Hello and welcome to today's Trilema Lifestyle article, titled "A little bit of that old world charm, style & grace"! This is the title because we will be exploring together jointly during its unfolding (wink wink nudge nudge) elements of old world and their associated charm, style and grace. Incidentally, for ten points, what'd you propose is the difference between style and grace (and for another thirty points, which is the principal source of charm, style or grace ? Explain your reasoning.)
This article so titled contains, aside elements aforementioned & otherwise unspecified among and besides overtop words uncounted and uncuntable (speaking of which, what'd it take to make an article unctuous, in your estimation, and what percentage of that requisite list is shared with what it'd take to make the same mellifluous ?) no less than sixty stills! And in any case also one animated vision too likewise as well! So lick your lips and forge ahead, because... ah! Did you realise I employ slave labour, by the way ? I don't simply mean, slave as in, slavs, people not-germane in their bloodline, we're not nazis over here. No, I mean, slave labour as in the work of hands of slaves, each of those stills was first processed by one girl, and then uploaded by another girl. If the processing takes a second then that's a minute spent by one ; and if the uploading takes a second then that's a minute spent by the other -- but they don't, do they, there's buttons to click and nubbins to press and besides, everything always takes longer than you'd expect. In any case, this article contains no less than two minutes of slave labour, extracted out of the willing skin of no less than two individual slavegirls. How do you feel about that ?
Because whichever way you feel, I'm here to tell you it's the cornerstone fo ye old world charm, the very font of its style and fountain of its grace. Don't believe me ? How come you can never seem to replicate it ailleurs, then ? Ou sont l'esclaves d'antan ?i
The header, by the way, is unrelated ; a mere projection of the new world's pristine beauty. For the needs of this discussion we may simply deem it a matter nominalist, or conceptualist if you prefer -- we could indeed say above all depicted thrones Masterii Me, shown metaphorically regarding the deluge of words personified. We could, of course, also say anyhing else, and therefore how could it ever be justified to say this rather than something different, and, putting the matter on its proper footing, why indeed something rather than nothing at all ?
Time, then, for a cup of coffee, a happy medium between the two (which two ? such two as there may be pairs of!)
O wait! Indeed that wasn't coffee, but rather soup, and in no case just two but in fact four, and to be perfectly honest to the bottom of the bitter cup, quite fucking delicious all!
Also, check out the bimbos!
Holy mackrel, tits! And chicks kissing! Will wonders never
crease cease ?
Here, admire my dancing soupsiii before your very eyes! (you have to click to see it)
But be all that as best it may -- you can't tell from the image below, as the camera's not capable of registering such subtle wonder, however my shirt's actually golden in some lights. It's a most imperial purple threaded such that at some angles it shines honeydew, precisely like Costa Rica's famous spider, the celebratediv Golden Orb Weaver. Just sayin'.
Guess what she's doing there,
udder under the flags ?
Yep, that's right, she's about to visit the "Instytut Pozytywnej Seksualności", which is Polish for "Institute for Positive Sexuality". Because that's how Polish goes, when in doubt add some dzjwyjscz and call it good -- it'll be pronounced /ʒ/ in any case, making the Poles a very dangerous sort of people : they're pretty much the only linguistic group very much in danger of mistaking industrial sounds for speech. Careful if you, for instance, use a can of compressed air to clean an old motherboard -- it's entirely possible the resulting vijiieli, indistinct as they may sound to your ear, nevertheless insult the Polish passerby's long dead relatives in the sauciest of manners. Based on my exposure to Polish phonetics during this trip, I can conclusively say no punctured hose is safe, no scraping sound may safely be ignored. Everything in that vein probably means, denotes or at the very least connotes something in Polish (most likely, poetry), so consider yourself warned and do not slack your guard.
But anyway, what the hell is she doing there ? Why, you see, kinky game board night got cancelled (through a chain of scandals and outrages we won't get into here, suffice it to say the venue burned down the day before) and so when asked for alternatives the unhappy organizer indicated there's a Gothic Fetish Party at Voodoo (which we were going to anyway, but more of that below) and a shibari thing by IPS that's probably sold out. We thus absolutely had to check it out, right ?
Anyway, we didn't stay, it turned out to be one of those samizdat things with lotta people gathered in an apartment, shoes off and sitting about on the floors, nothing but jeans and hemp/knitted ponchos like Woodstock were just around the corner. I didn't particularly feel like reliving the 80s, and none of the girls looked like anything I'd fuck anywayv As I told the very eager to help fellow, not really my scene. They get a plug though, for being extremely nice and accomodating -- they totally'd have pushed some of the pile of humanity to the side so we can pile in ourselves, if we were in the mood for such (by which "we" I mean "me", I just spelled the M upside down is all). Or if not there's also chairs at the back. So if it's your scene...
Here's a fountain, to metaphorically represent what happened right after the picture processing. Recall, I was discussing slave labour and how Trilema is crafted for your sensible pleasure oh so very long ago, it feels like a minute, it feels like a lifetime ? And then I was distracted, or more properly, I permitted myself to be distracted by some new world effluvia ?
Well, let's get back on track here, then. So earlier -- the girls are sleeping now, but before that, once the uploading was being done, I said to the other, "come here and suck my cock". All slow-like, she knows what she's doing. Then when I had enough of that I ordered the other on her face -- so you see, the uploading was interrupted -- and fucked her like that. How do you call it when the female lays face down on the bed, her knees together and her feet on the floor ? It's not doggy style, is it, that requires the knees be apart, folded under her belly, yes ?
But anyway, as I was fucking her thusly I had the other (that had just been sucking my cock, recall) stand over her (the first one, that had been uploading, and was now impounding, if we may thus call the receiptive interaction with a pounding) stand above her, which is a great position : if she bends forward we can kiss ; if she stands neutrally I can suckle on her tits ; and if she bends back and I bend down I can kiss her slit.
In fackt this brings us to the topic of today's article (no, none of the rest was the topic, all the rest was just danglies, okay ?) -- which is, sexual positions for a man his two sluts. Hence the title. But before we get into that, let me first recount the rest of the sprinkler system connotation, context and confabulation, lest it goes the way of Proust's madleine. You know that happens to memory, right ? Madlenization ? Anyways -- after I came, we took a short interlude, during which the slave that had start also finished the uploading ; then they were in the other room, finishing packing, so I gathered them back in my bed, having the other (than the one from before) suck my cock all slowly while cuddling and fondling the other (than the one from before, you're following alright, I hope ?). Then I sent the one (that was last the other) to help the other (that had started as being the other in this last episode) sucking me off, while straddling me, such that her delicious ass and its many merryments were very visible and quite accessible. Then after sufficient ministration in this manner I had the one (that was last the one) kneel on the bed, and proper-doggy-style'd her, while the one that was last the other suckled and fondled her tits. Except then I had the first one frig herself to (small) death, which, if you're following along (either at home or in groups) the mechanics involved you know requires her to be flat on the bed (so she can reach) thus therefore blocking the second one from fondling them but that's okay as I had better plans for her -- specifically standing by me so we make out while I fuck the other (that had been the one).
"Your kisses taste like penis and fake tits." I said, while using her hand to slap the doggy's butt (as this one's very averse to hurting anyone, she has something like 0.1 or less sadism in her). "I wonder if anyone else would ever notice" she retorted, which is a good point, it occurs to me. If your one's mouth tasted of penis and fake tits, would you notice ? Would the other notice ? Did you ever notice ? Because if you never noticed, maybe that explains why and wherewith and how come you're not even aware there's another ?
But let's not get sad, and instead stick to the merry -- heigh ho, the holly, anything but butt's just folly! The whore sitting doggyvi came and came and came and eventually I deemed it enough (though she's extremely well trained with the cummies, she can do all sorta manner of entertaining things, I'll tell you some other time maybe) so I had her turn on her back and the one with the tasty kisses go on top of them, and they made out while I pluged 'em moar and eventually I had the other strangle the one that was being fucked and then... you see how this all ties back down into the artesian fountains before, don't you ?
Good. Here's some feet then :
And that was a rack. Of ribs.
Can you believe, incidentally, that we're barely not even quite a dozen illustrations in ? I know at some point I must've said Trilema articles take me about twenty minutes to write, but lawds have mercy it's been twenty after twenty after twenty after twenty block (for a total of over an hour). Let's just say I rather had in mind the sort of article that I used to pen before, back when they were three-four-five maaaaybe six hundred words, none of this literary atrocity exceeding five thousand as we now stand not to even dare think of what may happen as the flow unfolds.vii
Above : extremely pretty old house, by my lights.
Below : the hebe store. They have these in Poland, it's a whole thing with the old city wall and whatnot. Supposedly it's also why the Germans didn't like them to the point of invading and so following, it's a long story.
Above : party time! (or as the alfs used to say, партбилет на стол!)
Below : corset in plan-detaille (which is funny because... you know, decollete...).
Above : enter, stage l!
Below : whoops, where did her clothes go!viii
Needless to interlude at this point by pointing out that of course photography's throughout and most serverely verboten in the dominions of ye club, and that the circumstance whereby no law, rule or regulation ever seems to by itself apply to me does scant nothing for you.
And yes I beat the other one as well. Of course I did. And there were other things, but... here, have an old domish churchlike thing instead. It's Kosciol Sw Aleksandra at Trzech Krzyzy square. Well not exactly, but anyways, more or less.
In my considered opinion, one of the things the Poles do best (besides punctured hose impromptu & extemporaneous interpretations) are ruins.
Above : slut shoes, high heel'd platforms and assorted paraphenalia from the 70s. Easily the swankiest sad old abandoned store I ever laidix eyes upon.
Below : ye old world charm, style & grace, as the title indicates.
You don't believe me ?
But why don't you believe me ?!
Are you believing yet, bitch ?
But yes, indeed, the perfect setting for a very highly protocolarly party! Nothing like that monkey sadness, nothing at all.
Below : wine hidey-hole.
Above you can admire Hannah biting my breadstick.
Don't worry about it, it's an insider joke. Insider, geddit ?
Mr. Bread Arrangement Guy sez "I knew you got it".
He knew it, you know ? He knew it all along, he knew it in his gut.
Thus our discussion ends, early but well -- with just deserts at another place. Because, if you think about it, that's all life's ever about, isn't it ? Just deserts at another place.
Buh-bye, and don't forget to repent before you die.———
Dictes moy où, n'en quel pays est Flora, la belle Romaine ; Archipiada, ne Thaïs, qui fut sa cousine germaine ; Echo, parlant quand bruyt on maine dessus rivière ou sus estan, qui beauté eut trop plus qu'humaine? Mais où sont les neiges d'antan!
Où est la très sage Heloïs, pour qui fut chastré et puis moyne Pierre Esbaillart à Sainct-Denys? Pour son amour eut cest essoyne. Semblablement, où est la royne qui commanda que Buridan fust jetté en ung sac en Seine? Mais où sont les neiges d'antan!
La royne Blanche comme ung lys qui chantoit à voix de sereine; Berthe au grand pied, Bietris, Allys; Harembourges qui tint le Mayne et Jehanne, la bonne Lorraine, qu'Anglois bruslerent à Rouen; Où sont-ilz, Vierge souveraine ? Mais où sont les neiges d'antan!
Prince, n'enquerez de sepmaine où elles sont, ne de cest an, qu'à ce refrain ne vous remaine: mais où sont les neiges d'antan!
That one's for you, bimbo -- I expect you intuit why. [↩]
- The word in this context merely denotes one schooled in the arts. [↩]
- Yes, I'm aware we had already moved past the soups at that point. Can we move on ? [↩]
- Because it weaves the world's strongest web, you see ?
These spiders regularly feed on small birds and bats, and that's not the whole story : they actually prefer them. Gram for gram, things larger than the spider account for less than a fifth of capture, but more than four fifths of sustenance. Let me say that again : for every five grams the spider catches, more than four are things smaller than it ; but for every five grams the spider eats, more than four are things larger than it. Sound familiar ? [↩]
- Actually, they looked Jane Fonda-stupid, if you've seen Klute and had the misfortune to live during the before times you probably know exactly what I mean. [↩]
- "Capra nu te nasti -- capra te pui." [↩]
- Get it, folds ? Bimbo tells me they call this callback in the biz. Don't
- Yes, that's right, I was saving this rhyme for ages. So now you know! [↩]
- Laid, geddit ? It's all about the getting laid! [↩]