Making five billion blood bags fuel one man's penisey PASSION: today's TERRIBLE advice
FB’s “TERRIBLE advice” group nourishes GLORIOUS creative chaos. It’s funky. It’s fab. It ups life’s Good Bits. Do try some:
Susan asks
I missed an opportunity to have s3xx0rs with my fwb, and now I’m h0rny. What do?
My answer
Here’s a scheme I find works wonders. I’ve got no idea what gender and/or sexual organ(s) your FWB is/has/owns, but to simplify this answer I’ll assume he’s male and/or penised:
First, launch at your man a vast torrid torrent of texts, messages, imagery, flirting, salaciousness. Make them so hawt, so steamy, so volcanically passionate, that his erection sprouts not to the mere global average of 5.14 inches, but instead pierces his undies, pants, spacesuits, building walls, vehicle hulls, and soars on a scorching airborne voyage over your home city.
Naturally include a compass bearing in one of your texts to ensure he’s facing in exactly your direction, wherever you are. Then calibrate your texts’ horniness precisely enough that his erection extends two metres in through your bedroom window ... and halts. It’ll be like St. Louis, Missouri’s Gateway Arch all over again. It’ll be awesome.
Second, depending how far apart you are and how much blood volume his erection demands, you may need to prank-call his city’s emergency services and inform them there’s been a horrible accident and could they please bring five billion blood bags? Where, they ask? Just follow that glorious flesh obelisk over there down to its base like it’s a rainbow-and-leprechaun.
Third, send your beloved a second torrent of message-pairings: alternately froth him up into yet more ecstatic squirming, then admonish him just a tad, then ecstasy, admonishment, back and forth, again and again, to adjust his horniness levels and erection length and thus a handy facsimile of thrusting. If he texts you asking why he can’t just thrust conventionally, tell him in your experience it’s impossible to maintain one’s usual level of thrusting-skill and guzzle all that delish paramedic blood. It’s like rubbing your tummy and patting your head, you just diffuse your concentrations too widely. So get drinking, bae.
Sorted, job done. Now simply recline back on your bed and let the good times roll.
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2022/5/making-five-billion-blood-bags-fuel-one-mans-penisey-passion-todays-terrible-advice
YOUR TURN
Fancy some boutique TERRIBLE advice of your own? Comment your question or dilemma, and I’ll magic up something deliciously wicked to put a smile on your face, just for you.
Further Reading: The SEXYVERSE NOVELS
IN A WORLD where wars are fought with romance and flirting and delicious erotic TENSION, the rivalries throbbing between history’s Great Powers have become a BUTTLOAD more bubbly, with fewer hideous massacres of musket and cannon, and OODLES more frisky cunnilingus contests:
The Sex Commandos Thwart The Third Vaginal Apocalypse
Part One: The Knights Of Raw Phwoar
Might Earth's free nations drown under terrifying tornadoes of French femme-foam? Like hell, shout Britain's Royal Marines Sex Commandos. Let's assassinate France's Imperatrix Brigitte Bardot! Come on. What's the worst that could happen?
Part Two: The Soviet Sluts Superb
Turns out out-flirting Imperatrix Bardot is like trying to wank off Mt. Blanc when it's wanking you back. Plan B: skedaddle, regroup, out-flirt the entirety of France and get loads more practice, then it's stealthy-sneaky Round Two or bust.
Part Three: The Cervical Supremacy
Turns out flirting with every ladybro Rambo in France produces Rivals and Frenemies and Jilted Waifus galore. Smashing fun, but utter Kryptonite for Imperial kill-plans. Like, ever tried noshing off a world leader whilst a billion fanb0is fondle your buttocks? Want to? Read on!
Part Four: The Praetorian Prostitutes
The game's up! The irresistible force of fanb0i-fondlemania has headbutted the immovable object of a gazillion furious Paris cops. They too thirst for Sex Commando patoot. Crunch time. Either launch one final rocket-strike against Bardot and France, or Earth's free nations forever perish.
Part Five: [soon, baby]
Crave more bullshit laughs? Click these and enjoy these and your appetites will be SATISFIED. And it’ll make me incredibly happy. You put yummy in my tummy, you know that?