Reply To: What does the size and shape of your cock- head say about you??

Best Gore Forums Fapping Corner Naked Girls What does the size and shape of your cock- head say about you?? Reply To: What does the size and shape of your cock- head say about you??

Lord Wankdust

Fake science from the outset. Probably created by a Professor Frink-like mind who has never slid his lamb kebab into a fizzing, steaming she-love crevasse. The throbulous bulbous can only create greater air pressure on the way in. This will force any old semen further in. It cannot do anything else. However if in the act-of-love, the man wiggles his pork ramrod around a little it may (after it has forced the old semen further in) create conditions whereby on the down stroke the increased air pressure might escape, and with some deft beef plunger work he might be able to re-seal the passage and that down stroke could create a mild vaccuum (not actually a vaccuum merely a reduced air pressure). This might be enough to reverse syphon the old jizz back down from her egg-tubes but it will not remove it from her fich-box. It will only froth it up like suds I imagine.
But this reverse syphon and frothing is only possible after initial entry and that initial forcing of the old spunk back up her jizz collection vent. It is a moving and inspirational topic which did not elude Scotland’s Greatest 20th Century Poet. C M Grieve (AKA “Hugh MacDiarmid”).

O Wha’s The Bride

O wha’s the bride that carries the bunch
O’ thistles blinterin’ white?
Her cuckold bridegroom little dreids
What he sall ken this nicht.

For closer than gudeman can come
And closer to’r than hersel’,
Wha didna need her maidenheid
Has wrocht his purpose fell.

O wha’s been here afore me, lass,
And hoo did he get in?
A man that deed or I was born
This evil thing has din.

And left, as it were on a corpse,
Your maidenheid to me?
Nae lass, gudeman, sin’ Time began
’S hed ony mair to gie.

But I can gie ye kindness, lad,
And a pair o’ willin’ hands,
And you sall hae my breists like stars,
My limbs like willow wands.

And on my lips ye’ll heed nae mair,
And in my hair forget,
The seed o’ a’ the men that in
My virgin womb ha’e met.

Hugh MacDiarmid