Better way to put it. Shit be rocking my shit. But, some people use it to suppress things I wonder how. How do I hop on that wave. But, I'm just a goofball who knows nothing. It definitely open doors to psychosis and schizophrenia. I approach it with caution my gf wants to smoke but it's illegal out here.

@yaasshat Gorilla grip. Schizophrenia meds. Life long porn addiction desensitized. To much in my head trying to give out good dick and keep it hard enough so i never relax and enjoy. Stress. Performance stress. I'm fucking cooked mate. I think my lack of interest in cumming is because I rarely feel shit. But, I always been like that. I just make sure she gets hers and I could care less about mine cause it just stress me out. Only rarely do I feel like oh shit this is good it's not her fault I'm just not senstive. Mega cooked it is what it is. I'm thankful for these pills or she wouldn't cum no times. Also, I'm a narcissist sex with someone who doesn't feel alot of emotions can't be that hot but she say it's hot. Idk man I gotta work on my sex life. I got a understanding gf so that's nice. Dick problems hit different it feels like you going insane. Whoever cooked up them pills is a life saver.

It’s not that men don’t have emotions, or that they aren’t allowed to cry. Being a man isn’t just a gender, it’s a role. And that role dictates that there’s a time and place for emotion. In a crisis people need men to be the pillars of support and strength. Actions need to be taken and urgency dictates there’s no time for being emotional. However, when the immediate crisis is over, even die hard tough guys can break down and cry. It’s keeping your emotions in check at the appropriate times that make you a man. Keeping your anger in check when talking to women. Keeping fear in check dealing with a crisis. Keeping your hormones in check and when they aren’t appropriate for the situation. Crying during sad movies is totally acceptable. It’s time and place.

Hi, I stumbled upon this site while looking for new anime web sites. I love Ghibli films and am looking for new friends to talk about anime with.

“Shut up and leave the man be.” Another voice boomed out from the cell across from Kathos. It belonged to Ka’taarka, the Orc Beserker. The other slaved booed the guard and threw their waste buckets at him as he stormed off in embarrassment “Kathos.” The Orc called out. “What troubles a champion these days?” he asked with a chuckle, the other slaves laughed softly. Kathos, let out a small laugh, “Nothing. I got blood in my eye and need a good fucking.” The prisoners laughed and howled in response. “So long as the Mighty Kathos is ok.” Ka’taarka stated. “I’m fine. I’m…” everyone leaned in waiting for what he had to say, but another guard came in and interrupted the talk, “Kathos. Get yourself cleaned up. You will be escorted to your wet-prize shortly.” The prisoners howled again in praise of their hero. Kathos was handed a large bucked of hot water and the guard walked off. Kathos slowly poured the water over himself. “Kathos.” The Orc called out once more, “If you get a thick one, make sure you slap her ass for me.” Everyone laughed and shook their cages. Several guards came back to escort him to his wet-prize. The moon was half-full, the stars bright, and the people were merrily drunk in the streets. Some people recognized him as he was being escorted, “Ares favors the Mighty Kathos! Cheers to our bloody titan!” People cheered out and toasted. He smiled lightly in response. He arrived at the doors of a two story building, where the chatter of the upper class could be hear. The doors opened and Kathos was greeted by a woman servant, “Thank you guards, you won’t be need from here. Lord Arkus will send for you when necessary.” She courtly stated. The guards bowed in response then left. The kind lady daintily weaved her arm around his, then led him through the doors. Inside was a lavish party, decorations made of gold and fine materials as always. Lord Arkus was always one to throw the liveliest of parties. People danced and told stories, some engaged in small talk, several groups of people were having sex in front of everyone. Lord Arkus, the rich man who owned the colleseum and blessed his fight, stumbled and frolliced over to Kathos. The smell of wine was intense on this aristocrat, “Kathos, you mad ox. Come to enjoy the celebration I see.” Arkus leaned against the muscled titan, and ran his hand against Kathos’ stomach to his chest,” have you finally decided to enjoy the pleasures of a man. I could show you a thing or two.” Kathos wiped Arkus’ hand from his body “No Thank You.” The rich man’s face reddened, but before he cold say anything, “Lord Arkus, it is a well-known fact that our beast champion loves to indulge in the flesh of women.” It was Ab-dallah, and he led both Kathos and the woman servant away before anything else could be said. “Some day Kathos, I will enjoy those muscles against me!” Arkus said before gulping the last of his wine. “Apologies, Kathos. Seems that Lord Arkus refuses to give up on mounting your flesh. Don’t let that spoil your appetite though, I’ve brought your favorite this time.” Kathos’ chest enlarged to that last statement Ab-dallah had made. Before arriving at another door, Ab-dallah shooed the woman servant away. “Kathos, I sense a certain trouble about you. Something looms over you. Speak boy.” Ab-dalla demanded. Kathos looked down the hallway towards the balcony where the moon and stars could be seen. “Nothing. I just needed to get out of my cell.” The giant quietly stated. “Ah. Well lucky for you, I’ve managed to work out a deal of getting you a full nights rest. Enjoy your wet-prize sir.” Ab-dallah smiled as he shoved the door open. Inside was the servant woman who was now topless and 12 other women, some slender and delicate and a few voluptuous; There on the far right was his favorite, Caramilla. A very curvaceous woman, tan skinned, and chest nut hair. The door was closed behind him, then the women set upon him and undressed his massive body. This isn’t the first time Caramilla has been his wet-prize. Kathos has had enough encounters with her to where there was this unspoken ritual between the two. Caramilla would help kathos fuck the other women until they went crazy, then they would make love and enjoy the rest of his time alone. With the other women sated and Caramilla pleased, Kathos lay there with his favorite, her head on his chest, tracing her fingers along his skin, “I heard you won again. Another victory for an amazing man. All hail Ka-,” before she could finish, Kathos grabbed her hand. She could feel his unease. “My love, what troubles you?” There was a long silence, “Cara…have you ever thought about leaving?” She rose from his chest quickly, checking to see if anyone was around or if the other women were awake, “Kathos, they would kill you for talking of such things.” He gave a light chuckle, brought her back and kissed her head, “They couldn’t even if they wanted to.” He calmly stated. “I’ve never once thought of freedom until today. I have been happy-, I have…I.” He was lying. Kathos was never happy, save for the brief moments with Caramilla. “I was called mongrel. I had nothing to say against that fact. I lost my will to live a long time ago.” Kathos just stared up into the ceiling. “I want more than this life. For me, for you. I want to live Cara. I want to feel the wind of my face again. I don’t want you to have to bed anyone else anymore.” Cara’s heart was racing against his body, “What will you do then?” she asked her giant, holding her breath. “I don’t know.” He blankly stated after a hard pause. “I have no skills aside from fighting. I don’t remember the life I had before I became a slave. All I have are scars and nightmares.” Kathos said, broken and sad. She curled up to her love to comfort him, “Kathos, freedom is a wonderful dream, but if you have no ground to build upon, your dream will never rise.” He lay there pondering her words. “I would leave with you, but your strength alone would only get us so far.” She was right. Both wise and beautiful, a rare flower indeed. The night drifted on into morning. When Kathos awoke, he was alone in bed. The words Caramilla spoke were heavy to him. Guards came to retrive him after he had breakfast, he was returned to his cell, his kenne. “A night like yours, with the scent of women still on you, yet your shoulders still hang with sandess. Kathos, please speak to me my friend.” Ka’taarka’s voice sounded as if he was in physical pain. Kathos plopped onto his bedding, instinctually wanting to look back hoping his woman was there. “Freedom,” he finally spoke, but in was in Orcish. “When I fought the Executioner yesterday, he called me a coward and a trained mongrel. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him he was wrong, because I knew he spoke the truth.” Kathos sat rubbing his knuckles. --The word count limit makes this a bit difficult.