Dylan was practicing his golf swing in his front yard when he swung a little too hard and sent the ball through his neighbors window. Dylan ran over and rang the doorbell three times. After no one answered for a few minutes, he opened the door to see broken glass everywhere, a lamp lying on the ground, and a huge fат Arabian man wearing a turban sitting on the couch. Dylan asked, "Who are you?" The fат man replied, "I am a genie you have freed from that lamp." Dylan questioned, "Oh man, do I get three wishes?" The genie replied, "Since you freed me by accident you only get two and I get one." Dylan thought about it and realized what he wanted, "I want to be the best golfer ever." The surprised genie said, "You sure? Most people wish for money, but okay. Now your wife gets one wish." Dylan brought over his wife who wished right away, "I want a million dollars every week of my life." The genie said, "Granted. And now for my wish, I have been cramped up in that lamp for many years so its been a while since I've been with a woman. I want one day of wild, crazy sеx with your wife, Dylan." Dylan said, "No way!" The genie replied, "Not even for a million dollars a week?" Dylan turned to his wife, who said, "I guess for all that, I should. Well, not until Dylan leaves." Dylan said, "Okay, have fun, I guess," and left. Dylan's wife then proceeded to have wild sеx for the rest of the day with the genie. When they were finished, the genie asked how old her husband was. She said, "Forty-five." The Genie laughed and said, "Isn't he a little old to be believing in genies?"
T here was a young lady named Alice
Who used dynamite for a phallus.
They found her vagina
In North Carolina,
Her аrsеhоlе in Buckingham Palace.
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Shouted Frosty the Snowman, “Hooray!
I’m agog with excitement today!
And the reason of course
A reliable source,
Said the snow blower’s heading this way!
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“When I see a monk’s аss I just grab it.”
Said the lazily amorus abbot.
“Although it’s more fun
To have sеx with a nun,
It’s so hard to get into the habit!”
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The niррlеs of Sarah Strong,
When excited, are twelve inches long.
This embarrassed her lover
Who was pained to discover
She expected no less of his dоng.
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There was a young fellow named Mel
Who didn’t like c*nt very well.
He would finger and fсuк one,
But never would suск one;
He just couldn’t get use to the smell.
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Said a dainty young whоrе named Miss Meggs,
“The men like to spread my two legs,
Then slip in between,
If you know what I mean,
And leave me the white of their eggs.”
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There was a young girl from Peru,
Who had nothing whatever to do.
So she sat on the stairs,
And counted c*nt hairs;
Four thousand, three hundred and two.
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There once was a man from St. Pauls
Who used to perform in the halls.
His favorite trick
Was to stand on his prick
And roll off the stage on his ваlls.
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A notorious whоrе named Miss Hearst
In the weakness of men is well versed.
Reads a sign o’er the head
Of her well-rumpled bed:
“The customer always comes first.”
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A fair haired young damsel named Grace
Thought it very foolish to place
Her hand on your cock
When it turned hard as rock
For fear it would explode in her face.
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There was a young man from Nantucket,
Took a pig in a thicket to fсuк it.
Said the pig, “Oh, I’m quееr,
Get away from my rear,
Come around to the front and I’ll suск it.”
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A woman and her son were taking a cab in New York City. It was raining and all the hookers were standing under the awnings.
“Mom,” said the little boy, “what are all those women doing?”
“They’re waiting for their husbands to get off work,” she replied.
The cabbie turns around and says, “Geez lady, why don’t you tell him the truth? They ‘re hookers, boy! They have sеx with men for money.”
The little boy’s eyes get wide and he says, “Is that true, Mom?”
His mother, glaring hard at the cabbie, answers in the affirmative.
After a few minutes, the kid asks, “Mom, what happens to the babies those women have?”
“Most of them become cab drivers,” she said.
Раddy and Colleen were making passionate love in Раddy’s mini van when suddenly Colleen, being a bit on the кinкy side, yells out, “Oh big boy, whip me, whip me!”
Раddy, not wanting to pass up this unique opportunity, obviously did not have any whips on hand, but in a flash of inspiration, he opens the window, snaps the antenna off his van and proceeds to whip Colleen until they both collapse in ecstasy.
About a week later, Colleen notices that the marks left by the whipping are starting to fester a bit so she goes to the doctor. The doctor takes one look at the wounds and asks, “Did you get these marks having sеx?”
Colleen, a little embarrassed that she has slept with Раddy (let alone that she allowed the кinкy boy to whip her) eventually admits that, yes, she did.
Nodding his head knowingly, the doctor exclaims, “I thought so, because in all my years as a doctor, you’ve got the worst case of van aerial disease that I’ve ever seen.
Dear Connie, …
…
I know the counsellor said we should’t contact each other during our “cooling off” period, but I could’t wait anymore.
…
The day you left, I swore I’d never talk to you again but that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that me pride’s cost me a lot of things. I’m tired of pretending I don’t miss you. Maybe it’s time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. …
…
This is what my heart says: “There’s no one like you, Connie. I look for you in the eyes and вrеаsтs of every woman I see, but they’re not you. They’re not even close.
Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingos and brought her home with me. I don’t say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19; with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Тiтs like you wouldn’t believe and an аss that just wouldn’t quit. Every man’s dream, right?
As I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we’ve made important in our lives. It’s all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I’m getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart that my moderately attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I’d never really thought of that before. I don’t know, maybe I’m just growing up a little.
Later, after I’d tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, “Why do I feel so drained and empty?” It wasn’t just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn’t feel the same because you weren’t there to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, Im just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn’t eating right without a woman around. I didn’t know what she meant till later, but that’s not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses or wine and the next thing you know, we’re ваnging away in our old bedroom. And this таrт’s a total monster in the sack. She’s giving me everything, you know, like a real woman does when she’s not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting mirror on your grandmother’s old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it’s totally hot, but it makes me sad, too because I can’t help thinking, “Why didn’t Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We’ve had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sеx toy.”
Saturday, your little sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicki’s just a kid and all, but she’s got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she’s been a real friend to me during this painful time. She’s given me lots of good advice about you and about women in general. She’s pulling for us to get back together. Connie, she really is.
So we’re doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about happier times. Here’s this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky’s really into that whole аnаl thing, that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how even then, when I’m thrusting inside your baby sister’s cinnamon ring, all I can do it think of you?
It’s true, Connie. In your heart you must know it. Don’t you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same please, please, please let me know.
Otherwise, can you let me know where the fuскing remote is?
When I was single, I never was into the whole bar scene. I just wasn’t very good at it. I never quite mastered the art of the “pick up line.”
For instance, there was this drop dead gorgeous blonde at this bar I went to one time. I dragged up my courage, walked over to her, and in my most suave voice said, “Hey, sеxy girl, can I buy you a drink?”
She diverted her gaze towards me. Gorgeous blue eyes. Beautiful ruby-red lips. Вrеаsтs to die for. She licked her lips and said, “Tell me, do you like sеx?”
Oh my. Better than I could have hoped for. “Yes, I love sеx.”
“Wonderful,” she said, coming a little closer, “Do you like to travel?”
“Oh yeah. I love to travel.”
“Good,” she said, “then fсuк off.”
A woman was nagging her husband to cut the grass, to which the husband answered, "What do I look like to you? A landscaper?!" Next time the sink was dripping, she asked him again, "Honey, can you fix the faucet?" The husband replied, "What do I look like to you? A Plumber?!" Two days later, a light bulb went out and she begged him again, "Honey, can you change the light bulb?" His reply was, "What am I? An electrician?!" A few days later, the husband comes home from work to find that the lawn is cut, the faucet is fixed, the light bulb is changed. Very surprised, he says, "Honey, what happened here?" The wife replies, "You know our new next door neighbor? He came over and fixed everything." The husband says, "Honey, how did you pay him?!"
"Oh, you know," the wife says, "he told me that I could either bake him a cake or have sеx with him." Somewhat relieved the husband asks, "Whew, so what kind of a cake did you bake for him?" The wife replies, "Who do you think I am? Betty Crocker?!"