Today Your Half-Baked Blow Up Angel In Your Bed Wants You To…(from the Annals of College Fuckery…Publicly Funded Debauchery) 

Realistic blow up dolls are a riot at any bachelor party…

But once the morning comes you’ve got to be happy with what ya got and sleepy beauty or wicked witch right next to you.  As a wise guru once said someplace high as a kite in Tibet back in the 11th Century, “Who you boinketh you becometh.” 

Fornitory of Fuckery

I still recall as if it were yesterday, dorm rooms and halls filled with the aroma of skunk and half-baked, half-naked women (some petite, skinny, fat, well-endowed, less-endowed, and still developing; the late bloomer virgins) dancing between the black lights and the neon sheets.  I had a fantasy about fucking a librarian foreign exchange student with glasses.  Don’t know why but something about ‘The Art Of Fornicatus Climactus’ in the dusty annals of Freshman or shall I say Freshwoman Uni history in the dusty graduate thesis section of the four story library really fired my neural pistons. 

You could be Bill Gates geeky cousin and still get your nerdy ass fucked and your cock sucked playing musical techno rooms.  The Dormitory of Decadence…you dream it those Sorority Pledges will come.  

The Learning Curvature 

I recall the day my roommate had his ass handed to him on his way out the dormitory for bashing in our big screen tv during a drunken rage.  Suddenly being gifted your own room during half-time was like a pot-enhanced dream come true.  Having a blunt while scoring a touchdown with One Hit Wonders or Bimbos Down Under.  

Maybe that was the whole point of wearing rosy-shaded glasses in only your PJs or Onesies with an open, heavily yellow-highlighted textbook in bed.  Sexology 101 and the required lab manual to include a jack rabbit vibrator, latex dildo, and a Costco size container of lube.  The all-nighter excuse to cram for your Not Enough Sex Ed course taking a whole new meaning with the hands-on application of Semenotics.   

Study Abroad on Sextacy Island or Mango Vagingo Paradise…

Because god knows in the near miss future your passport and visa will take you on a journey to Planet Sextacy.  The Sex Med of Boro Boro where you will cast away your stress in strobe-filled luxury bungalows full of Selena or Justin sexbots who will be your personal submissives in a masquerade ball of Tropical Tatas with the choicest herb this side of Mango Paradise.  

 © 2017 DIVE Publishing.  All Rights Reserved. 

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