Post by Joey Flash on Feb 12, 2016 19:43:07 GMT -5
Dear Diary
6th February 2016 – 19:04
Fucking psyched for tonight. First night out in months, taking Rebecca though so will have to bat away all the female attention. Sigh. Looking forward to getting my groove on. PARTY TIME MOTHERFUCKERS.
7th February 2016 – 04:53
Oh…my…god.
8th February 2016 - 13:05
Okay so I should probably talk about this. I guess this is the only place I can properly do it, so here goes. So I don’t know how to properly explain it but...I met a man last night. Well, met is a strong word. Okay so like, the closest thing I can relate it to is in True Blood where Sookie enters Fangtasia for the first time and as she sees Eric on the throne for the first time the whole world just slows down.
![]()
The pulsing combination of masculinity, beauty and power just radiates across the whole room and falls directly on you. Well, as I walked in I didn’t think anything of it. The place was dark and dank, nothing to write home about. My hopes and dreams of a fun night were slipping away as I scanned the room looking for people of interest, and then, stood like a titan, an Adonis, a God amongst his servants I saw…him.
![]()
I couldn’t approach him of course. How could I? Seeing him talking to four, no it might have been five women who looked like they could be models, what could I say?
‘Hi I’m Chris and you look pretty cool (I would try to downplay it, but the rivulets of sweat would be running down my back at a pace that would make Usain Bolt jealous) wanna have a drink?’
I said nothing. So I had to hang with my girlfriend for the night, watching from afar as he had to bat woman after woman away. I will return again tonight. I must find out more about him.
9th February 2016 – 04:40
His name is Michael.
9th February 2016 – 11:30
So, it happened. He was there again and we shared a ‘look’. I don’t know what it meant to him, but I know what it meant to me. I think I’m falling all over again, how can something so wrong feel so right? I asked around about him. I got everything I needed to find him on social media.
Michael Andrew Stelzner. I found his Facebook; I hovered over the ‘Send Friend Request’ button. Would that be too forward? He doesn’t know my name yet but maybe, maybe he is looking for me too? He has a link to his Formspring. I’m going ask him an anonymous question.
‘Hey, remember the look we shared last night? Please answer’.
I hope he answers.
9th February 2016 – 11:35
Five minutes and he still hasn’t answered, is something wrong?
9th Februrary 2016 – 11:50
Okay this is starting to get me upset, have I done something wrong here? Maybe he doesn’t know who it is. Let me send him another question.
‘Please answer, I am the guy with the chinos and nice smile, you gave me a little head nod. Do you remember Mike? Can I call you that?’
9th February 2016 – 12:04
ANSWER YOU FUCKING CUNT!
9th February 2016 – 12:05
I didn’t mean that. If you’re reading this in five years before our wedding Mike, please laugh this off. I didn’t mean it I swear.
9th February 2016 – 17:13
Rebecca is going to stay at her mother’s for a while. She told me I am ‘obsessed’ and need to stop this. Bitch. What does she know? She doesn’t know about anything anymore. I can’t believe I thought I was actually in love with her. She doesn’t know me like he does. I am glad I have the home. Maybe I’ll cook him a meal. I wonder what his favourite is? I bet it’s something classy.
9th February 2016 – 22:05
Getting ready to hit the bar again, I managed to get a little something for tonight. I get it, you’re the nervous one now, I understand you, I know maybe you need a little push to realise what you need…
![]()
I need to get him back here; he needs to enjoy my cooking. I’m doing all this for you. Michael, see you soon xoxoxo
Happy Valentines Day
Michael Stelzner felt his mind fire back into consciousness; his aural senses were assailed first as the broken strains of-
-floated through the airwaves. As his vision phased into clarity he found himself realising his surroundings. A small lounge room with ambient mood lighting was his current situ, as his eyes darted from side to side he could see candles surrounding the entirety of the room creating a flickering surrealism that only served to further draw him deeper into the rabbit hole. He then found his sense of taste, and what he tasted felt like a rolled up pair of socks that had been fixed in place with industrial tape across his mouth. He tried to rip the tape off but found his hands rendered completely immobile, he had been tied to a chair. He tried to scream for help but found no help coming. Only now a new sound was flowing through alongside the mediocre hip hop.
Voice: Be real, it doesn’t matter anywaaaaaaaaaaaay-
The voice was getting louder as Michael was almost fully in control of his faculties and most importantly, his mind. The door rattled for a moment and through the door stepped a man. An unremarkable random guy Michael couldn’t remember ever seeing before in his life entered. His mousy brown swooshy shit hair looked like it belonged in any pseudo-hipster coffee shop in the world. His fashion sense was questionable at best, where did he shop? Abercrombie and Bitch? He felt like screaming at the guy to get rid of the schmedium tee that wrapped a little too tightly around his muscles, no one cares about your five day lifting regime you posing cunt.
The man clapped his hands with joy and approached the helpless Michael.
Man: Hello Mike. It’s so nice to finally meet you for real. I’m Chris, oh…the pleasure is all mine. See Michael, this is the part where if this were fiction and part of my little competitive writing game I play with a bunch of losers, nerds, autists and socially underdeveloped awkward people online I would write a scathing attack that would make you question your own right to live. But this time motherfucker I’m going to compliment you so badly you will be riding high all week from this confidence boost. Oh it’s okay, you wouldn’t understand. Do you write Michael? No matter. It doesn’t matter anyway, right?
Chris giggled. His laugh was as pleasant as getting a cheese grater across your ballsack.
Chris: Anyway, it’s time motherfucker. It’s over, BUDDYBAGS ON DECK! When I first saw you, I can’t lie, I was taken aback. How does someone as manly as you even exist? How does that testosterone flowing through your body not just devolve you into a knuckle dragging silverback, you animal, you beast. You motherfucking MAN. You control every situation you step into with a simple puff of your chest; you could put an end to the Syrian Civil War if they saw a little bowl haired hipster stroll on to the battlefield just saying ‘Chill I got this’.
They say the best things come in small packages, well Mike with you it’s every true. Every…single…inch. You’re what, 5’5? 5’6? Sure you’ve been called many things in your life Muchkin, Oompa Loompa, Titch, Short Stack, Lil Mike da based midget, The amazing Dwarf without a massive fuckin head, but to me you are perfect. You get all the benefits in the world; you have so many advantages in this world. How cheap is life for you? If you shave you can get the child’s fare on a bus, half priced entry to any theme park at the world, swim in the shallow end of a pool and it feel like a bottomless ocean, fuck, you could date a fifteen year old and SHE would be called the cougar, you order a shot in a club and it’s like a tall drink. Shit you even get the latest Jordan’s for damn near half price.
So WHAT if you’re not tall? So WHAT if you’re not average? So WHAT if you’re below average bordering on childlike, I am here to tell you that you are NOT a hobbit, you are a person. You are a real man. Please never feel like you’re a lesser person because you are lacking vertically because oh my god have you won the genetic lottery in every other fucking way possible.
Your family are amazing. You have such a close knit family unit it makes me jealous. I’m such a cunt I’ve been disowned by even my mother but you…you, you have it all. Large house, picket fence, perfect lawn, how idyllic, 2.4 children, it’s all there. Your father has imbued you with every value you could ever hope to pass down to your son. He has provided you with everything you could ever need; you have a rock, a role model, a powerhouse. Mr Stelzner…I bet you’re the type of guy who calls his dad ‘Sir’ aren’t you?
That’s the sort of thing I’d want if I was as regal as Mr Stelzner. Mr Stelzner, you are a credit for raising such an amazing paragon of a child. You are everything he ever wanted as a son, it didn’t matter you weren’t athletic, didn’t play sports, weren’t the most successful with women but damn you were great at everything else.
Your mother is just as amazing. Her skilled parentage is matched only by her beauty, Stiffler’s Mom step aside, Stelzner’s Mom is here….
…I kid, I kid Mikey. How could I have lustful, deep, dark, dirty thoughts about her…how could I…
Chris pauses for a moment in orgasmic thought.
Chris: …how could I have thoughts about wanting to explore every inch of that vagina with my tongue, to lap those juices up like a dog seeing its first dish of water on a hot summer’s day. Do you blame me?! It is the vaginal passage that brought you into this world. I want to taste every inch, I want to enjoy every mouthful of the slippery slide that brought you screaming, no you were a stoic baby I bet, you didn’t cry did you? That brought you silently into the world. I bet you slid out as easy as a perfectly clean shit.
*CONTRACTION…POP*
‘Here is your firstborn son.’
I was a C-Section baby. You have everything I didn’t. I’d love to suckle at your mother’s breast just to experience how you grew up Michael. What turned you into the man you are, what gave you the sharp mind and overwhelming personality, I’m happy I get to use it as an adult, at least I wouldn’t have to run the risk it would stunt my growth.
Now let’s get to the exciting part. Your sister is fucking hot. I’m not talking a six here, I’m talking eight in the body six in the face type shit. That ‘sell your left bollock to hit’ shit. The things I would do to that aren’t even worth talking about….and I just talking about licking your mother out and sucking milk from her tits. You are some beautiful children, the Stelzner siblings.
I mean god damned holy shit as a child I would have enjoyed bath time SO FUCKING MUCH. Rather than being a dirty little ragamuffin I’d be running up to mama like ‘IS IT BATH TIME YET?’ and she’d be all ‘But I’ve only just towelled you down.’ Even now, I’d be doing things that Jaime and Cersei would cringe at; I’d be all OVER that. I hate it Michael, I am so fucking jealous.
How did SHE get all the fucking luck? I dream of my bath time with you. I dream of our ‘The things I do for love’ moment Michael. She might be an eight-six, but god damn you are sevens all across the board like you hit the fucking jackpot. I’d love to give you another seven, I have it right here…
Chris fumbles with his zipper before stopping and giggling.
…oh who am I kidding I can’t lie to you it’s five at best. It’s wonky, it’s curved, it might be disappointing, that’s what I’ve been told before anyway, but god damn it it’s YOURS.
You will have the most beautiful children, I can’t WAIT to meet your daughter. I want to get to know her on a personal level, because seeing the women in your family oh shit it’s only going to get better because OH MY GOD she will turn out to be a STRONG, POWERFUL INDEPENDENT WOMAN WITH A GREAT EDUCATION, SENSIBILITIES AND MORALS with a father figure so strong and loving it will make her feel safe and protected for life.
But you don’t need to worry about your family anymore. They’re out the picture. See, look.
He produces a picture from his pocket.
Chris: This is your family now.
![]()
Chris: You emasculate me in every way Michael. You outstrip me in every single facet of life, health, beauty, success, money, intelligence, charm, wit. I have nothing to offer you in honesty.
I have a lowly degree in Philosophy, you? Political Sciences. What good does discussion about existentialism, nihilism and the absurdist nature of thought, mind and existence get you? Absolutely fuck all. You however can waffle on about like…George Bush and shit. That’s a billion times more relevant in modern society. You could tell me EXACTLY what Bernie Sanders stands for, I mean, I wouldn’t know, because A) I’m uneducated B) I’m British and C) I don’t give a fuck but damn you’d sound impressive as fuck educating my ignorance. I took a rudimentary module or two in your chosen subject and vice versa. Want to know what that means? You are essentially part of me, and I’m essentially part of you. It’s like this was meant to be, our consciousness is melding into one beautiful overmind that spans continents. Do you feel it?
I could sit and listen you talk about books nobody has ever read and films nobody has ever seen for hours. The nonsensical repetitive music with minimal musical theory or instrumental technique you promote seems alien to me, maybe my third eye isn’t open wide enough to understand the intricacies and hidden meanings within the looped synth. Maybe someday I will be versed enough to step beyond Wonderwall and learn more than nine chords. Today is not that day.
You’re the most interesting man in the world; you make the Dos Equis man seem like Dag Riddik in comparison. People don’t like me, but they tolerate you. I’m the big bad bully and you’re the guy that’s swept along for the ride. It’s sad, it makes me cry a little actually. You’re more popular, more liked than me; if we posted the same status on Facebook you’d probably get more likes than me.
To tell you the truth I really AM emasculated by you. If you wanted to fuck Rebecca, if you made any move at all I’d be out of there straight away…shit. I’d be there driving her to your house. I’d beep the horn, drop her off and then hide round the corner. I’d sneak up toward the house to see how things were getting on. I’d be the most willing of cuckolds to you. I’d be clapping and whooping while sneaking in the bushes as you made a move.
You are love. You are life. I could keep this going for HOURS Michael do you understand? I’m going to let you off lightly. I don’t want to give you all five inches straight away. It’s one finger, then a second then I slide my chipolata five incher’s tip inside. This is just my forefinger Michael.
There is MUCH MUCH more to come if you ever want this again.
SEA YOU SOON <3
With this Chris unzips and dickslaps Michael’s head clean off his shoulders killing the poor cunt.
End.
6th February 2016 – 19:04
Fucking psyched for tonight. First night out in months, taking Rebecca though so will have to bat away all the female attention. Sigh. Looking forward to getting my groove on. PARTY TIME MOTHERFUCKERS.
7th February 2016 – 04:53
Oh…my…god.
8th February 2016 - 13:05
Okay so I should probably talk about this. I guess this is the only place I can properly do it, so here goes. So I don’t know how to properly explain it but...I met a man last night. Well, met is a strong word. Okay so like, the closest thing I can relate it to is in True Blood where Sookie enters Fangtasia for the first time and as she sees Eric on the throne for the first time the whole world just slows down.
The pulsing combination of masculinity, beauty and power just radiates across the whole room and falls directly on you. Well, as I walked in I didn’t think anything of it. The place was dark and dank, nothing to write home about. My hopes and dreams of a fun night were slipping away as I scanned the room looking for people of interest, and then, stood like a titan, an Adonis, a God amongst his servants I saw…him.
I couldn’t approach him of course. How could I? Seeing him talking to four, no it might have been five women who looked like they could be models, what could I say?
‘Hi I’m Chris and you look pretty cool (I would try to downplay it, but the rivulets of sweat would be running down my back at a pace that would make Usain Bolt jealous) wanna have a drink?’
I said nothing. So I had to hang with my girlfriend for the night, watching from afar as he had to bat woman after woman away. I will return again tonight. I must find out more about him.
9th February 2016 – 04:40
His name is Michael.
9th February 2016 – 11:30
So, it happened. He was there again and we shared a ‘look’. I don’t know what it meant to him, but I know what it meant to me. I think I’m falling all over again, how can something so wrong feel so right? I asked around about him. I got everything I needed to find him on social media.
Michael Andrew Stelzner. I found his Facebook; I hovered over the ‘Send Friend Request’ button. Would that be too forward? He doesn’t know my name yet but maybe, maybe he is looking for me too? He has a link to his Formspring. I’m going ask him an anonymous question.
‘Hey, remember the look we shared last night? Please answer’.
I hope he answers.
9th February 2016 – 11:35
Five minutes and he still hasn’t answered, is something wrong?
9th Februrary 2016 – 11:50
Okay this is starting to get me upset, have I done something wrong here? Maybe he doesn’t know who it is. Let me send him another question.
‘Please answer, I am the guy with the chinos and nice smile, you gave me a little head nod. Do you remember Mike? Can I call you that?’
9th February 2016 – 12:04
ANSWER YOU FUCKING CUNT!
9th February 2016 – 12:05
I didn’t mean that. If you’re reading this in five years before our wedding Mike, please laugh this off. I didn’t mean it I swear.
9th February 2016 – 17:13
Rebecca is going to stay at her mother’s for a while. She told me I am ‘obsessed’ and need to stop this. Bitch. What does she know? She doesn’t know about anything anymore. I can’t believe I thought I was actually in love with her. She doesn’t know me like he does. I am glad I have the home. Maybe I’ll cook him a meal. I wonder what his favourite is? I bet it’s something classy.
9th February 2016 – 22:05
Getting ready to hit the bar again, I managed to get a little something for tonight. I get it, you’re the nervous one now, I understand you, I know maybe you need a little push to realise what you need…
I need to get him back here; he needs to enjoy my cooking. I’m doing all this for you. Michael, see you soon xoxoxo
Happy Valentines Day
Michael Stelzner felt his mind fire back into consciousness; his aural senses were assailed first as the broken strains of-
-floated through the airwaves. As his vision phased into clarity he found himself realising his surroundings. A small lounge room with ambient mood lighting was his current situ, as his eyes darted from side to side he could see candles surrounding the entirety of the room creating a flickering surrealism that only served to further draw him deeper into the rabbit hole. He then found his sense of taste, and what he tasted felt like a rolled up pair of socks that had been fixed in place with industrial tape across his mouth. He tried to rip the tape off but found his hands rendered completely immobile, he had been tied to a chair. He tried to scream for help but found no help coming. Only now a new sound was flowing through alongside the mediocre hip hop.
Voice: Be real, it doesn’t matter anywaaaaaaaaaaaay-
The voice was getting louder as Michael was almost fully in control of his faculties and most importantly, his mind. The door rattled for a moment and through the door stepped a man. An unremarkable random guy Michael couldn’t remember ever seeing before in his life entered. His mousy brown swooshy shit hair looked like it belonged in any pseudo-hipster coffee shop in the world. His fashion sense was questionable at best, where did he shop? Abercrombie and Bitch? He felt like screaming at the guy to get rid of the schmedium tee that wrapped a little too tightly around his muscles, no one cares about your five day lifting regime you posing cunt.
The man clapped his hands with joy and approached the helpless Michael.
Man: Hello Mike. It’s so nice to finally meet you for real. I’m Chris, oh…the pleasure is all mine. See Michael, this is the part where if this were fiction and part of my little competitive writing game I play with a bunch of losers, nerds, autists and socially underdeveloped awkward people online I would write a scathing attack that would make you question your own right to live. But this time motherfucker I’m going to compliment you so badly you will be riding high all week from this confidence boost. Oh it’s okay, you wouldn’t understand. Do you write Michael? No matter. It doesn’t matter anyway, right?
Chris giggled. His laugh was as pleasant as getting a cheese grater across your ballsack.
Chris: Anyway, it’s time motherfucker. It’s over, BUDDYBAGS ON DECK! When I first saw you, I can’t lie, I was taken aback. How does someone as manly as you even exist? How does that testosterone flowing through your body not just devolve you into a knuckle dragging silverback, you animal, you beast. You motherfucking MAN. You control every situation you step into with a simple puff of your chest; you could put an end to the Syrian Civil War if they saw a little bowl haired hipster stroll on to the battlefield just saying ‘Chill I got this’.
They say the best things come in small packages, well Mike with you it’s every true. Every…single…inch. You’re what, 5’5? 5’6? Sure you’ve been called many things in your life Muchkin, Oompa Loompa, Titch, Short Stack, Lil Mike da based midget, The amazing Dwarf without a massive fuckin head, but to me you are perfect. You get all the benefits in the world; you have so many advantages in this world. How cheap is life for you? If you shave you can get the child’s fare on a bus, half priced entry to any theme park at the world, swim in the shallow end of a pool and it feel like a bottomless ocean, fuck, you could date a fifteen year old and SHE would be called the cougar, you order a shot in a club and it’s like a tall drink. Shit you even get the latest Jordan’s for damn near half price.
So WHAT if you’re not tall? So WHAT if you’re not average? So WHAT if you’re below average bordering on childlike, I am here to tell you that you are NOT a hobbit, you are a person. You are a real man. Please never feel like you’re a lesser person because you are lacking vertically because oh my god have you won the genetic lottery in every other fucking way possible.
Your family are amazing. You have such a close knit family unit it makes me jealous. I’m such a cunt I’ve been disowned by even my mother but you…you, you have it all. Large house, picket fence, perfect lawn, how idyllic, 2.4 children, it’s all there. Your father has imbued you with every value you could ever hope to pass down to your son. He has provided you with everything you could ever need; you have a rock, a role model, a powerhouse. Mr Stelzner…I bet you’re the type of guy who calls his dad ‘Sir’ aren’t you?
That’s the sort of thing I’d want if I was as regal as Mr Stelzner. Mr Stelzner, you are a credit for raising such an amazing paragon of a child. You are everything he ever wanted as a son, it didn’t matter you weren’t athletic, didn’t play sports, weren’t the most successful with women but damn you were great at everything else.
Your mother is just as amazing. Her skilled parentage is matched only by her beauty, Stiffler’s Mom step aside, Stelzner’s Mom is here….
…I kid, I kid Mikey. How could I have lustful, deep, dark, dirty thoughts about her…how could I…
Chris pauses for a moment in orgasmic thought.
Chris: …how could I have thoughts about wanting to explore every inch of that vagina with my tongue, to lap those juices up like a dog seeing its first dish of water on a hot summer’s day. Do you blame me?! It is the vaginal passage that brought you into this world. I want to taste every inch, I want to enjoy every mouthful of the slippery slide that brought you screaming, no you were a stoic baby I bet, you didn’t cry did you? That brought you silently into the world. I bet you slid out as easy as a perfectly clean shit.
*CONTRACTION…POP*
‘Here is your firstborn son.’
I was a C-Section baby. You have everything I didn’t. I’d love to suckle at your mother’s breast just to experience how you grew up Michael. What turned you into the man you are, what gave you the sharp mind and overwhelming personality, I’m happy I get to use it as an adult, at least I wouldn’t have to run the risk it would stunt my growth.
Now let’s get to the exciting part. Your sister is fucking hot. I’m not talking a six here, I’m talking eight in the body six in the face type shit. That ‘sell your left bollock to hit’ shit. The things I would do to that aren’t even worth talking about….and I just talking about licking your mother out and sucking milk from her tits. You are some beautiful children, the Stelzner siblings.
I mean god damned holy shit as a child I would have enjoyed bath time SO FUCKING MUCH. Rather than being a dirty little ragamuffin I’d be running up to mama like ‘IS IT BATH TIME YET?’ and she’d be all ‘But I’ve only just towelled you down.’ Even now, I’d be doing things that Jaime and Cersei would cringe at; I’d be all OVER that. I hate it Michael, I am so fucking jealous.
How did SHE get all the fucking luck? I dream of my bath time with you. I dream of our ‘The things I do for love’ moment Michael. She might be an eight-six, but god damn you are sevens all across the board like you hit the fucking jackpot. I’d love to give you another seven, I have it right here…
Chris fumbles with his zipper before stopping and giggling.
…oh who am I kidding I can’t lie to you it’s five at best. It’s wonky, it’s curved, it might be disappointing, that’s what I’ve been told before anyway, but god damn it it’s YOURS.
You will have the most beautiful children, I can’t WAIT to meet your daughter. I want to get to know her on a personal level, because seeing the women in your family oh shit it’s only going to get better because OH MY GOD she will turn out to be a STRONG, POWERFUL INDEPENDENT WOMAN WITH A GREAT EDUCATION, SENSIBILITIES AND MORALS with a father figure so strong and loving it will make her feel safe and protected for life.
But you don’t need to worry about your family anymore. They’re out the picture. See, look.
He produces a picture from his pocket.
Chris: This is your family now.
Chris: You emasculate me in every way Michael. You outstrip me in every single facet of life, health, beauty, success, money, intelligence, charm, wit. I have nothing to offer you in honesty.
I have a lowly degree in Philosophy, you? Political Sciences. What good does discussion about existentialism, nihilism and the absurdist nature of thought, mind and existence get you? Absolutely fuck all. You however can waffle on about like…George Bush and shit. That’s a billion times more relevant in modern society. You could tell me EXACTLY what Bernie Sanders stands for, I mean, I wouldn’t know, because A) I’m uneducated B) I’m British and C) I don’t give a fuck but damn you’d sound impressive as fuck educating my ignorance. I took a rudimentary module or two in your chosen subject and vice versa. Want to know what that means? You are essentially part of me, and I’m essentially part of you. It’s like this was meant to be, our consciousness is melding into one beautiful overmind that spans continents. Do you feel it?
I could sit and listen you talk about books nobody has ever read and films nobody has ever seen for hours. The nonsensical repetitive music with minimal musical theory or instrumental technique you promote seems alien to me, maybe my third eye isn’t open wide enough to understand the intricacies and hidden meanings within the looped synth. Maybe someday I will be versed enough to step beyond Wonderwall and learn more than nine chords. Today is not that day.
You’re the most interesting man in the world; you make the Dos Equis man seem like Dag Riddik in comparison. People don’t like me, but they tolerate you. I’m the big bad bully and you’re the guy that’s swept along for the ride. It’s sad, it makes me cry a little actually. You’re more popular, more liked than me; if we posted the same status on Facebook you’d probably get more likes than me.
To tell you the truth I really AM emasculated by you. If you wanted to fuck Rebecca, if you made any move at all I’d be out of there straight away…shit. I’d be there driving her to your house. I’d beep the horn, drop her off and then hide round the corner. I’d sneak up toward the house to see how things were getting on. I’d be the most willing of cuckolds to you. I’d be clapping and whooping while sneaking in the bushes as you made a move.
You are love. You are life. I could keep this going for HOURS Michael do you understand? I’m going to let you off lightly. I don’t want to give you all five inches straight away. It’s one finger, then a second then I slide my chipolata five incher’s tip inside. This is just my forefinger Michael.
There is MUCH MUCH more to come if you ever want this again.
SEA YOU SOON <3
With this Chris unzips and dickslaps Michael’s head clean off his shoulders killing the poor cunt.
End.
