I started seeing an interesting man. Things eventually led to sex. After some intense foreplay, I was lying naked beneath him. He kissed my lips and started moving lower. I thought I was about to get some amazing cunnilingus. He kisses my neck, chest, and stomach, and then—skipping the «right» spot—starts kissing my knees, moves even lower, and begins frantically sucking on my toes. After three minutes of sex, he has an explosive orgasm, and that’s it… That was the last evening we spent together.

A friend of mine has a neighbor in the village who needed to saw some firewood. He borrowed a circular saw, but while he was working, he lost consciousness. He fell stomach-first right onto the saw—there was blood everywhere, screaming relatives and neighbors, the whole chaotic scene. By some miracle, the guy was patched up and saved; he’s still alive today, though he has a huge scar on his stomach.

Being a bold young woman, I decided to study a field that wasn't exactly «feminine.» One of our subjects was «Metals and Alloys.» The professor was a lecherous old geezer. During one class, we were learning to weld. I was standing there in full welding gear: a black mask with a small dark visor on my face and an electrode holder in my hand. Who would have thought that my appearance would turn him on so much? He came up from behind and started groping my ass with one hand while trying to slip the other under my protective clothing to get to my skin. I tossed aside the welding gear, kicked him hard in the balls, and smashed my mask right into his brazen mug! He couldn't straighten up for ten minutes. There was a confrontation. The rector got involved. They started drawing up expulsion papers. After all, who would they believe—me or him? Him, of course. But at the very last moment, a classmate burst into my dorm room: «I've got something for you!» He showed me a video where… That old geezer’s harassment was clearly caught on camera. He’d wanted to film me screwing up and failing to handle the welding machine just for a laugh, but in the end, he actually saved me. The instructor got fired, and I’ve become something of a legend.

Back in September, I met a really beautiful, sexy woman in an online game. We started messaging on Instagram, and a week later—once she found out the size of my «little rascal»—she suggested we see how I performed in the bedroom. I drove to her city for five days, and things got pretty hot every single night. Now, she flies in to see me once a month for a day, and we spend the whole time doing that wonderful thing… I’m 28 and she’s 34; I’ve never had a woman this hot in my life!

A woman lived in a one-room apartment in our building's entryway. She’d inherited the place from her elderly parents long ago, but after their funerals, she suffered deeply and—without even realizing it—sank into alcoholism. She didn't work; instead, she’d hang out with the local drunks, swilling moonshine. Unlike them, she didn't beg, but she absolutely loved animals. She’d take in every stray cat she found and keep them in her apartment. No one knew where she got the money, but the smell of boiled meat often wafted from her window, and she clearly fed the cats something. A neighbor got fed up with the constant stench of cat filth and went over to confront the woman. She walked in and found her devouring a boiled cat; there was a pile of bones and rotting pelts in the corner, and about twenty cats were yowling around her, begging for food.

Back in school, during our safety class, they taught us how to stop bleeding, but I didn't pay attention and just did my own thing. Then, one day while walking down the street, I witnessed an accident where one of the victims suffered arterial bleeding. Blood was spurting out like a fountain; I just stood there watching, unable to do anything but call an ambulance. But they didn't make it in time. I later found out the man who died had a wife and a four-year-old daughter. I still can't forgive myself for it.

There’s a colleague at the office who walks without lifting her feet—she shuffles loudly enough for the whole place to hear. You can hear her coming from a mile away. On top of that, she sighs heavily, acting as if she’s being forced to haul heavy sacks. She stomps and shuffles back and forth in her slippers like a lumbering elephant, annoying absolutely everyone. I politely asked her not to do it—it’s loud and infuriating. She ignored me. I gave her a car jack for her birthday. She had gotten on everyone’s nerves so much that the whole office chipped in and sent money to my card with comments like «Thanks,» «Hilarious,» and «Finally!»

My brother took out a loan to impress a girl he’s liked for a long time; he took her to restaurants, bought her gifts, and even took her on a seaside vacation. But once the money ran out, she stopped answering his calls. She never promised him anything—they weren't even dating—she just accepted his courtship. Now he’s asking for help with the loan; he’s barely scraping by, and Mom is in tears. Look, I’d happily lend the money, but I refuse to pay off such a shameful loan—he needs to learn a life lesson. Now Mom hates me; it’s both funny and sad.

I love sex. In any form, and in large quantities. I’m 27, single, not ugly, and can hold a conversation. But lately, I keep running into men who *don't* want sex!!! Even the married ones prefer going to the movies with me rather than giving me a good pounding at my place—anytime! What the hell??? My girlfriends have the exact opposite problem: they want relationships, but men only offer them sex!

I’ve noticed a pattern regarding men's bodies. A man’s penis is shaped just like his fingers. For instance, if the fingers are thick at the base and taper toward the tips, the penis is the same way—with a small, narrow head. Conversely, if the fingers widen towards the tips (say, with spade-shaped nails), then the penis is narrow at the base while the head is wider—or even larger. And naturally, if the fingers are thick, it’s thick; if they’re slender, it’s slender. The resemblance is especially striking with the thumb ;) I haven’t seen that many penises, mind you!

After sex, I went to the bathroom to freshen up my pussy. Since there was no hot water, I grabbed the electric kettle, thinking, «Ooh, nice and warm.» I sat down, spread my legs, and poured the water—only to scream in agony right down there! It felt like red-hot iron! Then it hit me: an hour earlier, I’d put descaler in the kettle! I called my boyfriend over and asked him to check if my pussy was still there or if it had dissolved. It turned out fine—it did a great job removing the limescale, and I didn't even get burned.

I came home pretty drunk after a work party; my wife was in the kitchen with some girlfriends, chatting about life. I walked in, said hello, and told them I was heading to bed; I stripped naked, turned off the lights, and got into bed. Half-asleep, I heard the door open as my wife tiptoed in with three girlfriends, all of them giggling softly. My wife whispered, «He's passed out—we can do it now!» She pulled the covers off me and started caressing my cock, while her friends gasped and marveled at it. It really stroked my ego. I adore her.

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A game where car lovers can repair and customize late model cars and trucks. Working from their virtual garage, players use power tools to repair their cars to top condition. They can even paint them with a virtual paint can, or apply catalog-bought decals anywhere on the body. And for more personality, custom parts are available for every car in the game!

Download: Gearhead Garage

Password: gearhead

Works on windows 11.

I had a dream where Hercule Poirot was performing cunnilingus on me, and I couldn't stop laughing because I kept seeing his waxed mustache. I kept giggling and couldn't relax. He kept glancing at me angrily, but I just kept laughing. My husband woke me up and kept pestering me about what I’d been dreaming, but I was too embarrassed to tell him.

Once, while chatting with some girlfriends, we got onto the topic of how embarrassing it is to poop away from home. Well, one friend declared: «I absolutely cannot poop anywhere except at home.» She ended up in the hospital and didn't have a bowel movement for a whole WEEK just so no one would hear her fart. She described the sensation like this: at first, it was really uncomfortable, but eventually, the urge just went away. I managed to hold it in until I got home and finally dropped a week's worth of poop with a clear conscience. I’m still amazed her ass didn't tear open.

I accidentally found a vibrator in my grandma's nightstand. She’s 70. On one hand, I’m happy for her; on the other, it feels a bit weird.

Everyone knows about double penetration, but few have heard of double cunnilingus. My dorm roommate was a girl with a high libido and a vivid imagination. As it happened, both I and another guy we lived with wanted her. To avoid hurting anyone's feelings, we took turns sleeping with her. Things were going well until she said, «It's either double cunnilingus or I'm moving out.» We agreed. It was a strange experience—one moment I was licking her clit, the next he was...

How being late can change your destiny. I’ve been dating a guy for six months; he’s affectionate, gentle, and fun. We decided to spend our vacation together to enjoy some quality time and nature. I stopped by a travel agency to pick up our trip vouchers. I got held up a bit while finalizing the paperwork—the first time I’d ever been late for a date. Breathless, I rushed to the meeting spot, eager to see my boyfriend, only to see an ambulance driving away. He was nowhere to be found; there was a bouquet of white roses and blood on the pavement. I overheard two police officers talking: «He showed up for a date, then a car hit him—killed instantly.» My vision went dark, my legs gave way, and I sank to the ground. Strong hands caught me and helped me stand up. It was my  boyfriend! Tears streamed down my face, smudging my mascara. He was alive—he’d just been a little late—while the guy who died was someone else, someone whose date would never show up...

I really wanted to try rimming a guy. After a lot of persuasion, he agreed. And it was absolutely disgusting!!! But I was too embarrassed to tell him. Yet, he ended up liking it and is asking for more. FUCK.

Once again, I realized I want to be a man. Men can cheat—«it's just nature»; masturbation, blowjobs, and strip clubs—«that's not cheating»; they can scratch their balls anywhere, go shirtless in the heat, flirt with acquaintances without risking a «slut» reputation, fuck whenever they want without being tied to a cycle, and not shave if they don't feel like it. They don't need to get all dolled up before going out, among many other things simply unavailable to women. It's a man's world.

My internet started lagging one day. I checked everything and found out a neighbor—who had turned down my request for a date—was stealing my Wi-Fi. I changed the password, and the next day she came over: «Could I use the Wi-Fi a bit?» «And what are you willing to do for that?» She thought about it: «Would a kiss on the cheek work?» It would. A couple of days later, I changed the password again and asked her to go on a date with me in exchange for access. We had such a great time that I walked her back to my place instead of hers. She lives with me now, but I still change the password sometimes if I want something spicy from her in return.

Many people are familiar with the habit of keeping one's hands busy while talking on the phone (doodling on paper, fidgeting with small objects, etc.). Slip your cock to your girlfriend while she’s on the phone, and she’ll definitely start jerking it off. It worked with mine.

I want to address the husbands and boyfriends of women who teach at schools or universities—specifically the young female teachers, because they are the biggest bitches imaginable. Could you please fuck them? Like, really fuck them—fuck the demons right out of them. I’m a first-year student myself, and sometimes *I* want to fuck my professors because it’s obvious the men in their lives aren't getting the job done; I want to do a service—not just for you guys, but for the students, too. If your ladies act like sweethearts at home, I suggest sitting in on one of their classes to see what I mean. You’ll be shocked at what a total bitch your darling little «home kitty» can turn out to be.

What I want most of all is to turn back time. I used to be an athlete—handsome and fit. I studied at a top university in the capital. I spoke two foreign languages ​​and played musical instruments. And most importantly, I had the feeling that something great lay ahead for me. Well, something *did* lie ahead. Fifteen years later, I’m a depressed recluse, obese, and earning a below-average salary. I have no relationships. My diploma is gathering dust in a drawer. I failed to make all the right decisions when I should have. Now, I live in a state of apathy and regret over the past.

When I was six, I took a deep whiff of my own shit and threw up violently. My mother scooped me up and rushed me to the hospital, thinking I was sick. We sat in line for half the day, ran some tests, and went home. Because of all that, I missed my cousin’s birthday party—an event I’d been looking forward to for ages because they always served amazing cakes. I still regret missing it, even though thirty-six years have passed.

A friend of mine is pushing forty. He’s still unmarried and has a massive complex about it. He frequently falls into bouts of depression and searches for a wife with manic persistence. But in reality, his search always ends with him bedding total bitches and gold-diggers who care only about his money and fame, not him. It makes me wonder: is he just an idiot, or is he pretending to want a family so he can sleep around with impunity—only to look at them with puppy-dog eyes later and say, «But I thought we’d be together...»?

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