brooketyler
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It’s one of those days. I want to fuck. I don’t care who. I ..
🕑 Added 2023-07-31 17:36:23 +0000 UTC It’s one of those days. I want to fuck. I don’t care who. I don’t care how. I just want to fuck. And…of course, nobody is around to rearrange my insides with a delicious steel-hard cock. It’s annoying. I know you will gladly step in, and if this were the world of fantasy that becomes a reality, that would be awesome. But sadly, as we all know, it does not. I just want a cock, and all the people I know who own one within reach are not available at the moment. What I would give to feel a dick spread me open like warm butter. Then just leave that wonderful thing sitting inside of me, rock hard, feeling his pulse through his cock. Let it stretch me open, and then wait for him to pull out and plunge my insides like a stick in the mud. I will shut up because this is already making my beaver mitt a swampy mess. I have to think of something else, like these pictures. I just took them. They are minutes old, with zero edits, just little 57 yr old me. Now would someone please, for the love of all things good…stick their dick in me, for fuck’s sake! I commented to a girl who sent me a photo and then called and asked for my thoughts. I pointed out that it was an AI-created version of an original photo. She lost her mind. She told me I was rude and wasn’t asking me if I thought it was an AI drawing. Which it was. She said I should have kept quiet if I had nothing positive to say about it. I pointed out, “You clearly asked me what I thought. So I told you what I thought, and furthermore, I was correct.” She hung up and messaged me on Twitter, telling me she was blocking me on IG and TT. I messaged her back before she could block me, “Put the keyboard down and step away from the crackpipe before someone gets hurt.” She replied, “You’re a whore!” I replied, “You finally got something right.” But…. she blocked me by then. Now I have a voicemail from her, with her apologizing for calling me a “whore.” Really? I wear that badge of honor like a gold medalist olympian. I’ll call her when she comes down from whatever she is whacked out on. If I call her now, she will probably ask me how my 5 legged pony is. I don’t have a 5 legged pony. I never did. Drugs. I don’t get the attraction. Well, at least she gave me something to write about. I was at a loss for words this morning, and now I’m not.
