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Sepulchritude Forum » The Absinthe Forum Archive thru January 2003 » Arts & Other Philosophical Sundries » THE PORN LOUNGE « Previous Next »

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Archive through June 28, 2002_Blackjack25 6-28-02  4:25 pm
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Posted on Thursday, October 31, 2002 - 10:02 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

nice bikini lines
Posted on Wednesday, October 30, 2002 - 11:01 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

Posted on Wednesday, October 30, 2002 - 9:39 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

I like dark hair.
burning bedroom eyes
Posted on Wednesday, October 30, 2002 - 9:16 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

We weren't lovers...
GO GO Penis
Just brave strangers.
Posted on Wednesday, October 30, 2002 - 5:33 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

I really wanna hump that go go shakey
drink girl. She got nice Ooda Coodas.
Posted on Wednesday, October 30, 2002 - 7:11 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Clowny Clown Clown!
Posted on Tuesday, October 29, 2002 - 3:09 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

I prefer to practice the sage
advice of Mssr. C.H.Glover...

Women are sweet,
and girls are honey,
but beat your meat and save your money.
I'm an auto-manipulator.
I play with myself.
I'm a masturbator.
I strut on by the corner whore,
and walk in to the liquour store.
The slick pages of the magazine
are accompained by the vasaline.
The lubrication is for masturbation.
It's high time for a celebration.
I'm an auto-manipulator.
I play with myself.
I'm a masturbator.
I'm feeling proud of my slab of meat.
I get into the groove.
I feel the beat.
I'm up against the porcelin of the sink.
Things are getting funny.
I start to blink.
My mother comes, she says "Are you asleep?"
I freeze. I don't utter a single peep.
I'm an auto-manipulator.
I play with myself.
I'm a cool operator.
I get back into the groove.
I feel the beat.
My mind starts to stutter.
I feel the heat.
the fine clean girl at the Beverly Center,
is looking real good in her tight fit sweater.
The shiny material of her slacks
are getting to me, O.K. relax.
I'm an auto-manipulator.
I play with myself.
I'm a masturbator.
I drop a Jackson bill for the looker.
She bends herself over like a high class hooker.
My face is straining, I just can't stop.
I'm gritting my teeth,
I'm ready to pop.
I'm an auto-manipulator.
I play with myself.
I'm a masturbator.
I look into the ceiling.
I see what I know.
That feeling is reeling.
I think there's a glow.
I see everything so clear.
I don't really know what I'm doing here.
I close the bathroom door I am looking so cool.
My mother does not know I've been touching my tool.
I'm an auto-manipulator.
I play with myself.
I'm a masturbator.
I'm so happy that I am a man,
because I've got the whole world in my hands.
Posted on Tuesday, October 29, 2002 - 4:44 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

If you want L'amour and all it's wonders then go no further than your local strip club. A few drinks,promises and a trip to thrifty acres and your reliving tales that would make a 8 mile pimp blush! Im still trying to figure out how she got that cue ball in the serpis bottle!!? Wait a minute...... wheres my wallet? I love you Porn lounge!!!!
Posted on Thursday, July 4, 2002 - 9:04 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

These are the best sex stories on Earth.
Posted on Wednesday, July 3, 2002 - 7:07 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

Learning How to Make Love

This couple couldn't figure it out.
The man licked his wife's genitals while she stared straight ahead.
The woman poked her husband's testicles with her nose.
The man put his toe in the folds of the woman's vulva.
The woman took the man's penis under her armpit.
Neither one of them wanted to be the first to admit
something was off. So it went on --
the man put his finger in his wife's navel.
The woman batted her eyelashes against the arch of her husband's foot.
They pinched each other's earlobes. They bit each other's rear ends.
To perpetrate the lie, they ended each encounter with a deep sigh.
Then one day while the husband was hunting,
a man stopped by the igloo and said to the wife:
I hear you have been having trouble.
I can show you how to make love.
He took her to bed and left before the husband came home.
Then the wife showed her husband,
careful to make it seem like the idea sprang
from both. After all these years of rubbing one's face against the other's belly
or stroking a male elbow behind a female knee,
this couple had a lot of catching up to do. They couldn't stop to eat or sleep
and grew so skinny they died. No one found them for a long time.
And by then, their two skeletons were fused into one.


Everyone knows not to have sex after handling a corpse.
But Him-Whose-Penis-Stretches-Down-To-His-Knees
pointed to his groin and said, "This big fellow isn't afraid of taboos."
His wife warned him, but he just laughed as he rolled her onto her back.
The next day a huge raven rose up from a boulder
and grabbed the penis of Him-Whose-Penis-Stretches-Down-To-His-Knees.
The raven tugged as though the penis were a frozen piece of fish.
The raven tugged until he tore off most of the penis, then flew away.
Now people from the village point to the man
whose urges couldn't wait one more day.
They taunt him by calling out his new name: Him-Whose-Penis-

The Woman With Two Vaginas

The woman with two vaginas tried her best
to hide them from her husband. It was difficult
because her vaginas weren't in the usual place

but in the palms of her hands. To distract her husband,
she tickled his penis with her nipple,
or she took him into her backside.

She had traveled far, from a place she preferred
not to talk about, and her husband assumed
she learned her sexual practices there. He was happy

until he discovered his wife
pissing through her fingers, as though she were trying
to cup running water. He wished

that he didn't know what he then knew --
that his sexy young wife was also a ghost.
This was no time for sentimental lust --

a ghost can only bring loneliness to a snow hut.
So he strapped his wife into his kayak
and deposited her on an ice-floe far from home.

He told her to go back to the Land of the Dead,
but she was trapped like a moving shadow
that was neither here nor there. Some say

they still hear her sobbing: "My husband
will not have me! My husband will not have me!"
But she has no way of knowing how he misses her

twin vaginas, how he tries his best to
hide it from his new wife -- yet the village is small,
the gossip as fast as wind during a storm.

It's said he makes his new wife slap his face,
to feel the warm tingle of her fingers,
that he then cries out into her barren palms.


Inuit Tales Fucking Kick ASS!

Posted on Sunday, June 30, 2002 - 8:09 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Foreword from The Bitch of Buchenwald:
(our goal is not to offend our viewers so
we have used Turner's P.C.-fication filter
for general consumption)

"HA! HA!"
Hilda Steinmuller laughed wickedly as she
flailed the young girl with her cat o'nine
tails. The metal-edged tips of the lashes
cut into the young girl's naked flesh, raised
long welts, draining out seeping drops of blood.


The tough rawhide splashed once again over the
girl's bruised skin. Hilda looked at her captive

As she glanced at her slave, Fr(olicky) Hilda felt
her cunt begin to ache. She craved this young
girl. The sight of her blood, dripping in light
streams from the child's abused breasts, instilled
Hilda with a passion she had never known.

"Now, bitch," she leered as she undid the
youngster's bonds, "you will have the honor
of serving a member of the (F)aster Race!"

The (Nutsy) dominatrix pulled loose her belt,
exposing her tender, dripping love-gash to her
wide-eyed captive. Hilda grabbed the girl by
her long black hair and shoved the girl's face
between her own parted thighs.

"Now, you bitch!" Hilda commanded, cracking the whip
over the girl's aching buttocks. "Now, lick me!
Suck my (Squirmin') cunt!"

The young slave moved her mouth towards the (Nutsy)
mistress's eager cunt...."

Bitch of Buchenwald
Posted on Sunday, June 30, 2002 - 1:37 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

and I forgot to mention ... I read Diane di Prima's "Memoirs of a Beatnik" at the tender age of 17. I was already bohemian at heart, but it turned my head from the politically correct sexual teet that was being fed me in my formative years.

I think I read it the same time I digested Story of the Eye, as a matter of fact.

Posted on Saturday, June 29, 2002 - 6:00 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

The Cuntzenjammer Kids

Posted on Saturday, June 29, 2002 - 12:41 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

is full of erotic fuck scenes, including some lovely lesbian action.
Posted on Friday, June 28, 2002 - 10:14 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

Le Libertin de qualité, 1784

Once we are alone, my lovely throws herself on a sopha; not bothering with trifles like preliminaries, I hurl myself on her; in an instant she is ready for pillage. I find a tanned cleavage, but breasts as hard as marble; a fine body, a domed mons veneris, a most entrancing wig ... During the inspection, my dearest bellows like a bull, whinnies like a mare in heat; her arse beats a tattoo, her cunt sounds the bugle call ... Jesus wept! Overcome with a Holy fury I grab one of her arms, hold her tight for a moment and plunge in ... Wonder of wonders ... My buggeress is tight ... With two mighty thrusts I'm up to my balls ... I bite her ... She scratches me ... The blood flows ... Sometimes I'm on top, sometimes underneath; the couch creaks, breaks, falls to pieces ... The beast is down, but I'm still in the saddle; my strokes re-double ... 'Keep it up my friend ... Keep ... fuck ... Ah! Ah! ... Harder ... Ah! ... Bugger ... Ah! It's so good. Ah! Ah! Ah! ... Sweet Jesus, don't take it out ... Ho, ho, ho ... More ... more ... I'm coming ... Help ... help ... ah, youth, youth...' Stupid cow! She shakes her good-for-nothing arse so much that I am all but uncunted ... I press on ... My prick's on fire ... I grab her by the chignon (not the one on her pussy); I am back in harness ... 'Ah! She cries ... I'm dying ...' Horrible old bag! ... (I grind my teeth) ... 'I'll throttle you if you don't let me come ...' Finally, breathless, her eyes soften; she begs for mercy ... Never, dammit ... no quarter! ... I dig the spurs in ... Full speed ahead ... My balls are in a perfect rage; She faints dead away ... But I don't give a cuss, and only unsheath when we discharge together ...

It is high time, I think, for her to put her underclothes back on. When we have composed ourselves, she offers me compliments and congratulations and repairs to the bidet. While she's out of the room, I set to work trying to fix the sopha.

'What are you up to? She asks on her return. My friend, the servents are accustomed to this sort of thing and one of them, a valet de chambre, is an upholsterer too and comes in each morning to mend that.'
Posted on Friday, June 28, 2002 - 5:36 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

I think that Pan phallus is talking enough for the both of them. I'm stuck at work again, but I've got I.K.U. ("This is not love...this is SEX"), a Japanese Sci-Fi Porn DVD. Skimpy costumes, phallic ray-guns, something about genetics and a chip. Made by artists, and net-artists at that, so probably more art shots than money shots, but we'll see...
Posted on Friday, June 28, 2002 - 5:28 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

Lil Caboose,
Forget about her. This monkey ass
banana boy has a gutted 1973 rust primer Camarro
with your name all over it...
Posted on Friday, June 28, 2002 - 5:17 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

Kallisti, you romantic, you . . .

A buddy of mine who works at the power plant in Yuma is bringing me a pair of 60,000 volt linesman's gloves. I'll be sure to bring them along on our little romantic getaway . . . oops, that was supposed to be a secret, wasn't it?

Posted on Friday, June 28, 2002 - 5:11 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

hrmmmm. time for my bath.
Posted on Friday, June 28, 2002 - 4:52 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

My loving Dear I send thee this
To tell thee that I want to piss.
Pray let me speak the matter blunt
I want to stretch my narrow cunt.
But if you frown and turn away
Go, with the devil dance the Hay
Pray send me back a swelling prick
To touch my matters to the quick
But if your Roger cannot fill
The water brook that turns my Mill
Go fuck green sickness girls and wenches
On Bulks, in Lanes, on Tombs or Benches.

By God I want a strapping Man
My Cunt is more than twice a Span
And Faith I speak it without joking
Last night I put a Cartwheel Spoke in
Then if your matters cannot do
By God I never will have you
Unless I dangle with thy prick
Piss in they face and let thee lick.

Thomas Chatterton, age 17, 1770
Posted on Friday, June 28, 2002 - 4:33 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

If that mask could talk ...
Posted on Friday, June 28, 2002 - 4:30 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

that, and a fine collection of unique etchings, mssr.

all at your service.
Posted on Friday, June 28, 2002 - 4:28 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

hitherto unseen at pornokrates:

ladies, please!
Posted on Friday, June 28, 2002 - 4:27 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

cigarette girl,

do you have a tin of tobacco chew that contains the dried, finely ground labia of Persian kittens?
Its such a delight between the gum and cheek.
Posted on Friday, June 28, 2002 - 4:26 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

My first two months in Chile, I tutored a 25 year-old businesswoman in her office. English lessons. She smoked cigarettes while I smoked a pipe. One day, just as I was about to light the pipe, she took it out of my mouth, brought it to her lips, and proceeded to give the stem a slow, very thorough blowjob. Then she took my finger and led it to where the lucky pipe had been ...

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