Lord Sheraton, all over the floor.

Smut apologies

(via fuckingonthesly)

jerroncouture:

YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSZZZZZ Jesssiieeee

HAAAAA! Also true. Fuck that PETA noise.

*Awaits internet hailstorm of malice* 

(via mangosupasonic)

iwakeupanddream:

Hillary, Madam Secretary if you’re nasty. lol.. 

paragonpaladin:

derych:

gracefullyclumsy:

jumblr-crumblr:

zenarraus:

followthesunfollowthesound:

boxofmiracles:

bekuh:

pernillo:

fablecrack:

sageofmagic:

… Her long hair, still wet from the shower, had been combed down her back in a wet swath. Hilda was sitting on the floor, her round, wet boobs still wet from the shower’s water. She dried off the water with a towel, which then became wet.
Hilda gasped when she saw a reflection in her bedroom mirror: through the slightly open door, she caught a glimpse of the chiseled abs and square jaw of the mysterious stranger who shared her cabin. She stood and spun around, her breasts swinging heavily with the momentum. She grabbed the door and flung it open, revealing shirtless Torolf (which was seriously his name) quivering with desire in the hallway.
Torolf was ashamed at being caught, but his shame made him even hotter – hotter for sex. He stepped into the room, and his bulging abs accidentally smushed into Hilda’s rich chest.
As Hilda’s buttermilk bosoms squished up against his granite abs, Torolf almost had a dick aneurysm.
“Hilda,” Torolf murmured thickly, his throbbing meat wand pressing against Hilda’s warm thighs. “There is a secret I need to not tell you: You are my forbidden desire.”
Hilda had been waiting to hear these words. Her heart was lifted on golden wings and soared toward a radiant sun of perfect joy. She saw herself and Torolf happy together, bathed in the golden light of love. Her snooch got all warm, too.
“Torolf,” Hilda moaned, her lush teats straining with desire. “I need you.”
Torolf, coarse abs pulsing softly in the moonlight, stood silently.
Hilda looked at him expectantly.
“Oh, sorry,” she added. “Torolf, I need you – sexually.”
At hearing those beautiful words, Torolf flexed his rough-hewn abs and Hilda found herself being guided to her soft bed by the sheer force of Torolf’s undulating midsection. She parted her thighs in anticipation, exposing the soft pink petals of her clunge.
Torolf entered her like she was a lottery. His engorged pecker pushed inside her and she felt fulfilled with sexual fulfillment.
Hilda clutched at the bedsheets with lust and ecstasy and her hands. Her spongy love mountains hurled to and fro with each pounding. Her body was like a beautiful flower that was opening and somebody was pushing their dick inside it.
Then Torolf moaned, arched his back, and suffered from dick Parkinson’s. He pumped in all of his hot pearlescent sperms as Hilda spasmed with so many orgasms!
The two lay still for a moment as the stinky scent of lovemaking billowed around the room.
Hilda got out of bed, still shimmering with orgasm. She glowed with contentment, like a cat who ate the cream of the crop.
She walked across the room and picked up her towel, still wet with shower water. “Torolf,” she said softly, “there’s something I have to tell you…”
But her bed was empty.
Torolf was gone, escaped out the bedroom window. In the distance, Hilda heard the fading sound of galloping abs.

Hilda heard the fading sound of galloping abs.

Torolf almost had a dick aneurysm

omg this is worse than any fanfiction I’ve ever read

“Her spongy love mountains hurled to and fro with each pounding”

her pineapple under the sea was quivering with every thrust “oh, patrick” she moaned softly “you are my star”

…One question. 

What.

The fuck.

Is a “clunge.”

Or a “snooch.”

Also, laughing forever at “entered her like she was a lottery.”

Fuck it, laughing forever at the WHOLE DAMN THING HOLY FUCK.

Oh my god what did I just read, I’m laughing so hard. xD

He had “dick Parkinson’s”. Guys, guys, it’s not funny. “Dick Parkinson’s” is an under-recognized but debilitating disease. 

Hilda clutched at the bedsheets with lust and ecstasy and her hands.

and her hands.

and her hands.

What? No foreplay?

“Hilda heard the fading sound of galloping abs.”

 I DON’T USUALLY POST SMUT. BUT I DON’T KNOW IF THIS REALLY QUALIFIES.
 

c-r-e-a-t-i-v-i-t-y:

Barbara Kruger - I Shop, Therefore I Am (Derived from the famous Cogito Ergo Sum: “I Think, Therefore I Am”)

“It is surely ironic that where once we would try to secure our belief systems on foundations gained by the profound activity of philosophizing, we now rely on the trivial and banal-seeming activity of shopping to tell us who and what we are.

We Can scarcely imagine a world without the messages of advertising. But take a moment to think how we would view the world if all advertising suddenly disappeared.”

- This Means This, That Means That: A User’s Guide To Semiotics

I recommend this book to any designers; it’s a fantastic read!

Surely this image isn’t just about the existential emptiness of shopping? There is a theme of transient life and reference to Michelangelo’s ‘The Creation of Adam’ at least, I’m sure of it.

(via twerk4mylord)

tastefullyoffensive:

[via]

(via diagonalice)

zaytouneh:

this is so bad ass.. 

(via mangosupasonic)

churchofcyberpunk:

ro-w:

the cathedral at radio kootwijk former radiostation, the netherlands

—-please for me to be living in it now thank you.

(via bassman5911)

tobia:

Due to insufficient dowry this young girl’s husband lacerated her face with a razor blade. (Gwalior, India)
Ph. Adrian Fisk.

via sacraments.

strong girl 

(via conlucens)

bohemea:

Cindy Sherman - Untitled Film Still #14, 1978

I LOVE THIS TOO MUCH.

(via clutchkicked)

(via kenikila-deactivated20120316)