One-night role in the cuckchair
>Name
>Age
>Sex
>History
>Race
>Stats
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Back to board
>Nombre
>Edad
>sexo
>Historia
>raza
>Stats
>Nombre
el op
>Edad
40
>sexo
gay
>Historia
cuck
>raza
peruano
>Stats
db776e y 131907
Me llamo.... ¿Eh? ¿Cómo me llamo? No me acuerdo.
<Apariencia porque no tengo pic
Soy lampiño, completamente lampiño, no siquiera tengo cejas o pestañas, y por algún motivo mi cuerpo está repleto de escrituras raras que no comprendo.
<Trasfondo
No...no tengo la más remota idea, no recuerdo absolutamente nada ¿Quién soy? ¿Dónde estoy?
<Equipo
Estoy desnudo.
>Maldición de la culpa
el papá del op
>edad
69
>sexo
viejo
>historia
ya no se me para
>raza
peruano
>stats
3 sabiduria anciana
1 maestria con espada
>>6876
>>6877
Rechazadas. Quiero fichas mejores, perdón uwu
>Rechazadas.
Ademas de puto, exigente.
Te voy a crear la ficha mas cuck posible, y te vas a masturbar leyéndola, negro de mierda.
>>6910
>Nombre
Cuckyn Mcucker
>Edad
21
>sexo
Masculino
>Historia
https://youtu.be/sySlY1XKlhM
▶
Asi ha estado mi día... casi fui suspendido de la Universidad, creo que además de cuck soy homosexual, perdí a la chica de mis sueños, y me dieron una golpiza de lo lindo. Aun así, las cosas podrían estar mucho peor. A lo olvida, voy cayendo a mi muerte, entonces no. ¿cómo llegue a esto dirán.
Mi fin comienza hace unos días, mi punto de partida....
....
Me llamo Cuckyn, Cuckyn Mcucker.
Tengo 24 añitos y curso mi cuarto año en Ingeniería de Microfusión en la universidad. Yo no era de esos estudiantes que destacan en los pasillos ni en las conversaciones del campus como los GigaChads o Brads, con sus Mega Stacys tal como las películas de los 90s, más bien yo era de los rancios perdedores basura genética, pero sin llegar a ser tan destacable, como esos que huelen a semen, porque si, la masturbación suelta olor. En lo académico no era desastroso, pero tampoco brillante. Entendía los principios de mi carrera, podía resolver ecuaciones complejas y sobrevivir a los laboratorios largos de simulación térmica, pero me costaba el ruido humano: los grupos, las risas ajenas, la facilidad con la que otros parecían existir sin pensarlo demasiado. Mi refugio eran las noches, el cuarto estrecho del dormitorio universitario y la luz azul de la pantalla reventando mis córneas, mientras, yo cómodo en mi silla miraba Pornito rico, en una página de excelente contenido excitante, que mencionaré para su deleite después.
Yo era así. O al menos así me recuerdo.
Fue en ese entorno donde la vi a ella, Sophia, una chica de mi misma facultad, de presencia amable, siempre rodeada de una calma que parecía natural, como si no tuviera que esforzarse por encajar en ningún lugar porque ya pertenecía a todos. Nunca lograba sentirme del todo cómodo conmigo mismo cuando estaba cerca de ella. Yo empecé a fijarme en ella en pequeños fragmentos: una risa al fondo del aula, una mano levantada para preguntar algo en clase, la forma en que organizaba sus apuntes sin aparente estrés. Con el tiempo, esos fragmentos dejaron de ser neutrales y empezaron a ocupar espacio en mis noches, en mi rutina silenciosa, en ese tipo de pensamientos privados que no voy a decirte porque me da vergüenza!.
Cuando no estaba, mi mente insistía en regresar una y otra vez a la idea de lo que nunca me atrevía a decirle en voz alta. Ese pensamiento terminó convirtiéndose en un hábito obsesivo de mi imaginación nocturna, donde intentaba resolver en privado lo que en la realidad no tenía el valor de enfrentar. Cada día en clase me prometía lo mismo: acercarme, hablarle, confesarlo. Y cada día encontraba una excusa para no hacerlo.
Al mismo tiempo estaba Asher... Asher Everett era de esos chicos que no necesitan presentarse dos veces: simplemente entran y el ambiente parece acomodarse a ellos. Tenía una presencia ligera, como si el mundo le respondiera con facilidad, como si todo a su alrededor se acomodara sin esfuerzo. De esos chicos que, sin hacer demasiado ruido, terminan ocupando espacio en la mente de todos en el campus. Y yo.... yo como odiaba a esas personas, solo por llevar rostros bonitos, tienen la vida resuelta.
Su forma de moverse era tranquila, segura sin ser arrogante, y había algo en él (en su postura relajada, en la suavidad de sus rasgos, en esa manera en que la gente naturalmente giraba hacia él. No era solo atractivo en el sentido superficial.... era la manera en que ocupaba el espacio, como si perteneciera allí sin esfuerzo.) que lo volvía imposible de ignorar. Ese maldito hijo de puta, tenia todo lo que yo siempre quise. No sé cómo explicarlo sin que suene ridículo, pero el era como si ocupase menos esfuerzo en existir.
En clase le hablaban como si ya fuera parte del centro de todo, como si la gravedad social se inclinara ligeramente a su favor sin que hiciera absolutamente nada. ¿Por qué? Esas cosas me sacaban de quicio. Y después... tenía que encerrarme en mi cuarto, masturbarme durante horas, mirando una foto suya, intentando liberar esa frustración.... maldito.... maldito maricón afeminado!, lo iba a matar, iba a hacer la retribución, y se la tenía jurado!!. Él ni siquiera buscaba atención, pero aun así la recibía!!. Y yo.... yo ni siquiera recibía las migajas. Era como ver a alguien escupir comida delante de africanos muertos de hambre, simplemente porque no le gusta el sabor.
Tenía el cabello corto, siempre ligeramente desordenado de una forma que parecía calculada sin serlo. El rostro fino, rasgos suaves y expresivos, una mandíbula apenas marcada, ojos claros. Y mientras tanto, yo.... yo solo podía compararme. Su complexión era delgada, pero firme, y.... unas piernas muy bien entrenadas, casi de ciclista, unos muslos fuertes y un tras-... N-no!, no, nada, no dije nada... como sea. Había en él algo que lo hacía especialmente visible para las chicas, sin que pareciera esforzarse en ello.. Mientras tanto yo.... yo soy feo, labios grandes, granos, cachetón, y encima me estoy quedando calvo. La vida era injusta con los justos. Yo soy un buen chico y nunca nadie me ha tirado los perros.
Pero fuera de eso.... él era difícil de nombrar. No exactamente era un rival en el sentido clásico, pero más allá de lo físico o lo social, Asher era una presencia constante que me obligaba a ser consciente de todo lo que de mis propias inseguridades. Como si todo lo que yo no era, él lo encarnara, sin siquiera intentarlo, todo aquello que a mí me costaba alcanzar. Y eso me molestaba más de lo que me gusta admitir. Era injusto.... pero no lo odiaba del todo. Aunque tampoco podía dejar de compararme.
Y eso era lo que más me molestaba… no porque hiciera algo, sino porque no lo hacía. Yo odio reconocerlo, pero lo observaba más de lo que debería. Y en esa observación había una mezcla incómoda de comparación de tamaños... ¡E-en todos los sentidos!. Y una sensación persistente de inferioridad que no lograba explicarme del todo.
Como sea...
Sophi, Asher y yo terminamos formando una especie de “triángulo” silencioso dentro de la rutina universitaria. Ellos hablaban con naturalidad cuando coincidían en proyectos o en el comedor. Yo observaba más de lo que participaba. Y en ese observar se fue acumulando algo que no supe procesar bien, una mezcla de admiración, frustración y una necesidad absurda de demostrar algo que ni siquiera sabía definir.
Con el tiempo, Comencé a convencerme de que debía hacer algo. No grande, no dramático.... solo suficiente para dejar de ser invisible en mi propia historia. Durante semanas, esa tensión creció dentro de mí. Hasta que una noche decidí que iba a romper mi propio patrón. Después de horas en la biblioteca y de repetir mentalmente conversaciones que nunca habían ocurrido me convencí de que iría a verla, de que por fin diría lo que llevaba tanto tiempo guardando. Decidí que iba a declararse.
Camine por el campus cuando ya era tarde. Las luces de los edificios residenciales estaban encendidas, y el aire tenía ese silencio raro de la universidad cuando todos fingen que duermen, pero nadie está realmente en paz. Me escabullí en secreto por el patio a las ventanas de las habitaciones de las chicas, a su cuarto, con la intención de decir lo que llevaba meses evitando incluso pensar, pero entonces, todo se derrumbó....
Al acercarme escuché un ruido fuerte, un escándalo y respiraciones agitadas, muy agitadas. Me escondi debajo del marco de la ventana asustado pensando que me vio detrás del cristal, pero no... era mucho peor que eso.
Gemidos.
Gemidos de pasión... más que gemidos, gritos, orgasmo tras orgasmos de gritos descontrolados. Empecé a llorar, apreté las flores en mi mano, mientras esos ruidos, ese brutal "plap plap plap" retumbaban en mi cabeza, y una idea oscura cruzo mi cabeza.... Hecha un vistazo. No quería, pero.... a la vez si, y cuando menos me di cuenta, mi guabo estaba duro como diamante. Pero, no, no era nada de eso ¿no? tenía que ver, porque, sí, probablemente estaba en problemas, la estaban golpeando o matando?? No podía quedarme aquí escondido, nunca me lo perdonaría. Yo junté coraje y asome mi rostro, pegándolo al cristal y ahí lo vi. Lo que paso detrás de esa ventana fue masturbadle. No solo no tenía nada que ver con una pelea, sino que fue increíblemente pornográfico, y de contenido excitante. Estaba Sophi, completamente desnuda, y arriba de ella, un enorme, grueso, venoso, largo y gran pene, como de 25cm, con unas pesadas pelotas lampiñas cargadas de espeso semen, y estoy describiendo el tamaño de ese enorme pene. Cuando veo ese enorme trasero que cargaba esa pesada espada de carne (Su Pene, que era casi demasiado grande, demasiado grueso, demasiado largo para ser un pene, pero era un su pene aun así), me di cuenta de quien se trataba... Asher. Él estaba teniendo sexo con Sophi, pero de manera más violenta. Sangre y hentai, no a la manera que uno lo vería en el porno. Asher no dejaba ni un solo momento de cogérsela, y se podían ver semen volar por los aires. Yo tenía una mirada de miedo, como diciendo "por favor, deja de follártela por lo que más quieras", pero el no se detenía. Embestida tras embestidas brutales bajaban y subían con violencia, y yo solo podía masturbarme mientras lloraba y mi rostro miraba fijamente, como su enorme wabo entraba destrozando todo a su paso.
Al principio estaba destrozado, después excitado por ver como se la follaban, quería ser yo, no Asher, estaba lleno de furia, hasta que mi rostro se clavó fijamente en su enorme pene, para despues subir y clavarse en su enorme trasero, y su lindo ano rosado. Quería larmelo.... Mientras él se follaba a Sophi, yo quería lamer el ano de Asher con devoción, y meter mi pequeño chilito entre sus nalgas, mientras él se corre, esparciendo galones de semen dentro de Sophi.... 'Ambatukam!!!!!!!!!!', Yo me corrí, mirando fijamente el trasero de Asher, sin percatarme de qué.... Él me estaba viendo!!, con una sonrisa. Yo salí corriendo desnudo sin mirar atrás.
Mis piernas se movían como si no hubiera un mañana mientras lloraba, con la parte inferior completamente desnuda, y los calzoncillos entre mis tobillos. Corrí con la dignidad en el subsuelo, atravesando el campus a toda velocidad tratando de huir de la zona de chicas. En mi cabeza solo había una idea fija: llegar a mi edificio, desaparecer, y fingir que nunca existí. Pero claro, la vida no funciona así.
1/2....
Heliodor-d66e67
Rolero
>>6874
>>6910
>Name
Cuckyn Mcucker
>Age
21
>Sex
Male
>History
https://youtu.be/sySlY1XKlhM▶This is how my day has been... I was almost suspended from university, I think besides being a cuck I'm also gay, I lost the girl of my dreams, and I got beaten up pretty badly. Still, things could be a lot worse. Oh wait, I'm falling to my death, so no. How did I get here, you'll ask.
My end begins a few days ago, my starting point....
....
My name is Cuckyn, Cuckyn Mcucker.
I'm 24 years old and in my fourth year of Microfusion Engineering at university. I wasn't one of those students who stand out in the hallways or in campus conversations like the GigaChads or Brads, with their Mega Stacys like in the 90s movies. Rather, I was one of those genetic trash losers, but not so much that I was remarkable, like those who smell of semen, because yes, masturbation has a smell. Academically, I wasn't a disaster, but I wasn't brilliant either. I understood the principles of my major, I could solve complex equations and survive long thermal simulation labs, but I struggled with human noise: groups, others' laughter, the ease with which others seemed to exist without thinking too much. My refuge was the nights, the cramped university dorm room, and the blue light of the screen burning my corneas, while I, comfortable in my chair, watched delicious Pornito, on a page with excellent exciting content, which I will mention for your delight later.
That's how I was. Or at least that's how I remember myself.
It was in that environment that I saw her, Sophia, a girl from my same faculty, with a kind presence, always surrounded by a calm that seemed natural, as if she didn't have to try to fit in anywhere because she already belonged everywhere. I never managed to feel entirely comfortable with myself when I was near her. I started noticing her in small fragments: a laugh in the back of the classroom, a hand raised to ask something in class, the way she organized her notes without apparent stress. Over time, those fragments stopped being neutral and started taking up space in my nights, in my silent routine, in that kind of private thoughts that I won't tell you because I'm embarrassed!
When I wasn't around, my mind insisted on returning again and again to the idea of what I never dared to say out loud. That thought ended up becoming an obsessive habit of my nightly imagination, where I tried to resolve in private what in reality I didn't have the courage to face. Every day in class I promised myself the same thing: approach her, talk to her, confess. And every day I found an excuse not to do it.
At the same time, there was Asher... Asher Everett was one of those guys who never needed to introduce themselves twice: they just walked in and the atmosphere seemed to adjust around them. He had a light presence, as if the world responded easily to him, as if everything around him simply fell into place without effort. The kind of guy who, without making much noise, still ends up occupying space in everyone's mind on campus. And me... I hated people like that, just because they have pretty faces, their lives are already sorted out.
His way of moving was calm, confident without being arrogant, and there was something about him (his relaxed posture, the softness of his features, the way people naturally turned toward him) that made him impossible to ignore. That damn son of a bitch had everything I'd always wanted. I don't know how to explain it without sounding ridiculous, but he seemed to exist with less effort.
In class, people talked to him as if he were already part of the center of everything, as if social gravity tilted slightly in his favor without him doing absolutely anything. Why? That shit drove me insane. And then... I'd have to lock myself in my room, jerk off for hours staring at a picture of him, trying to release that frustration.... damn... damn faggot, feminine bastard! I was going to kill him, I was going to make him pay, and I had sworn it!! He didn't even seek attention, yet he still got it!! And me.... I didn't even get the crumbs. It was like watching someone spit out food in front of starving Africans just because they didn't like the taste.
He had short hair, always slightly messy in a way that looked intentional without trying. A delicate face, soft and expressive features, a barely defined jawline, light eyes. And meanwhile, me.... I could only compare myself. His build was slim, but firm, and... well-trained legs, almost like a cyclist's, strong thighs and an ass—N-no! No, nothing, I didn't say anything... whatever. There was something about him that made him especially noticeable to girls, without seeming to try at all. Meanwhile me.... I'm ugly, big lips, acne, chubby cheeks, and on top of that, I'm going bald. Life was unfair to the righteous. I'm a good guy and no one's ever shown the slightest interest in me.
But aside from that... he was hard to define. Not exactly a rival in the classic sense, but beyond the physical or social, Asher was a constant presence that forced me to be aware of all my own insecurities. As if everything I wasn't, he embodied, without even trying, everything that I struggled to achieve. And that bothered me more than I like to admit. It was unfair... but I didn't entirely hate him. Though I couldn't stop comparing myself either.
And that's what bothered me the most... not because he did anything, but because he didn't. I hate to admit it, but I watched him more than I should have. And in that observation, there was an uncomfortable mix of size comparison... E-in every sense! And a persistent feeling of inferiority that I couldn't quite explain.
Anyway...
Sophi, Asher, and I ended up forming a sort of silent "triangle" within the university routine. They talked naturally when they crossed paths on projects or in the cafeteria. I observed more than I participated. And in that observation, something began to build up that I didn't know how to process well, a mix of admiration, frustration, and an absurd need to prove something I didn't even know how to define.
Over time, I started to convince myself that I had to do something. Not big, not dramatic... just enough to stop being invisible in my own story. For weeks, that tension grew inside me. Until one night I decided I was going to break my own pattern. After hours in the library and mentally rehearsing conversations that never happened, I convinced myself that I would go see her, that I would finally say what I had been holding back for so long. I decided I was going to confess.
I walked across campus when it was already late. The lights in the residential buildings were on, and the air had that strange silence of the university when everyone pretends to be asleep, but no one is really at peace. I secretly snuck through the courtyard to the girls' dorm windows, to her room, with the intention of saying what I had been avoiding even thinking about for months, but then, everything fell apart...
As I got closer, I heard a loud noise, a commotion, and heavy, very heavy breathing. I hid under the windowsill, scared, thinking she saw me behind the glass, but no... it was much worse than that.
Moans.
Passionate moans... more than moans, screams, orgasm after orgasm of
>>6910
>Name
Cuckyn Mcucker
>Age
21
>Sex
Male
>History
https://youtu.be/sySlY1XKlhM
▶This is how my day has been... I was almost suspended from university, I think besides being a cuck I'm also gay, I lost the girl of my dreams, and I got beaten up pretty badly. Still, things could be a lot worse. Oh wait, I'm falling to my death, so no. How did I get here, you'll ask.My end begins a few days ago, my starting point....
....
My name is Cuckyn, Cuckyn Mcucker.
I'm 24 years old and in my fourth year of Microfusion Engineering at university. I wasn't one of those students who stand out in the hallways or in campus conversations like the GigaChads or Brads, with their Mega Stacys like in the 90s movies. Rather, I was one of those genetic trash losers, but not so much that I was remarkable, like those who smell of semen, because yes, masturbation has a smell. Academically, I wasn't a disaster, but I wasn't brilliant either. I understood the principles of my major, I could solve complex equations and survive long thermal simulation labs, but I struggled with human noise: groups, others' laughter, the ease with which others seemed to exist without thinking too much. My refuge was the nights, the cramped university dorm room, and the blue light of the screen burning my corneas, while I, comfortable in my chair, watched delicious Pornito, on a page with excellent exciting content, which I will mention for your delight later.
That's how I was. Or at least that's how I remember myself.
It was in that environment that I saw her, Sophia, a girl from my same faculty, with a kind presence, always surrounded by a calm that seemed natural, as if she didn't have to try to fit in anywhere because she already belonged everywhere. I never managed to feel entirely comfortable with myself when I was near her. I started noticing her in small fragments: a laugh in the back of the classroom, a hand raised to ask something in class, the way she organized her notes without apparent stress. Over time, those fragments stopped being neutral and started taking up space in my nights, in my silent routine, in that kind of private thoughts that I won't tell you because I'm embarrassed!
When I wasn't around, my mind insisted on returning again and again to the idea of what I never dared to say out loud. That thought ended up becoming an obsessive habit of my nightly imagination, where I tried to resolve in private what in reality I didn't have the courage to face. Every day in class I promised myself the same thing: approach her, talk to her, confess. And every day I found an excuse not to do it.
At the same time, there was Asher... Asher Everett was one of those guys who never needed to introduce themselves twice: they just walked in and the atmosphere seemed to adjust around them. He had a light presence, as if the world responded easily to him, as if everything around him simply fell into place without effort. The kind of guy who, without making much noise, still ends up occupying space in everyone's mind on campus. And me... I hated people like that, just because they have pretty faces, their lives are already sorted out.
His way of moving was calm, confident without being arrogant, and there was something about him (his relaxed posture, the softness of his features, the way people naturally turned toward him) that made him impossible to ignore. That damn son of a bitch had everything I'd always wanted. I don't know how to explain it without sounding ridiculous, but he seemed to exist with less effort.
In class, people talked to him as if he were already part of the center of everything, as if social gravity tilted slightly in his favor without him doing absolutely anything. Why? That shit drove me insane. And then... I'd have to lock myself in my room, jerk off for hours staring at a picture of him, trying to release that frustration.... damn... damn faggot, feminine bastard! I was going to kill him, I was going to make him pay, and I had sworn it!! He didn't even seek attention, yet he still got it!! And me.... I didn't even get the crumbs. It was like watching someone spit out food in front of starving Africans just because they didn't like the taste.
He had short hair, always slightly messy in a way that looked intentional without trying. A delicate face, soft and expressive features, a barely defined jawline, light eyes. And meanwhile, me.... I could only compare myself. His build was slim, but firm, and... well-trained legs, almost like a cyclist's, strong thighs and an ass—N-no! No, nothing, I didn't say anything... whatever. There was something about him that made him especially noticeable to girls, without seeming to try at all. Meanwhile me.... I'm ugly, big lips, acne, chubby cheeks, and on top of that, I'm going bald. Life was unfair to the righteous. I'm a good guy and no one's ever shown the slightest interest in me.
But aside from that... he was hard to define. Not exactly a rival in the classic sense, but beyond the physical or social, Asher was a constant presence that forced me to be aware of all my own insecurities. As if everything I wasn't, he embodied, without even trying, everything that I struggled to achieve. And that bothered me more than I like to admit. It was unfair... but I didn't entirely hate him. Though I couldn't stop comparing myself either.
And that's what bothered me the most... not because he did anything, but because he didn't. I hate to admit it, but I watched him more than I should have. And in that observation, there was an uncomfortable mix of size comparison... E-in every sense! And a persistent feeling of inferiority that I couldn't quite explain.
Anyway...
Sophi, Asher, and I ended up forming a sort of silent "triangle" within the university routine. They talked naturally when they crossed paths on projects or in the cafeteria. I observed more than I participated. And in that observation, something began to build up that I didn't know how to process well, a mix of admiration, frustration, and an absurd need to prove something I didn't even know how to define.
Over time, I started to convince myself that I had to do something. Not big, not dramatic... just enough to stop being invisible in my own story. For weeks, that tension grew inside me. Until one night I decided I was going to break my own pattern. After hours in the library and mentally rehearsing conversations that never happened, I convinced myself that I would go see her, that I would finally say what I had been holding back for so long. I decided I was going to confess.
I walked across campus when it was already late. The lights in the residential buildings were on, and the air had that strange silence of the university when everyone pretends to be asleep, but no one is really at peace. I secretly snuck through the courtyard to the girls' dorm windows, to her room, with the intention of saying what I had been avoiding even thinking about for months, but then, everything fell apart...
As I got closer, I heard a loud noise, a commotion, and heavy, very heavy breathing. I hid under the windowsill, scared, thinking she saw me behind the glass, but no... it was much worse than that.
Moans.
Passionate moans... more than moans, screams, orgasm after orgasm of
Resulta que salir corriendo completamente desnudo y coomeado, desde la zona de dormitorios femeninos a las dos de la madrugada no te convierte en “el chico gracioso”. Te convierte en “el sucio degenerado violador roba ropa interior que está haciendo algo ilegal”. Y ahí empezó el problema. Dos estudiantes de la residencia me interceptaron primero. No escucharon explicaciones. De hecho, no llegué ni a intentarlo. Uno de ellos me tiró al suelo antes de que pudiera decir “no es lo que parece”, y lo siguiente que recuerdo es un conjunto de puños, patadas, palazos, gritos y una mezcla de “¡puto rancio degenerado!” con “¡llamen al Rector!”. Cuando llegó el personal del campus, yo ya parecía más un saco de boxeo que una persona.
Esa misma noche acabé en la oficina de disciplina universitaria, sentado frente al rector, con una manta sobre los hombros, dos ojos hinchados, nariz sangrando, un diente menos y la dignidad oficialmente declarada en paradero desconocido........... No sé cómo, sobreviví de esa.... logre mentir, y salí de esa reunión con una advertencia formal y la palabra “posible suspensión” flotando sobre mi cabeza como una guillotina. Pero realmente la expulsión no me importaba lo más mínimo, mi reputación estudiantil, casi inexistente había terminado, ahora nadie me iba a ver a los ojos, mi vida, mi futuro, había acabado.
No biches, no life, no nada.... Esta mañana decidí lanzarme de la torre de agua abandonada detrás de la Universidad. Sin pensarlo... me balancie.
...
Y bien, aquí es donde estaba, a punto de caer al vacío para acabar con mi existencia... hasta que https://youtu.be/fM_-MuPL2ng
▶ Rápidamente me agarro del barandal, y me siento de golpe, respirando fuertemente, con el corazón en la garganta. Con la mano temblando veo mi celular... una notificación.
<Asher
"😉"
¿Eh? q-que significa eso? Espera ¿como consiguió mi num-.... Mierda... las imágenes vienen a mi mente. Ya no podía lanzarme aunque quisiera... No se porque. Creo que la emoción de esa noche fue tal que... en el fondo quería más.
>raza
Neo Amerimutt
>Stats
<tamaño del guavo
13cm de largo y 14cm de grosor
<Duracion de las pajas
5 horas.
<Eyaculacion
10ml
<Record de pajas
122
2/2
Heliodor-d66e67
Rolero
>>6911
Turns out running out completely naked and cum-covered, from the women's dorm area at two in the morning doesn't make you "the funny guy." It makes you "the dirty rapist underwear thief who's doing something illegal." And that's where the trouble started. Two dorm students intercepted me first. They didn't listen to explanations. In fact, I didn't even get to try. One of them threw me to the ground before I could say "it's not what it looks like," and the next thing I remember is a combination of fists, kicks, clubs, shouts, and a mix of "you degenerate pervert!" and "call the Dean!". When campus security arrived, I already looked more like a punching bag than a person.
That same night I ended up in the university disciplinary office, sitting across from the dean, with a blanket over my shoulders, two swollen eyes, a bleeding nose, a missing tooth, and my dignity officially declared missing in action........... I don't know how, I survived that.... I managed to lie, and I left that meeting with a formal warning and the word "possible suspension" hanging over my head like a guillotine. But I really didn't care about expulsion at all, my student reputation, almost non-existent, was over, now no one would look me in the eye, my life, my future, was over.
No bitches, no life, no nothing.... This morning I decided to jump from the abandoned water tower behind the University. Without thinking... I swung.
...
And well, this is where I was, about to fall into the void to end my existence... until https://youtu.be/fM_-MuPL2ng▶ Quickly grabbed me by the railing, and I sat down suddenly, breathing heavily, with my heart in my throat. With a trembling hand, I look at my phone... a notification.
<Asher
"😉"
Huh? W-what does that mean? Wait, how did he get my num-.... Shit... the images come to mind. I couldn't jump anymore even if I wanted to... I don't know why. I think the excitement of that night was such that... deep down I wanted more.
>race
Neo Amerimutt
>Stats
<Cock size
13cm long and 14cm thick
<Masturbation duration
5 hours.
<Ejaculation
10ml
<Masturbation record
122
2/2
Turns out running out completely naked and cum-covered, from the women's dorm area at two in the morning doesn't make you "the funny guy." It makes you "the dirty rapist underwear thief who's doing something illegal." And that's where the trouble started. Two dorm students intercepted me first. They didn't listen to explanations. In fact, I didn't even get to try. One of them threw me to the ground before I could say "it's not what it looks like," and the next thing I remember is a combination of fists, kicks, clubs, shouts, and a mix of "you degenerate pervert!" and "call the Dean!". When campus security arrived, I already looked more like a punching bag than a person.
That same night I ended up in the university disciplinary office, sitting across from the dean, with a blanket over my shoulders, two swollen eyes, a bleeding nose, a missing tooth, and my dignity officially declared missing in action........... I don't know how, I survived that.... I managed to lie, and I left that meeting with a formal warning and the word "possible suspension" hanging over my head like a guillotine. But I really didn't care about expulsion at all, my student reputation, almost non-existent, was over, now no one would look me in the eye, my life, my future, was over.
No bitches, no life, no nothing.... This morning I decided to jump from the abandoned water tower behind the University. Without thinking... I swung.
...
And well, this is where I was, about to fall into the void to end my existence... until https://youtu.be/fM_-MuPL2ng
▶ Quickly grabbed me by the railing, and I sat down suddenly, breathing heavily, with my heart in my throat. With a trembling hand, I look at my phone... a notification.<Asher
"😉"
Huh? W-what does that mean? Wait, how did he get my num-.... Shit... the images come to mind. I couldn't jump anymore even if I wanted to... I don't know why. I think the excitement of that night was such that... deep down I wanted more.
>race
Neo Amerimutt
>Stats
<Cock size
13cm long and 14cm thick
<Masturbation duration
5 hours.
<Ejaculation
10ml
<Masturbation record
122
2/2