â„–3358560[Quote]
There is some star too near the earth for I am still in a fever-fit of animal desire. Today I stopped short often in the street with an exclamation whenever I thought of the posts you made on /pol/ about moids and their nature which you most detest and my responses back to you. Perhaps their coarseness has disgusted you. I know you are a much finer nature than your extraordinary lover and though it was you yourself, you hot little slut, who first wrote saying that you were longing to be fucked by a sex man which took attention to your sensual and romantic desires. When I got your express response the other day and saw how careful you are of your worthless Sneedson I felt ashamed of what I had written. Yet now, night, secret sinful night, has come down again on the world and I am alone again writing to you and your letter is again folded before me on the table. Do not ask me to go to bed, dear. Let me write to you, dear.
As you know, dearest, I never expressed my love for you in such a boorish manner. You have never heard me, have you, utter an unfit word before you in regards to my sexual attraction to you my dearest. When men tell in my presence here filthy or lecherous stories I hardly smile. Yet you seem to turn me into a beast. It was you yourself, you naughty shameless girl who first led the way. It was not I who first touched you long ago down in a pol thread. It was you who hypnotised me with your immaculate and aristocratic personality and longing for man dicj . It was your lips too which first uttered an obscene word. I remember well that thread on pol. Tired of having to deal with cuckjeet and all the sexist anti-women threads you lashed out at the poster while i gazed unto you in perfect admiration and lusfule desire of your imagined scent and delicious body.
Moidslayer dear, I am dying all day to ask you one or two questions. Let me, dear, for I have told you everything I ever did and so I can ask you in turn. I wonder will you answer them. When that obsessed dutch poster whose heart I long to stop with the click of a revolver insulted you and called you a tranny and faggot did he at all offend or hurt your dlicated feelings? If he did, maybe we could take a romantic trip to Holland and fuck and have hot sweaty love making on the streets of Amsterdam in protest of his barbaric and pathetic attempt at bringing you down.
Another question, Nora. I know that I was the first man that is expressing such a lust for you but has anyone else done this? Did any boy you were fond of ever do it? Tell me now, moidslayer, truth for truth, honesty for honesty. When you were with him in the dark at night did your fingers never, never unbutton his trousers and slip inside like mice? Did you ever frig him, dear, tell me truly or anyone else? Did you never never, never feel a man's or a boy's prick in your fingers until you unbuttoned me? If you are not offended do not be afraid to tell me the truth. Darling, darling, tonight I have such a wild lust for your body that if you were here beside me and even if you told me with your own lips that half the red-headed louts of Galway had had a fuck at you before me I would still rush at you with desire.
God Almighty, what kind of language is this I am writing to my proud blue-eyed prince! Will he refuse to answer my coarse insulting questions? I know I am risking a good deal in writing this way, but if he loves me really she will feel that I am mad with lust and that I must be told all.
Sweetheart, answer me. Even if I learn that you too have sinned perhaps it would bind me closer to you. In any case I love you. I have written and said things to you that my pride would never again allow me to say to any man.
My darling moidslayer, I am panting with eagerness to get your replies to these filthy letters of mine. I write to you openly because I feel now that I can keep my word with you.
Don't be angry, dear, dear, moidslayer, my little wild-flower of the hedges. I love your body, long for it, dream of it.
Speak to me, dear lips that I have dreamt in tears. If this filth I have written insults you bring me to my senses again with the lash as you have done before. God help me!
I love you, moidslayer, and it seems that this too is part of my love. Forgive me! forgive me!
Love, Sneedson xxx.
â„–3358566[Quote]
>>3358560 (OP)>Moidslayer dear, I am dying all day to ask you one or two questions. Let me, dear, for I have told you everything I ever did and so I can ask you in turn. I wonder will you answer them. When that obsessed dutch poster whose heart I long to stop with the click of a revolver insulted you and called you a tranny and faggot did he at all offend or hurt your dlicated feelings? If he did, maybe we could take a romantic trip to Holland and fuck and have hot sweaty love making on the streets of Amsterdam in protest of his barbaric and pathetic attempt at bringing you down.top 10 story telling right here
â„–3358576[Quote]
>>3358560 (OP)is Sneedson the next great irish writer?
he made a reference too niche for any non irish to understand…
â„–3358577[Quote]
irish faggot group sex threda DNR DNI.
â„–3358580[Quote]
>There is some star too near the earth for I am still in a fever-fit of animal desire. Today I stopped short often in the street with an exclamation whenever I thought of the posts you made on /pol/ about moids and their nature which you most detest and my responses back to you. Perhaps their coarseness has disgusted you. I know you are a much finer nature than your extraordinary lover and though it was you yourself, you hot little slut, who first wrote saying that you were longing to be fucked by a sex man which took attention to your sensual and romantic desires. When I got your express response the other day and saw how careful you are of your worthless Sneedson I felt ashamed of what I had written. Yet now, night, secret sinful night, has come down again on the world and I am alone again writing to you and your letter is again folded before me on the table. Do not ask me to go to bed, dear. Let me write to you, dear.
>
>As you know, dearest, I never expressed my love for you in such a boorish manner. You have never heard me, have you, utter an unfit word before you in regards to my sexual attraction to you my dearest. When men tell in my presence here filthy or lecherous stories I hardly smile. Yet you seem to turn me into a beast. It was you yourself, you naughty shameless girl who first led the way. It was not I who first touched you long ago down in a pol thread. It was you who hypnotised me with your immaculate and aristocratic personality and longing for man dicj . It was your lips too which first uttered an obscene word. I remember well that thread on pol. Tired of having to deal with cuckjeet and all the sexist anti-women threads you lashed out at the poster while i gazed unto you in perfect admiration and lusfule desire of your imagined scent and delicious body.
>
>Moidslayer dear, I am dying all day to ask you one or two questions. Let me, dear, for I have told you everything I ever did and so I can ask you in turn. I wonder will you answer them. When that obsessed dutch poster whose heart I long to stop with the click of a revolver insulted you and called you a tranny and faggot did he at all offend or hurt your dlicated feelings? If he did, maybe we could take a romantic trip to Holland and fuck and have hot sweaty love making on the streets of Amsterdam in protest of his barbaric and pathetic attempt at bringing you down.
>
>Another question, Nora. I know that I was the first man that is expressing such a lust for you but has anyone else done this? Did any boy you were fond of ever do it? Tell me now, moidslayer, truth for truth, honesty for honesty. When you were with him in the dark at night did your fingers never, never unbutton his trousers and slip inside like mice? Did you ever frig him, dear, tell me truly or anyone else? Did you never never, never feel a man's or a boy's prick in your fingers until you unbuttoned me? If you are not offended do not be afraid to tell me the truth. Darling, darling, tonight I have such a wild lust for your body that if you were here beside me and even if you told me with your own lips that half the red-headed louts of Galway had had a fuck at you before me I would still rush at you with desire.
>
>God Almighty, what kind of language is this I am writing to my proud blue-eyed prince! Will he refuse to answer my coarse insulting questions? I know I am risking a good deal in writing this way, but if he loves me really she will feel that I am mad with lust and that I must be told all.
>
>Sweetheart, answer me. Even if I learn that you too have sinned perhaps it would bind me closer to you. In any case I love you. I have written and said things to you that my pride would never again allow me to say to any man.
>
>My darling moidslayer, I am panting with eagerness to get your replies to these filthy letters of mine. I write to you openly because I feel now that I can keep my word with you.
>
>Don't be angry, dear, dear, moidslayer, my little wild-flower of the hedges. I love your body, long for it, dream of it.
>
>Speak to me, dear lips that I have dreamt in tears. If this filth I have written insults you bring me to my senses again with the lash as you have done before. God help me!
>
>I love you, moidslayer, and it seems that this too is part of my love. Forgive me! forgive me!
>
>Love, Sneedson xxx.
â„–3358588[Quote]
>>3358587what are we testing?
â„–3358596[Quote]
test zhzhzhzhzh test (((test))) ssssddd
â„–3358602[Quote]
>>3358576a man can dream…
â„–3358620[Quote]
MMMmmmmmm…. Tasty
â„–3358624[Quote]
>>3358620-100 aura broom nametroon pidor
â„–3358629[Quote]
>>3358624stop saging this beautiful piece of irish literature
â„–3358644[Quote]
beautiful writing, op
â„–3358669[Quote]
>>3358664do you fap to wenda?
â„–3358893[Quote]
>There is some star too near the earth for I am still in a fever-fit of animal desire. Today I stopped short often in the street with an exclamation whenever I thought of the posts you made on /pol/ about moids and their nature which you most detest and my responses back to you. Perhaps their coarseness has disgusted you. I know you are a much finer nature than your extraordinary lover and though it was you yourself, you hot little slut, who first wrote saying that you were longing to be fucked by a sex man which took attention to your sensual and romantic desires. When I got your express response the other day and saw how careful you are of your worthless Sneedson I felt ashamed of what I had written. Yet now, night, secret sinful night, has come down again on the world and I am alone again writing to you and your letter is again folded before me on the table. Do not ask me to go to bed, dear. Let me write to you, dear.
>
>As you know, dearest, I never expressed my love for you in such a boorish manner. You have never heard me, have you, utter an unfit word before you in regards to my sexual attraction to you my dearest. When men tell in my presence here filthy or lecherous stories I hardly smile. Yet you seem to turn me into a beast. It was you yourself, you naughty shameless girl who first led the way. It was not I who first touched you long ago down in a pol thread. It was you who hypnotised me with your immaculate and aristocratic personality and longing for man dicj . It was your lips too which first uttered an obscene word. I remember well that thread on pol. Tired of having to deal with cuckjeet and all the sexist anti-women threads you lashed out at the poster while i gazed unto you in perfect admiration and lusfule desire of your imagined scent and delicious body.
>
>Moidslayer dear, I am dying all day to ask you one or two questions. Let me, dear, for I have told you everything I ever did and so I can ask you in turn. I wonder will you answer them. When that obsessed dutch poster whose heart I long to stop with the click of a revolver insulted you and called you a tranny and faggot did he at all offend or hurt your dlicated feelings? If he did, maybe we could take a romantic trip to Holland and fuck and have hot sweaty love making on the streets of Amsterdam in protest of his barbaric and pathetic attempt at bringing you down.
>
>Another question, Nora. I know that I was the first man that is expressing such a lust for you but has anyone else done this? Did any boy you were fond of ever do it? Tell me now, moidslayer, truth for truth, honesty for honesty. When you were with him in the dark at night did your fingers never, never unbutton his trousers and slip inside like mice? Did you ever frig him, dear, tell me truly or anyone else? Did you never never, never feel a man's or a boy's prick in your fingers until you unbuttoned me? If you are not offended do not be afraid to tell me the truth. Darling, darling, tonight I have such a wild lust for your body that if you were here beside me and even if you told me with your own lips that half the red-headed louts of Galway had had a fuck at you before me I would still rush at you with desire.
>
>God Almighty, what kind of language is this I am writing to my proud blue-eyed prince! Will he refuse to answer my coarse insulting questions? I know I am risking a good deal in writing this way, but if he loves me really she will feel that I am mad with lust and that I must be told all.
>
>Sweetheart, answer me. Even if I learn that you too have sinned perhaps it would bind me closer to you. In any case I love you. I have written and said things to you that my pride would never again allow me to say to any man.
>
>My darling moidslayer, I am panting with eagerness to get your replies to these filthy letters of mine. I write to you openly because I feel now that I can keep my word with you.
>
>Don't be angry, dear, dear, moidslayer, my little wild-flower of the hedges. I love your body, long for it, dream of it.
>
>Speak to me, dear lips that I have dreamt in tears. If this filth I have written insults you bring me to my senses again with the lash as you have done before. God help me!
>
>I love you, moidslayer, and it seems that this too is part of my love. Forgive me! forgive me!
>
>Love, Sneedson xxx.
â„–3358902[Quote]
>>3358893Kek what is this
â„–3358903[Quote]
wow
â„–3358914[Quote]
>>3358902nusois don't know what slopjaks are anymore…
â„–3358916[Quote]
wrap it up I1
â„–3358921[Quote]
>>3358914I know what a slopjak is,its just you dont see them very often
â„–3358978[Quote]
>>3358560 (OP)While I wrote my previous correspondence to you i was so overcome with sexual desire, I pulled pulled myself off twice while I await your response. I am delighted to ponder on your deepest sexual wants. Yes, now I can remember that night when I sweated through my bedsheets ever lustfully longing for your sweet tender skin against mine while jerking it. It was the dirtiest fucking I ever did, darling. My prick was stuck up for you for hours, jerking in and out under your against the open window with the air blowing wistfully against my shaft. I imagined your fat sweaty buttocks under my belly and your flushed face and mad eyes. At every jerk I gave to you, I dreamt of your shameless tongue come bursting out through your lips and if I gave you a bigger stronger fuck than usual fat dirty farts came spluttering out of your backside. You probably have an arse full of farts , darling, and I wish I could fuck them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole. It is wonderful to fuck a farting man when every fuck drives one out of her. I think I would know your fart anywhere. I think I could pick you out in a roomful of farting men. It is a rather girlish noise not like the wet windy fart which I imagine fat husbandos have. It is sudden and dry and dirty like what a bold girl would let off in fun in a school dormitory at night. I hope moidslayer will let off no end of his farts in my face so that I may know their smell also.
Hopefully when we finally embrace in person you will suck me off and you want me to lick your nutsack, you little depraved blackguard. I hope you will surprise me some time when I am asleep dressed, steal over me with a whore's glow in your slumbrous eyes, gently undo button after button in the fly of my trousers and gently take out your lover's fat mickey, lap it up in your moist mouth and suck away at it till it gets fatter and stiffer and comes off in your mouth. Sometime too I shall surprise you asleep, lift up your briefs gently, then lie down gently by you and begin to lick lazily round your pubic mound. You will begin to stir uneasily then I will lick the belled of my prince's member. You will begin to groan and grunt and sigh and fart with lust in your sleep. Then I will lick up faster and faster like a ravenous dog until your cock is a mass of spnk and your body wriggling wildly.
Goodnight, my little farting moidslayer, my dirty little fuckbird! There is one lovely word, darling, you have underlined to make me pull myself off better. Write me more about that and yourself, sweetly, dirtier, dirtier.
SNEEDSON
â„–3358989[Quote]
>>3358978was james joyce really such a depraved lustfilled sodomite?
â„–3358992[Quote]
>>3358990everything kkkeltikkk is a gem
â„–3358997[Quote]
>>3358992weren't you an anglophile doe
â„–3358998[Quote]
>>3358997argentiniasn will never understand the mindset of a sensitive anglophiliac irish patriot
â„–3359021[Quote]
>>3359002I still await my dearest moidslayer's response, the thought of him reading my lustful screeds about him expressed in this thread with his mouth agape and a pitched tent in his briefs fills me with a euphoric aura most indescribable