It has been 4 hours since I successfully sucked my own penis. Things are different now. As soon as mouth-to-penis contact was made I felt a shockwave through my body. I have reason to believe I have super strength and telekinesis now.. 3 hours after contact I noticed a van parked on my street but no one has entered or exited the car since its arrival. I fear for my safety, I'm not sure what sort of power I may have stumbled upon but it's possible that the government has found out

i mean based

ma'am you're angry because you read the entirety of someone you've never met's steam profile

So there's a chick in my class I like; unfrotunately im quiet, calculated and intelligent and she likes big dumb jocks. So anyway one day me and her boyfriend are walking among a group of our fellow students when a gang banger appears and threatens with a gun. Her 'big and though' boyfriend instantly freezes and loses the ability to speak. I on the other hand squint my eyes and step forward pulling my katana for judo practise out in one fell swoop . "Go ahead" I say. "The gun is only 400 years old while the sword is the child of many millenia. Do you fancy the odds?" Instantly the gang-banger drops his weapon and runs. My other classmates cheer while her jock boyfriend pretends the whole thing was funny. She looks at me and sees what she didnt see before. She thanks me with a kiss, but I dont smile because i was only doing my duty. Safe to say she saw who a real man was that day. I may be quiet and collected, but raise a weapon against me and youll face your worst nightmare.

I'm not gay but I want to live in a log cabin in the woods with Jeff Bezos. We won't ever have sex, but there will be a simmering erotic undercurrent as I stand in the kitchen window watching him tighten his ass as he chops wood, shirtless, sweat pouring off his body. I'll run upstairs and masturbate, the entire time forcing myself to think of women while my thoughts drift back to Jeff. I won't be able to climax and I'll eventually go back downstairs, angry. Sometimes we will look across the table and catch each other's eyes, and in that second, anything is possible, but we both deny ourselves and go back to what we were doing. One day one of us will die, and the other will bury him outside the log cabin. Then he'll go inside, pen a brief missive to his departed friend, and commit suicide, never able to deal with life without his one true platonic love.

Shaking hands with a woman is like shaking hands with a child. It seems artificial and vaguely patronizing. The handshake was designed as a greeting between men to show that your sword hand was empty.