah" With a glistening wet brow Ahmed looked over his
shoulders into my eye's, glassy with lust he asked me to cum on his
back..."blow your cum...on...my shirt....huh....huh". I was close. I
was close....this fuckin' hot arab
arse...."whoa...whoa...whoa".
Suddenly Ahmed's whole body started to
shake and buck "o...o...o...huh...huh..huh...huhhhhhh" His cumming
cock blew his load hard against the seat....yanking my cock from his
hole I had just enough time to start pumping at the greasy
shaft...."ah...ah...ahh...ah...ahhh" ribbons of white cum shot out of
my piss slit, splattering wildly across Ahmed's back it wasn't long
before the blue fabric was coated in wild, wet strings of cum, soaking
into the fabric his shirt clung to his body as the sweat and the cum
plastered his uniform...still holding my slimy, arse sweat covered
cock I grabbed at Ahmed's shirt tail and wiped the softening shaft
clean...leaning forward into his wet back we both took long deep
breaths of satisfaction. Ahmed's heavy body heaved under mine until
our breathing was in unison....I did end up in the right place
tonight.
can only play media files with DMR controls on this box
So, what's the point in buying this then?
Buying appliances that don't allow the people to exercise their right to fair use only encourages the corporate shitheads to push more unconstitutional legislation like DMCA and SSSCA.
Slashdot Mirror
Bestraffe mich!
Goddamn that accent makes me hot!
As the original poster said: "Take away Gnome and KDE". If you don't have graphical interface using LaTeX is hell.
What you meant was: "Pay for our non-functional/non-free software until your ass bleeds and then pay us some more!"
Wake the fuck up. Squatting on information is criminal. Just like people are getting judged for torture and genocide (which were tolerated once) now, the proponents of proprietary standards and commercial software are going to get it in their ass one day. Mark my words, my friend.
Is it a cultural thing? I'm European and find sarcasm a most effective and acceptable way of communicating and cynicism is the way of life.
Yet in America sarcasm and cynicism are viewed as something socially abhorrent. I'm confused.
If you mean it's getting to become obsolete, then you're right.
The "bastardised subset" by Microsoft is well on its way of becoming the real MPEG-4.
Face it.
Galeon shows them just fine.
Ever tried writing stuff with LaTeX without being able to preview the layout? You're going to end up killing lots of trees...
You're absolutely right. Most of the "Linux for Office" freaks don't realise that Unix applications simply aren't ready for prime-time because it takes goddamn lot of time to learn to use the apps in the first place.
I like to hack on my own time. At home I've got a dual AMD and Sun Sparc to play with.
However, when I want to get things done at work I...
Jesus Christ! Do American versions of cellphones suck that much?
Ever heard of inexpensive roaming, Li-ion batteries and hands-free options?
You see with people inventing names such as the PR-disaster "Carnivore", Orwellian "Office of Homeland Security" and just absurd "Patriot Act", it's hard to be original.
This can only mean that it's a question of time when Israel will start her own version of the 1940s "final solution". What the heck? They're already occupying land and torturing men, women and children. Why not go ahead with a full fledged genocide while you're at it?
The mess the genocidal Sharon has single-handedly made of the peace process would be funny if people weren't acually dying because of it.
Patriotism is a virtue of the vicuous
Yet another Free Software perversion unleashed upon the unsuspecting population. When will it end?!
Microsoft programs are full of shit.
This came to me in a flash today, and perhaps it bears discussion.
.001rh, worldwide.
I was looking for news my wife mentioned, when the headline page came
up "232 KILLED IN TRAIN DISASTER!!!" I almost choked. What a huge
total! Then, as the story slowly loaded, I saw the simple explanation:
it was in India. Suddenly, I thought, "hmm, less than a thousand dead.
Must have just been all the dots riding on the roof that fell off."
Still, the initial effect of the number got me thinking. It is a given
that dead people have different values around the world; if 10,000
Floridans died in a hurricane, it would be staggering--but in
Pakistan, the headline would just be "Heavy Rains Continue".
Do we need a standard of human value like currency exchange rates to
standardize the reporting? I came up with the dull, prosaic "Relative
Human Value" index. I don't really like the name, but I think the idea
is sound.
First, we need a standard. At first, I thought of using a US citizen
as 1.0, but then realized that scale would require scientific notation
for countries in Africa. So, I decided given GMT and all, perhaps we
should use a typical Englishman. But that would only be slightly
better in terms of scaling.
Maybe we ought to use a typical Frenchman, thus keeping the range down
to a manageable 100rh to
But it's late, and I have no time to calculate the relative values
myself. I assume population density, per capita income, infant
mortality rate, and tendency for local horrendous acts of Glub would
be primary factors. I leave that for discussion.
Anyway, I just think it would be less jarring to read "Train Wreck:
Death Toll 1.75rh".
MAN STABS WIFE AND COMMITS CHAINSAW SUICIDE
(Rev, Syd News Report)
MAYFIELD HEIGHTS, OH: A few days ago, fuckin' tuesday or so, some fuckin'
dimshit stabbed the hell out of his wife, and then cut his own fucking head off
with a chainsaw while cops watched.
Ooh, I have a hard on here. The fucking Cleveland Indians can't win a
baseball game, but this fucksoul cuts his own goddamn head off. Karma.
A woman, known only as "Ash", was one of those dim fucking cull cunts who
"love" slithering shits who beat the fuck out of them, as opposed to the creepy
nerds who lust after them in High School.
Last Monday or Tuesday (I lost the fucking article), Ash was enjoying her
usual domestic bliss with boyfriend Timothy Raruick, who was really pissed
because she had been doing shit that, y'know, pissed him off.
So he says "Feed me." and she goes into the kitchen and fixes him a nice bowl
of cereal. Dumb bitch makes it, turns around, and gets a big knife in her chest
for her trouble.
Tim merrily stabs the living shit out of her as she pitifully crawls for it,
creeping towards the door as he stabs her into next tuesday.
Once she'd crawled out the front door, she was able to stagger over to a
neighbor. Luckily, this neighbor had been a nurse in Vietnam, so massive stab
wounds were old hat for her... she bound the wounds and called the cops. (Her
pussy-ass husband was psychologically wounded, however.)
So shortly, a shitload of Mayfield cops appeared, none of them in a good
mood. They quickly descended upon the apartment where Tim was still ranting
about food.
Good part: When the cops closed in on Tim, he picked up a chainsaw, fired it
up, and decapitated himself.
"Ash" is clinging to life at some high-and-mighty Cleveland Clinic, yeah I
hope she pulls though.
Sickeningly though, the state of Ohio paid for Grief Councilors to come out
and comfort the poor wittle cops, who may need a shoulder to cwy on,... awwww.
No offense to the Law Enforcement professionals that read AT, but we all hate
you, and besides, Jesus, I'd HOPE that you could take a chainsaw decapitation.
If not... *sad*
I have this recurring fantasy.
I'm a monkey.
Not a cute monkey mind you, but a strong monkey, a good 45 pound spider
monkey, lean and mean. My limbs are incredibly long, all sinew and tight
muscle. I EAT cute little TV and organ-grinder monkeys. I'm a mean,
wild, strong male spider monkey.
And I wait.
I follow him easily. In the noisy city he can't hear me as I brachiate
through the few trees that line the street outside his spacious condo. I
take to the building facades when necessary, deftly keeping pace with my
quarry, my obsession. The trim black hat is easy to track, not least of
which since his movements are so predictable. Some days I fly ahead,
perching on a cornice to wait for him to catch up. I catch site of him
two blocks away. I watch with growing excitement as he approaches. The
face crystalizes below the hat as he approaches and I sway anxiously as he
gets closer. The round full cheeks, well lined...the small dark
eyes...the short neck...all are seen and quickly passed over as I stare at
the Nose.
Yes, the Nose. The object of my fascination: so large and round, those
huge, hair-rimmed nostrils. I feel my small monkey penis begin to stir.
I scramble around the corner as he passes, staring at the Nose as best I
can. My monkeyhood is definitely rigid now, a burning red lance that begs
me for gratification NOW, but I force myself to go on, following my quarry
up the final block to the condo. I stop, rewarding myself with a few
tentative whacks while he fumbles his keys out and lets himself into the
lobby, heading for the small courtyard within.
The courtyard. It is time.
I scramble up the wall and hurl myself onto the roof, twisting to keep my
turgid monkeymember clear of the stonework and run awkwardly in a
fourlegged crab gait across the asphalt roof to the open courtyard
within. He's just entering now. Crossing the brick walk towards the
private entrance on the other side. And he is alone. I must do it now.
NOW! I throw myself into the air with a shriek, crashing into the big oak
below and thrashing my way down, straight towards him. He starts at my
shrill cry of lust, whirls around in fear and stumbles as he backs away
and he finally SEES me and the eyes go wide as I leap the final distance
and spread my limbs and THUD! I land right on top of him! I slam into his
face staggering him back against the wall as I shriek again and wrap my
spindly arms and legs around his head, digging my nails into his tender
skin as my hips begin their uncommanded gyrations, my burning hot monkey
love-stick beating his face and finally, with a gasp of triumph, it hits
home! My monkey-tool quickly fills the nostril and my slimy monkey pre-cum
lubricates it easily after the first dozen dry thrusts, my shrieks of
pleasure drowning his frantic cries of suprise and alarm. I thrust
harder, HARDER, my primal monkey lust driving me to an ever increasing
frenzy of pure animal nostril fucking.
He falls back against the wall again, his screams muffled by my dense ass
fur and the base of my tail as my swollen balls beat a pounding staccatto
rythymn on his upper lip. His hands flail on my back and sides in a vain
attempt to pry me loose, but I just dig my nails deeper into the back of
his neck. My eyes have long since stopped to register anything as I
mercilessly wail my monkey-club into his nostrils. I switch often, a
dozen quick thrusts to the left, then a dozen more to the right. My furry
asss is a blur and my open mouth drools onto the top of his bald head, the
hat long lost. Faster, Faster, I feel the end, oh god the Nose is so damn
good, no monkey bitch was EVER like this, oh god, I feel it, I feel...
AAAHHHHHH!! I bite down hard as I blast a wad of monkey-gut into the
nostril, feverishly pumping the last of my primate lust into that famous
Nose.
He has stopped struggling, stopped screaming. I withdraw quickly,
launching from his shoulders back to the lower limb of the oak and turn to
see him collapse onto the walkway. His face is a mess. His cheeks are
smeared with blood. It drips off his chin onto his now-crumpled white
shirt. Two wide streams of blood, thinned now with monkey-spunk, run over
his lips and into his mouth. But I really see only the Nose. So
brutalized, it's as red as my now-shrivelled monkey-piston. Battered and
bruised, but still magnificent. I catch my breath, only for a few seconds
though, then I'm off.
Up onto the roof, I am soon lost into the urban jungle to finally rest and
recover from my spent passions. I am content, for now. For now. But
soon enough, I'll be back. To watch, at first. To follow. To admire
that sexiest of all noses. And, eventually, to sate my all-encompassing
monkey-lust. It is always this way, but he is always there. He always
knows I'm coming back. I think, sometimes, that he waits with the same
growing excitement as I do...
Gov. Bush Admits to "Squicking" as Youth
By Charles McCunnilingus
CNN.com Writer
(CNN) -- Texas Governor George W. Bush has confirmed Democratic charges
that in his youth, he "squicked" on at least two occasions.
"Squicking", a term unfamiliar to many Americans, involves creating a hole
in the skull of a sexual partner and inserting the penis into the hole for
sexual gratification.
At the time of the alleged incidents, in 1976, there were no state laws
prohibiting the practice. A judge ruled in 1979 that the Texas statute
prohibiting sodomy did not apply to squicking as no anal contact was
involved.
A subdued Governor Bush admitted to the charges during a press conference
early Wednesday. When asked if he had ever squicked a male friend, he was
unclear. "I don't think so. Folks, that was 24 years ago," he said. "I'm
not proud of it."
A unidentified spokesperson for Vice President Al Gore's presidential
campaign, speaking on the condition of anonymity, denied responsibility
for the leak. "Hey, I don't care what he does in his spare time," the
person stated. "He prolly f---s cows anyway so this is no big deal."
Shortly after the press conference, election officials in Wisconsin,
Jeffrey Dahmer's home state, announced that the too-close-to-call vote
count had gone sharply in Bush's direction.
Woke up an hour ago with an INCREDIBLE cramping in the waist area. At
first it was a real grunt and groan to try to shit as it felt like
semi-hardened concrete (my sick evil brain just *had* to conjure up
images of the "concrete impatced colon to keep me company during my
ordeal), but once I got the rocks out, things went more smoothly, and
the pain subsided.
After wiping off, I leave the royal chamber, but within a few moments, I
start to feel the cramping again, and it's back in I go for another shat.
Several times this has been going on. I shat. I feel better. I wait a
bit in case of a relapse. I get up after no warning signs, and no sooner
am I ten feet away from the bathroom door, I get the cramping once more
and it's deja vu all over again.
By the sixth time, I feel like I'm shitting battery acid. There's no
more matter in my colon, so why the fuck does it want to cramp and shit
some more. Fucking goddammed organ!!
Last night at the gym, after a regular workout, we did a
little sparring. We didn't stop to put on headgear, cups,
or mouthpieces, so we were only throwing punches to the
body. The group was unusually estrogen-rich, and I wound up
trading punches with three different women.
If you try to punch a woman between the collar and waistband
with 16 oz gloves you can't help but hit tits. The fact
that the tits are part of the legitimate target area doesn't
matter. I can't bring myself to hit them.
I find my inhibitions very troubling. The women I sparred
with certainly weren't concerned about throwing punches at
*me*. Why can't I fight back?
I gave this a lot of thought and I've come to the
realization that I have, hard-wired into my brain, certain
behavior regulators. Sorta like Asimov's Three Laws of
Robotics. I call them MikeM's Three Laws of Tits:
1. Do not harm tits, nor through inaction allow tits to
come to harm.
2. Obey all orders given by tits, unless they conflict with
the first law.
3. Protect yourself, unless doing so conflicts with the
first or second law.
How do I rid myself of these laws? I want to be a better
boxer. I want to be able to punch bags. Suggestions?
Ok, here ya go: Forget straight razor for obvious reasons. Drop the
idea of the beard trimmer. The cutting head can actually snag the
folds of your scrote and nick it quite painfully. Shaving "lotions"
and after shaves have one thing in common; alcohol. Dip your nads in
alcohol and report back. You will quickly see why this is a Bad Idea.
What you really need, aside from determination and patience, is a
couple of plain ol' disposable razors (a couple because they do tend
to dull rather quickly on the coarser hair) and baby oil or an alcohol
free hand creme (like Jergens).
Use your usual lathering agent, although I've found the stuff that you
squeeze from a tube and have to froth with a brush works excellent,
and lather your jewel sac. Here's the fun part, grab yer scrote where
it meets the base of your choad and squeeze to tighten the nuts in
your sac. Get a good grip, you won't damage anything, and get the skin
taut. Take your razor, lay it gently on the skin and stroke lightly
without applying too much downward pressure, preferably against the
grain of growth. Use short strokes. Repeat and change razors as
necessary. *Don't* try to rush it.
If you have unusually long ball hairs, it's advised you take the extra
time to trim 'em down *carefully* with scissors to simplify things.
The reason you want the skin tight, is so that the razor won't find
purchase within the nooks and crannies often found in the usual scrote
and make you wince with the nicks and cuts you'll get otherwise.
After your sac is as smooth as you like it, rince off the excess
lather with a hot towel, then apply your creme/lotion really well,
allow to absorb for a short amount of time, wipe away excess and
admire. Let your fuck-mate admire. Call your neighbours to admire.
Copyright (C) 2001 CmdrTaco
Permission is granted to copy, distribute and/or modify this document under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.1 or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation
With one hand in my pocket I was rubbing my hardon and with the other I was trying to flag down a cab, all up it'd been a lousy night.
Being 29 years old I made a point to avoid the clubs but I didn't mind the pubs. I didn't have the kind of body gay guys seem to go for, the muscle in my arms and legs was their but it didn't have that self-consciousness about it, it was just everyday muscle, nothing special and lacking any real definition due to the ever increasing body fat. I didn't give a fuck really, I had pale white skin and maybe too much hair in some places and not enough in others but I always thought I wasn't that bad to look at, besides I was a decent kind of guy so if that was a problem well, fuck em'. At least that's what my geek compound friends and other Slashdot folk tend to tell me.
Feeling light headed from the beers I'd drank at the pub I'd let my friend Jon grope me between two cars in the parking lot, both of us had worked up decent stiff poles in our trousers and it'd seemed only natural to make our way back to my flat across town. I was just about to suggest we make a move when a woman's voice yelled out across the lot 'Jon, we've gotta go NOW! I know you're out there. I just hope you're not molesting some misunderstood geek guy 'cos I sure as hell am not gonna bail you out this time!'. Turned out Jon had been drinking with his sister and two friends at a pub nearby and his sister had met an ex-boyfriend and started carrying on about some bullshit in their past. I really didn't give a fuck about all that but Jon reluctantly said he had to go because of some fuckin' reason or other. By then it was getting onto 2:00 a.m, the bars were closing up and I couldn't handle going to a club so with my hardon straining against the fly of my khaki's I made my way out to the street and started searching for a cab. Absentmindedly I rubbed my cock through the lining of my pockets and ran through my mind the things I'd hoped to be doing with that guy Jon before the whole plan was shot to hell by his sister.
After 15 minutes I hadn't seen one cab that wasn't booked or full, the frustration was building up in me and so all I wanted to do was get home and jack off as a release. As I was trying to see through the traffic if the cab half a block down was trying to do a U-turn towards me another cab must've seen my hand raised as it glided to a stop next to me. The driver leant forward and looked at me "where you going?" He'd driven up so fast I hadn't seen him so with a jerk of my arm I pulled my hand out of my pocket, leaning forward to hide the rise in my trousers I gave him my address. With a barely noticeable glance at my crotch the driver nodded his head and told me to get in. "You very lucky, I just start work for tonight. You my first fare" "Yeah, great. I've been trying for twenty minutes" We'd pulled out into the street but in this part of town, at this time of night it wasn't long before we ground to a halt in the heavy traffic. The driver was an Arab guy, the ID on the dash gave his name as Ahmed, from the street lights I could see he was early to mid thirties, even so his moustache and unshaven face had the light covering I'd usually associate with a younger guy. As he looked around us and muttered about the traffic I had a chance to see his face, his full looking lips had a slight glint of saliva on them, his skin was dark and I could just make out some slight old acne scars - I try to avoid generalising but his nose, eyebrows and the thick but cut short black curly hair were what I'd call Arab looking.
He wasn't skinny, I wouldn't call him fat but he was solid, it was obvious someone must of fed him well and regularly. He was a good looking guy but as with most middle eastern blokes I always assume they're straight so I turned and looked out the opposite window. A few times he half heartedly blew the cabs horn but as we inched along the crowded street it soon became obvious to him that no matter what we weren't going anywhere in a hurry. With a barely audible sigh he relaxed in his seat and accepted the wait. As I looked out the window at the other cars and pedestrians I could feel the driver looking at me, with a small cough I shifted in my seat and pretended not to know. I wasn't in a talking mood and I didn't wanna hear his gripes about the traffic.
"Where you been tonight?" he asked.
"Maloney's". Looking at him as he nodded his head I guessed he knew that this pub got alot of gay men in it. "Now you go home alone"
"Yeah. It was going well but he had to leave" Making it known that it was men I was into I felt my flaccid cock shift slightly in my briefs.
"Did you touch his cock?" This question shocked me, so damn direct but I wasn't gonna complain. I wasn't sure if he was interested or subtly taunting a guy he assumed was some western slut - stereotypes kind of figure loud in first meetings. 'Fuck it' I thought to myself I'll play along either way. "I was just about to but he had to leave"
"Did you touch his arse?" "Yeah, I got my hand down the back of his trousers" This was crap, I didn't get that far but the glint in Ahmed's eyes made a few lies worth it.
"Then what did you do?" "I rubbed one of his arse cheeks and ran my finger along the edge of his crack" "This men's arse is like a cunt to you?"
"Yep. Anything you do with a cunt I do with a man's arse"
By now Ahmed wasn't bothered by the traffic, shifting his thighs on the beaded seat cover, I could tell he was trying to adjust his own stiffening cock. Raising my hips slightly I made it clear that I was enjoying this conversation, my dick had stiffened at an awkward angle so the tent in my trousers was uncomfortable but for the moment I decided not to use my hand to adjust it.
"Do you lick these men's arse?"
"Only if they're clean, if they are I kiss their puckered hole"
At the same time we adjusted our cocks as they strained against the fabric of our trousers. I didn't know how far Ahmed would want to take this but I was going to push it as much as I could.
"Do you let them finger your hole?"
"If they lick it first, yeah I do"
"Do you put your finger in their arse?"
"Yeah, I..."
The loud prolonged beeping horn of the car behind us made it clear that the traffic was moving. With his stiff cock tenting his black trousers Ahmed momentarily concentrated on the road, coming up to an intersection we turned left and headed towards one of the main roads that wove through the quieter commercial part of town. Their was few cars on these roads so I could divert Ahmend's attention. Leaning over to him I tentatively rubbed at the rock solid bulge in his trousers, with a throaty moan he shifted his crotch so it pressed against the palm of my hand. Getting my hand under his slightly overhanging stomach I undid his belt and pulled his zipper down, lifting his arse out of his chair allowed me to pull his trousers down until they rested on his thick, dark and hairy thighs. His white y-front briefs strained and jutted into the air, through the slightly damp fabric I rubbed firmly on his meaty, heavy erection, the outline of the head of his cock was clearly visible through the fabric.
Rubbing my thumb on the growing wet spot in the fabric over his piss slit I used my other hand to slide down his back until the tips brushed against the waistband of his briefs. Once again Ahmed lifted his heavy arse out of his seat, I guided my hand down the back of his briefs and rubbed at the light covering of course hair that trailed down his spine into his arse crack.
Ahmed groaned deeply as my fingers began to journey down his sweaty arse crack, the clammy sweat between his cheeks spread across my palm...
"Oaahh...Ahmed, I wanna lick ya' arse..."
With a sudden swerve of the cab Ahmed drove down a side street between two darkened office blocks, gliding into a an empty car park we jolted to a stop. Ahmed kicked off his shoes, roughly took his trousers off then in one quick clumsy move he lent over the drivers seat, pushed his arse towards my face and lifting the shirt tail of his blue cab uniform offered his arse to me. His heavy arse was still covered by his large white y-fronts, two heavy mounds of flesh just inches from my face, by the light from the car park it wasn't hard to make out the dampness along the fabric over his crack. Hooking my fingers under his waistband I slid his briefs down to reveal two dark arse cheeks, the heady, musky aroma filled my nostrils as I breathed deep to experience the smell of a man's arse. Coarse hair lightly covered the cheeks, growing thicker along his crack I noticed that it thinned out closer to his puckered hole. Ahmed had began to slowly but strongly pound his stiff cock and rub it into the beaded seat cover...
"You lick my hole now"
As he said these words his slightly puffy arse lips twitched and contracted, spreading each hand over an arse cheek I lowered my face into the steamy, sweaty crevice. The clean, musky spiciness of his crack got me blinking my eye's trying to focus on the beauty of this Arab arse, lowering my lips onto the hole, the puckering arse lips met mine and I ground them into his hole.
Ahmed's whole body jumped forward in ecstasy, the cab filled with the sounds of his groans and deep guttural sighs as I wiped my lips across this hidden opening, they soon became moist from the lust fuelled sweat that poured from Ahmed's skin. The dark hairs along his crack rasped against my cheeks as I began to push my tongue onto his hole, the clean exotic taste flowed through my body as my tongue slid across the top of the twitching flesh. Making small jabs of my tongue I managed to easily get my tongue past his arse ring until the hot muscle of his bowels squeezed tightly against this intruding tongue, pumping quickly I managed to work up spit which I pushed over my lips onto Ahmed's hole. Pushing it into his chute I could feel it relax and soften...
"Oh man...oh man....ooahhh...lick me out...eat me...."
Bringing my finger closer to his hole I took a couple of sloppy licks until they glistened with spit, resting my middle finger against his arse lips I began to push it against his hole....
"Ahmed...push out...push out"
Ahmed got the message and his arse lips grew and opened slightly, welcoming my finger as I rammed and burrowed into the warm, softness of his arse. With every thrust of my finger Ahmed's head rose in a grunt, pushing his arse closer to me I knew he wanted more so I slipped the second finger past his ring into the depth of his bowels.
"You fuck my arse. You fuck me" Pulling my two fingers out of Ahmed's moist, smooth hole I wiped them on his slowly humping arse cheeks. Fumbling wildly at my zipper I wrenched my trousers down and hoisted my rock hard cock from out of my briefs, Ahmed looked back and smiled lustfully as he saw my circumcised cock head jutting out from my fist. I spat and dribbled onto my palm and slathered my cock shaft until it glistened in the street lights. Ahmed reached back and pulled his arse cheeks apart, strained his arse so it opened and contracted greedily, guiding my cock head onto his hole his twitching arse lips seemed to want to suck my shaft into his hot Arab tunnel.
Placing the head onto his opening, I leaned forward, grab Ahmed's shoulder and pulled myself hard against his body, my cock head initially strained and pushed against the hole. Ahmed let out a groan of pain, lust and desire, grunting like an animal my cock head popped past his arse opening muscle then quickly I slid into his body, inching my way up his hole I watched as my cock shaft sunk between the dark hairs of this beautiful Arab. Riding and humping his body my cock prodded against the warm bowel muscles, digging deep into his guts as he pummeled at his cock, Ahemd's groans and grunts grew louder and faster my heavy pale thighs slapped sweatily against his upturned arse cheeks. The heat and musky aroma of cock digging into a man's arse rose up from our bodies and filled the cab the unmistakable smell of men's sweat.
"Uh...huh...huh..." I could tell Ahmeds was close and from the way my taught shrunken balls nestled between his cheeks I knew I was close to. Deep inside his arse I felt the head of my cock tingle and harden even more...."ah...ah...Ahmed....I'm close....man....ah" With a glistening wet brow Ahmed looked over his shoulders into my eye's, glassy with lust he asked me to cum on his back..."blow your cum...on...my shirt....huh....huh". I was close. I was close....this fuckin' hot arab arse...."whoa...whoa...whoa".
Suddenly Ahmed's whole body started to shake and buck "o...o...o...huh...huh..huh...huhhhhhh" His cumming cock blew his load hard against the seat....yanking my cock from his hole I had just enough time to start pumping at the greasy shaft...."ah...ah...ahh...ah...ahhh" ribbons of white cum shot out of my piss slit, splattering wildly across Ahmed's back it wasn't long before the blue fabric was coated in wild, wet strings of cum, soaking into the fabric his shirt clung to his body as the sweat and the cum plastered his uniform...still holding my slimy, arse sweat covered cock I grabbed at Ahmed's shirt tail and wiped the softening shaft clean...leaning forward into his wet back we both took long deep breaths of satisfaction. Ahmed's heavy body heaved under mine until our breathing was in unison....I did end up in the right place tonight.
So, what's the point in buying this then?
Buying appliances that don't allow the people to exercise their right to fair use only encourages the corporate shitheads to push more unconstitutional legislation like DMCA and SSSCA.