hey, Doublelift! i'm an admin from PinkieCraft 🌈, the pony roleplay Minecraft server that you play on! i wanted to personally extend my thank you for the 1000$ you donated to help keep our server alive! next time you log on we'll make sure to let me know and i'll make sure to get you that custom pony body you donated for! i regret to inform you, however, that we don't currently have a way to give you "20 foot horse cock" like you requested but we'll work on it thank you
After weeks of sexual tension and a few events, I came to the conclusion that I’m in love with my mom. She gives me butterflies like no one before and kissing her feels so natural. I envision us being together and possibly giving her a kid. The other night we were laying in bed together and started making out (this is basically a nightly occurrence now) I was on top of her grinding on her pussy and I basically just said “mom I’m in love with you.” It kind of caught her of guard and her response was “what do u mean” and I explained to her that I wanted her to be my girl and spend our lives together. She said “fuck I wanna be yours forever” and we started making out a lot quicker and I fingered her pussy for a while before she said she needed to shower. I’m still not sure of our future but she knows how I feel about her.
So i, a 30 y/o male usually uses my dildo each day, and yesterday, i slipped in the shower and fell on it. It got stuck up my ass, which i had to go to the hospital to get it taken out. Reddit, please help me determine whether im gay or not for accidentally falling on my dildo.
Part I
I was born into a family of non-yeeters. Every morning before I went to school my father would say, "if I ever find out that you've hit that yeet, I'll thump ya."
"Yes, pa," I would always reply. It was a regular occurrence for him to burst into my room unannounced while I was relaxing or doing homework.
"Y'all hitting that yeet?" he would seeth.
"No, pa," I would answer.
"Good." He would then walk out the room and shout, "If I ever catch ya, it's a thumpin'."
It was a difficult upbringing. I had seen my friends hittin' that yeet at school, and many of them encouraged me to partake.
I would swallow my pride. "No thanks. I don't wanna catch a thumpin' from pa." As a result, I was an outcast. A loner. I became depressed, knowing that I would never be like my peers, I would never fit in - I would never hit that yeet.
One day, when I was still but a wee lad, I became curious. I was in my room, watching Instagram videos of fellas my age hittin' that yeet all over town without a care in the world. My intentions got the better of me. I stood up, my knees trembling. Carefully, I leaned onto my right foot and raised my hand in the air.
I breathed in.
"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!"
My father burst from my closet. "I told you I'd thump ya if I ever caught you hittin' that yeet, nibba," he ejaculated. Then, he thumped me.
I haven't hit that yeet since.
PART II
Until today. This morning was my father's funeral. At the procession, my brother asked me to say a few words. I told him I only needed one.
With confidence, I approached the podium. I gazed out upon the gathering of sad faces. I cleared my throat and leaned into the microphone.
"Yeet," I spake.
Suddenly, my father leapt from his hand-crafted mahogany coffin, the gunshot wound still in his chest. He sprinted up to the podium with the energy of a man without a gunshot wound in his chest.
"Y'all hittin' that dirty fuckin' yeet at my funeral?" he ejaculated. He raised his hand to thump me.
"Not so fast, pa." I grabbed his hand. "Yaint thumpin' no mo'."
My father looked at me with eyes as open as the gunshot wound in his chest. A tear fell from his right eye, which also had a monocle. "The student becomes the teacher," he said.
"The student becomes the yeetcher," I corrected him.
