by atinky butthole March 06, 2021
by The mighty egg December 10, 2019
by FinForFlin June 08, 2023
Hym "Women will fuck a dildo and then throw a party with all their friends about it. What are those called? Something-passion party? The pyramid scheme? This is why nobody give a shit about rape."
by Hym Iam July 29, 2024
by the big croc September 10, 2020
Aunt Enya stood by her husband's casket, tears cascading down her grief-stricken face as the wails of the women in the family filled the room. The air was heavy with sorrow, the weight of loss palpable in the mournful atmosphere.
Amidst the sorrow, a whispered secret emerged, passed down through generations - the ancient family "funeral dildo." Shock and disbelief clouded Enya's eyes as the women, consumed by grief, revealed the taboo object. In their shared pain, they sought solace in the forbidden comfort it offered.
One by one, the women took turns, finding a bittersweet release in their shared act of defiance against death's cruel grip. Enya watched, her heart heavy with a mix of shock and understanding. Even Nana Val, her frail body confined to a Victorian wheelchair, found temporary respite from her own suffering. As the night wore on, the echoes of grief softened, replaced by a fragile sense of peace.
In that moment, amongst the tears and whispered confessions, Aunt Enya found a glimmer of hope in the midst of her despair. The mourning dildo, with its taboo allure, had woven a strange tapestry of healing through the tangled threads of grief, binding the women together in a shared, sacred moment of release.
Amidst the sorrow, a whispered secret emerged, passed down through generations - the ancient family "funeral dildo." Shock and disbelief clouded Enya's eyes as the women, consumed by grief, revealed the taboo object. In their shared pain, they sought solace in the forbidden comfort it offered.
One by one, the women took turns, finding a bittersweet release in their shared act of defiance against death's cruel grip. Enya watched, her heart heavy with a mix of shock and understanding. Even Nana Val, her frail body confined to a Victorian wheelchair, found temporary respite from her own suffering. As the night wore on, the echoes of grief softened, replaced by a fragile sense of peace.
In that moment, amongst the tears and whispered confessions, Aunt Enya found a glimmer of hope in the midst of her despair. The mourning dildo, with its taboo allure, had woven a strange tapestry of healing through the tangled threads of grief, binding the women together in a shared, sacred moment of release.
by sad grandma November 22, 2024