Podcasts about Booty

Please welcome our new host, Lee!Theme music by: @recordfuzz and @alexfossellaDiscord link at Patreon.com/shonenjumpthesharkRemember to leave a 5-Star review for the show! Join our Discord (link free at the Patreon)!If you like the show, feel free to drop us an email at shonenjumptheshark@gmail.com with any of your questions, comments, or thoughts on the show! If you love the show and want some more Shonen Jump the Shark content, subscribe to the Patreon and you'll get one bonus episode per month where we review an anime movie! You'll also feel good in your heart!

Doc Walker welcomes on former Philadelphia Eagles defensive back John Booty to discuss how much the NFL landscape has changed since his playing days. Booty shares his thoughts on the Eagles' start to the season, why their run game hasn't looked the same as last year, and why the defense hasn't been as dominant as it once was.

Hour 3 1:12 - Lynnell Reacts to Terry's Setback & Says No Excuses for the Passing Game 15:29 - John Booty on Today's NFL & the Eagles' Early Season Struggles 28:45 - Dodgers-Blue Jays Game 5 Preview

Booty call gone bad. Actual drugs found in the Halloween candy! Tootsie Roll debate 2025. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Playlist: HUSKIE - EverknowSAFRON - TRAP HOUSEPachanga Boys - Poem For The YouthStillhead - SexualTensnake - See Right Through YouFractal Fantasy - Steamy Boy Swag (Martyn Bootyspoon Remix)BRII - Super Shy (Brii Flip)Handsome Tiger - BACARDI PAPI - VV Pete (Handsome Tiger flip)Magic Flowers - SING IT BACKCOBRAH - Brand New BitchBrandy - Sittin In My Room (Sinjin Hawke)DJ Polo - Autumn LeavesJan Driver - Rat AlertFeater - Expensive ZeitLavender Lemon - Babyweight (Justin Martin Edit)Skrillex, four tet - ButterfliesFlava D - Love StoryD.MO - 128 Smoke and MirrorsNIE X YOUNG FRESH - WORK - A$AP FERG (NIE X YOUNG FRESH)BRLLNT - Can't help myself (BRLLNT EDIT)

Throwback Drop Our 5th episode of I Feel Like Podcast ever! AI remastered for better quality! (It was our start) Tee, Dejohn, TonyThumbs and our boy Chauz as a guest! We dive into a variety of topics ranging from current events, personal/work experiences, daily struggles, and relationships!We're uploading our older episodes to audio platforms exclusively every Thursday!Don't forget to follow us on all the socials to stay locked in with the squad and never miss an update!Join our Discord to get your questions answer on the podcast!Discord: https://discord.gg/JTfTb77FVRInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/ifl_podcast?igsh=c3VnOWJ4MnZqbzc0&utm_source=qrSpotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/0y3ujO98ykCUUl9jGrTOp7?si=WVo1r6RRS9OyRD8A-Ffj_AApple Podcast: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/i-feel-like-podcast/id1491985343

The Glynnwood Project: The Long-Awaited Return”After months of anticipation, The Glynnwood Project is finally back—and it's everything the listeners hoped for and more. In this explosive new episode, hosts Hurt, T, Arie, and Producer Pooh reunite behind the mic to serve up a mix of real talk, humor, and deep reflection straight out of Savannah.The crew kicks things off by diving into listener questions, tackling everything from relationships to real-life dilemmas with their signature blend of wit and wisdom. From there, they turn up the energy with sports talk, debating recent NFL and NBA moves and tossing a few hilarious jabs at each other's favorite teams.But this episode hits deeper too—addressing the heartbreaking news of Kyren Lacy's death, with the team pausing for a heartfelt moment of remembrance, reflection, and perspective on how fleeting life can be.Listeners are then introduced to a brand new fan-favorite segment, “The World According to Al”, where special guest Al drops his unfiltered, hilarious, and unexpectedly insightful takes on everything happening in the world.The episode continues with an exclusive discussion on the shocking new documentary “The Perfect Neighbor”.Before wrapping, the vibe shifts into creative mode for “While You Were Sleeping”, a showcase of new and undiscovered music. The Glynnwood crew premieres fresh tracks from rising artists and even flex their tech creativity—making an A.I.-generated song live on the spot, blending human soul with machine rhythm in true Glynnwood fashion.By the end, fans are laughing, thinking, and vibing—reminded exactly why The Glynnwood Project remains one of the most authentic and unpredictable voices in podcasting.

The new Rumps & Bumps jersey just dropped! Check out afterpartyinc.com. It's the Halloween Edition of the After Party and for this one we invite our friends over from P.R.I to come on share some spooky stories and they also bring some of their EMF devices for us to check out! They also tell us about some of the spooky places they've investigated and personal encounters. Follow us on social media @AaronScenesAfterParty

Show Opener Locals Guide Secret Sound Sarge's Ex Girlfriends Celebrity Scoop With Producer Rosie On This Day Booty Rest Peter Powers The Hypnotist Canoe Club Fundraiser See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This week the guys kick things off discussing the Mayor election in New Orleans (0:15) followed by touching on the young republicans deplorable group text (12:57). RIP to the r&b legend D'Angelo (25:25). Podcast fights (31:15) Serena Williams husband Alexis Ohanian pulls up to First Take (37:36) is Stephen A Smith anti black (41:53). NBA Youngboys concert drama (48:57) Hollywood Nicky goes on a rant about getting a vasectomy (57:18). Angel Reese walking in the Victoria Secret fashion show (1:04:22) and much more so tune in.......... https://linktr.ee/ToxicMasculinityIssues

(you'll probably want to stay for the outro on this episode)The gang is back and in person this week as the league reaches the halfway point of the regular season!The guys pick 3 teams who had high expectations that haven't been met. How panicked should these managers be?They also drop a new Guarantee (no spreads this time, of course), preview a pivotal Week 7, and Tim explains calf illnesses.THIS LEAGUE!!! is a unique fantasy football podcast covering the best and most competitive fantasy football league in the land. Keep up with all the scores and transactions at www.thisleaguepod.com . Have a question or suggestion? We want to hear from you! Follow us on Twitter and Instagram @ThisLeague_Pod .Don't forget to BOOM that "like" button, subscribe, and share us with other fantasy lovers in your life!

Playlist: HUSKIE - Everknow

In S5Ep9 of the PRP, Adam saddles up with distance-running drip lord, group run superconductor, enlightened suffer-well philosopher and consistently inconsistent marathon dreamer Jeff Tyrone Vito, who had been preparing for the Chicago Marathon on Sunday October 12th, 2025. Elliot Osoteo, proud Pinoy pacer, charismatic community conduit, and all around empathy engine of the Must Be Nice Collective, returns to the pod to reflect on finding purpose through loss, community through art, and joy in the slow miles that lead to self empowerment.The lads crack open conversations about structure, struggle, and showing up—especially when the mind tries to talk you out of your own potential. Vito reflects on stepping into Saddler's Saddles—his first time trading full running independence for coaching guidance—and discovering that sometimes the real growth comes from letting someone else hold the map while you find your own rhythm. From battling self-doubt to embracing accountability, he shares how finding more structure in training has opened up more freedom in life—reminding us all that forcing the process kills the joy, and at the end of the day, isn't joy the whole point? In other words, the less he tries to control the recipe, the more the universe seasons it just right.Things get vulnerable when Elliot opens up about running the Detroit Free Press Marathon on the one-year anniversary of his mother's passing. Instead of being paralyzed by grief, he's learned to run with it—letting memory fuel movement and presence soften pain. Together, the duo explores how identity can warp when you cling too tightly to performance, how slowing down can really be a form of strength, and why documenting the sport is its own kind of stewardship. You don't have to be the one pinning on the bib to build the culture—often times the lens, the support, or the vibe is the contribution.Must Be Nice mischief?! Saddler-certified?? Confusing showers?? Vito's vengeance? Married to the game? Booty call bedtimes?? Quiche, honey croissants and crumb-covered naps oh my!This and so much more in this hilarious, heartfelt and sneakily profound episode of the PRP.Sponsors⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Up & Running Performance⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Ann Arbor Running Company⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Recorded Wednesday October 1st @ 10:00AM EST

Feelers, we're back, and this one's extra special. In partnership with Boobs, Booty, and Body (BBB), a brand built on the belief that every body deserves intentional, specialized care, we're diving deep into what self-care really looks like in adulthood. Amidst all the noise of daily life, how do we truly show up for our bodies?Joining us are our wonderful Plus Ones: returning +1 Zane, a creative and professor, and Justine, Brand Manager at BBB. Together, we explore everything from breast cancer awareness to the personal rituals that help us feel grounded, confident, and at home in our bodies. This episode is a reminder, a celebration, and a love letter to our bodies in all their forms and phases.LIKED THIS EPISODE? DONATE!Bank: UNIONBANK OF THE PHILIPPINESAccount Name: Gian Viatka MalizonAccount #: 1094-3040-2314SUPPORT & SUBSCRIBE!Youtube: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://bit.ly/feelingsxplained⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Facebook: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.facebook.com/feelingsxplained⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/feelingsxplained⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Tiktok: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.tiktok.com/@feelingsxplained⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Twitter: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://twitter.com/feelingsxplnd ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

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It's a pirates life for mehttps://linktr.ee/FromBehindTheBarcast

If you're biggest distraction at work is a co-workers hot booty, is it really that bad? Fun start to the week!!!

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 1 When Glen Zane Braxton is accidentally accepted into a fundamentalist women s college. In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels. Leading up to the first day of college. Every old trick was invented by someone once upon a time. A Little Background: Hi. My name is Glenn Zane Braxton but everyone calls me Zane. I'm a good-looking (or so I'm told) athletic kid just over six feet tall and just under two hundred pounds. I get my Nordic looks from my Mom who hails from Norway. I apparently get my optimistic attitude and loose moral structure from my Dad, though I was to learn that Mom was a bit freaky too. My parents were killed in a rock climbing accident when I was fifteen so I was sent to live with my Uncle Tim (Dad's younger brother) and Aunt Jill. Unfortunately for me, while my parents had been rich hedonists, Tim and Jill were fundamentalist Christians doing missionary work in northern Thailand. I spent the next two-and-a-half years in a place where a paved road was a luxury. I have nothing against Christianity; I consider myself a decent Christian but I believe my faith stops at the next person's 'I'm not interested'. My aunt and uncle were a very different breed. They believed that it was every Christian's duty to convert our little brown brothers and sisters (no shit, this is what Tim told me) whether they wanted it or not. Needless to say, I witnessed them busting their self-righteous heads against the faith and traditions of these ancient people they'd come to 'help enlighten,' while I learned all about Thai culture, cuisine, and kick-boxing. I learned that spending time with Thai women was a hell of a way to get another kind of education too. On the down side, Tim beat me whenever he found out about the women. To get back at him, I spent time with Buddhist monks - score one for the Zen! Three months ago there was an incredibly brutal monsoon and something possessed Tim to go down to the river to save people. Since every sane individual was running away from the river, I pleaded that we go with the people that actually knew what was going on. Instead, I ended up with my Aunt and Uncle hip deep in the muddy water when an uprooted tree hit Tim and Jill. Like a fool I jumped into the flood waters after them. I got to Jill - Tim was a goner. Afterwards, when I realized that no Tim meant a return to the States, I was not crying tears of joy - that would have been cruel. After they gave up the search for Tim, Jill and I returned to Western Civilization. Jill surprised me by actually having a college degree that was useful and she got a job in Virginia working as an insurance adjuster for a nice sized company. I had completed my high school credits online back in Thailand and passed my college entrance exam so I was looking forward to partying it up somewhere far away from Jill. Fate has a funny way of laughing at me, though. For some byzantine reason, Dad set up my trust fund so that I would get a fraction of my inheritance when I turned eighteen, as long as I was in an institution of higher learning approved of by Tim and Jill - now just Jill. Otherwise, I had to wait until I was twenty-one. I wanted to go to the University of Hawaii Jill found a nice little place close to what she called home, real close. Speaking of home; our living arrangements were courtesy of Tim's generous insurance policy and his own little share of Dad's family's money. She bought us an expansive two-story spread with nice large yards, front and back, right where the countryside hits the suburbs. I wished we had a pool and even offered to dip into my own funds to have one put in but since pools were 'cesspits of depravity' Jill nixed the notion. Getting a car was also an interesting discussion. Jill said 'no way' and wouldn't budge until we noticed that our neighbors were two nice looking ladies in their twenties (I guessed). On the day we moved in I went over to talk (I'm drawn to women like a comet to the Sun) and spent over an hour getting to know them. There were two big pluses about their place; one was the large pool in back, which the girls (there turned out to be more than two) promised I could use whenever I wanted, real nice of them. The other one was, When I got home I told Jill not to worry about the car; the cute lesbian couple offered to pick me up from school whenever I needed a ride. "Are they atheists?" Jill gasped. Apparently them being homosexuals wasn't enough? "Nah, they are Wiccans," I lied again with a smile. We went car shopping the next day. I figured I would tell Jill we lived next to a sorority house (to the other university in town) at some later date. What Not to Wear Moving in turned out to be half the battle for my life at the new house. Next came the clothing war. Personally, I think I look great naked and do wonderful with people of the female persuasion but in Virginia they arrest you for this. Since I only have a twenty percent chance of being taken in by a female police officer (or the five percent of the male officers who are out and-out homosexuals), I'm going to go to jail if I go around nude. My solution was to look around the local teenage hangouts, websites, and social networks to get me a style that would be both individualistic yet fit in. Aunt Jill was of the opinion that my school uniform (see below) would be my normal look. When I told her I'd use my own money to get what I wanted she threatened to throw them out because I was still living under her roof. I got pissed off and since my outlet options were pretty limited, I stupidly went to my room and did what every teenage boy should never do when their female guardian is at home - maybe I have malaria and the fever was clouding my thought processes. In Thailand I would simply go out into the jungle Jill never went out into the wilderness if she could help it. There was no jungle and Jill knew right where my room was, and since it was her house, she barged right in. Half way through giving me a piece of her mind Jill noticed me, the Vaseline, the box of Kleenex, and what my hand was pumping. I yanked the comforter on my bed, trying to cover myself, which resulted in my flipping off the bed (I was sitting on the comforter) and rolling to Jill's feet. Jill stood there with her mouth wide open, eyes glued to my cock. I stopped pumping but my rod wouldn't go down despite my shame, not of my erection but because I didn't like sexually taunting a recent widow. "That's, that's disgusting," she gasped while still fixated on my erection. I wiggled around so that I could pull up my underwear and slacks. Once my cock was under cover Jill started harping on me. "You vile pervert," she seethed. "What is the meaning of you showing your, thing to me? You are filthy. Wash your sheets then wash your hands then never do this again." "Um, Jill, Aunt Jill, I'm an eighteen-year-old male. I need to masturbate," I informed her. "Not in this house," she said shrilly. I grabbed the tissues and Vaseline, then headed for the door. "Where are you going?" she worried. "Into the woods out back," I answered as I tried to move past her. "I kind of need to finish this." "You will do no such thing," Jill gasped as she grabbed my arm, "you might be seen, and it's wrong." First priority for Jill was social appearances while my spiritual well-being was somewhat less important at that moment. "Jill," I cautioned her, "I really need to knock one out. I'm stressed." Jill grabbed the Vaseline and tissues from my hands, not because she was stronger but because in my own twisted way, I still acknowledged Jill as my authority figure; not much of one, but one nonetheless. Ripping them away from her wasn't an option so, "Jill, you are my only parent now. I need to come to you about, things sexual," I suggested. "No," Jill responded with some shock. "There will be no sex in this house. You will have sex when you are married and not before, ever. Even then, sex is only for procreation." "Jill, I'm not a virgin," I informed her. Her jaw dropped but I'm not sure if it was shock, horror, or something else. "You've had sex with a girl?" she whispered. "Aunt Jill, I had twenty girlfriends back at the mission," I related. "Did, Did Tim know? How did it happen? When did you do it?" she stammered. "Tim knew; that is why he kept beating my ass. "It happened simply enough; we would be bathing down at the river and if we liked what we'd seen and if things clicked, we'd go fool around. Sometimes we'd kiss and touch and sometimes we'd have sex; you know, blowjobs, cunnilingus, vaginal and anal sex," I continued. "Gack, ah, oh, God preserve me," Jill sputtered. "As for when, the best time was right after Bible study when you and Tim were preoccupied with the parents and us kids could sneak off to a house and fool around in the common room, and then couples would pair up and have sex in the bedrooms," I finished. "Oh, poor Tim," Jill moaned as she slumped against the door sill. "Can I have my stuff and go now?" I asked softly. "No," she snapped. We kind of stood there for a minute before she asked, "Were you sneaking peeks of me at the river?" "Umm," I half turned away, "yeah, I did." Jill looked offended. "You are very sexy, Jill," I attempted to mollify her. It didn't work. "You pervert, you freak, that's incest. It is against God's Laws!" she screamed at me. "Jill, we are not blood related, and I never said I actually wanted to sleep with you, only that you have a very nice body," I countered calmly. "Shut up! Stop talking," she shouted, before storming off, leaving me even more frustrated. An hour later Jill sent me out to get some pizza but when I got back she wasn't in the house, though her car was still in the garage. I smelled smoke and followed the scent out into the backyard. I saw what Jill was doing; she didn't need to tell me what she was up to but she did it anyway. "I think we need to put your misspent time in Thailand behind you," she announced, "so I've decided it is best to get rid of all the clothes, books, and statues you brought back." "You should have asked me," I stated. Of course, this meant War. "You are awash in sin, Zane," she answered in this twisted, loving tone. I turned and went in the house. What had that monk said to me when I'd discussed my relationship with Tim and Jill? One does not build a house of stone out of grass Which he suggested meant petty payback satisfies little and is soon gone, but real revenge comes from working permanent change on your opponent. Over the next four days I ordered a secure chest online, withdrew my bank limit each day, and started taking a pitcher of grape juice to my room at bedtime (it will make sense in a moment). I decided to start my plan Sunday night. Stage One: after Jill has gone to bed, fill her car up with gas and report all her credit cards and bank card stolen. We have plenty of food in the kitchen and Jill takes her lunch to work so with the car full of gas she won't immediately notice her cards are useless tomorrow. Also withdraw yet another five hundred dollars with my bank card, which is the daily limit. Stage Two: Once Jill has gone to work, I put three of her Sunday's Best into the steel chest, to which I have the only combination. Burn every piece of ultra-conservative matronly-wear, from underwear to bathrobes to jackets. Now that mid-morning has come, I head over to the Sorority House and enlist the aid of my two new friends, Leigh and Corrie. We go clothes shopping with the money I've saved up. Each 'sister' gets one thing (for services rendered) and the rest of the money we dump on getting Jill everything a sexually confident and active twenty-something would wear (Jill's only thirty) as well as getting me some normal clothes. I'm not going to attempt to make Jill dress like a hooker; that would never work. Jill's been warped by her narrow-minded environment for all of her three decades so making her more tolerant is going to take time. Stage Three: As we are heading to the bedrooms that evening I 'accidently' bump into Jill and soak her with a pitcher of grape juice she now knows I'm taking to my room on a regular basis. Grape juice doesn't come out and a pitcher will soak her down to her underwear and bra. "Sorry, Aunt Jill," I blathered. "Oh, Zane, this dress is totally ruined. I should make you pay to replace it," she sounded cross. "Consider it done," I offered. Technically, I'd already bought her a new one. Jill went into the bathroom muttering Leviticus before tossing me a roll of paper towels to clean up the spilled juice. "Zane?" Jill called from the bathroom with a hint of concern. "Yes?" I responded from the hallway. "Where is my bathrobe?" she inquired. "In the laundry," I lied. I hear her putter around for a few seconds, then, "Go to your room and shut the door," she ordered me. I got up and made a point of noisily shutting my door. Half a minute later the bathroom door squeaked open and I heard Jill pad quietly to her room and shut the door. I opened my door and sprinted to the bathroom. I retrieved her clothes from the hamper and tossed them in the sink, got the carefully secreted lighter fluid from underneath, doused them, and tossed in a lit match. At the same time as I'm doing this, I heard Jill slamming dresser drawers open and shut. "ZANE!" Boy, what have you done?" Jill shouted from her room. I raced out of the bathroom (on purpose) at the same time Jill burst out of her room so we were basically five feet apart when Jill remembered that she was naked; I was barefoot in pajama bottoms. Jill's look was priceless as she realized that the number of men who'd seen her totally naked since she hit puberty had just doubled. She spun around and bolted into her room, door slamming shut once more. It took her a few moments to form a plan. "Zane, go to your room and shut the door," she growled with a tad more control. "Sure thing." I grinned as I walked to my room, shut the door, and leaned against it waiting for what I knew would unfold next. Sure enough, Jill raced to the bathroom. "Zane, where is my dress?" "In the sink," I told her. Three, two, one. "ZANE! What have you done!" she screamed once more. "My bra, my underwear, my hose, she sobbed. "Jane, you have a robe in your closet. If you want, put it on and come to my room so we can talk this over," I suggested. I didn't hear anything for fifteen minutes as I waited on my bed. Finally, the door swung open slowly and Jill took a half step into my room. Her eyes were downcast in shame but her voice was full of hurt and anger. In her mind there was no possible reason for me to have done this. She was pulling off the Hurt Little Girl bit really well with her mid-thigh crimson satin robe and her wavy, deep-red hair flowing loosely over her shoulders and down her back. "I can't believe you picked this out for me to wear, Zane. Now where are my clothes?" she ground out. "Jill, you look good in that, really good, but I didn't pick it out for you. I had our next-door neighbors do that because you are all beautiful young women," I explained. "If you tell me what color you are wearing, I'll tell you where your clothes are." Jill stood stock still as she worked out that I was talking about her panties. "Blue, the deep blue ones, with the black, lace," she whispered. "Not the white?" I had to ask since I would have guessed this was the first pair of non-white panties she'd ever worn. Her constricted mind had expanded a tiny bit. "The white ones were nearly see-through," she answered after a second. I had to agree with that. "I put your clothes exactly where you put all the stuff I brought back from Thailand," I answered. It took a moment for that to sink in. Her burning green eyes popped up in shock. "What am I going to wear to work tomorrow?" she wailed. "I'll tell you if you agree to one request I have for you," I replied with compassion. "Fine," she hiccupped. She was so body conscious that she wasn't really thinking about the implications of what she was saying but I believed she would still honor her word. "I want you to wear your hair down all day tomorrow, or in a ponytail, but that's it," I ordered. Jill looked at me truly confused; she always wore it in a bun. "But why?" she questioned. "I don't understand." "Your hair is beautiful when it is down, Aunt Jill. I figure it wouldn't kill you to try a new look," I answered. Again, she didn't understand but I was okay with that, and getting her clothes out of the closet was part of the deal. I pulled out bag after bag and set them on the bed. Jill stepped up during the process and pulled various articles of clothing out, utterly flummoxed with what she was discovering. This wasn't slut-wear but it would definitely show more of her curves and skin than she would have ever normally considered. When I finished bringing bags out she looked past me, expecting more. "I can't wear any of this," she declared. "Please tell me you didn't really destroy my clothes." "Jill, I did burn up most of your clothes and you can wear what I bought you. You are thirty, not sixty-five. When I jumped into that river, God decided that I rescued you and not Tim, and I can't believe I saved you so you could go right back to the same life you had before," I interpreted what might have been true, God doesn't talk to me. "What did I do to deserve this, Zane?" she pleaded. "You burned up all my stuff from Thailand, Jill. And while you might think of this as revenge, it's not. You may not see it this way now but one day, I hope you will understand that I love you," I told her. "Zane, I don't understand. What you did was evil, despicable, and wicked and I won't tolerate it. We should pray to God, me for guidance and you for forgiveness," she pouted. She made to kneel down at my bedside so I followed out of long practice. We clasped our hands in prayer and while Jill closed her eyes, mine remained open. Now, my bed is not even at knee level so when Jill knelt down to pray, leaning forward until her elbows were on the mattress, she inadvertently thrust her ass backwards, yes, Jill was doggy style on my bed. I had abstractly known Jill was attractive but the thought of having sex with her had never come up. What was now 'coming up' was suddenly a problem, as were my attempts to keep up with exactly what Jill was asking God for, but the gist of it seemed to involve the Almighty taking steel wool to my corrupt soul, the harder and more painful the scrubbing, the better. "Amen," we said in unison as the thirty-seven minute ordeal came to an end and Jill stood up. "Jesus has told me that I only have to put up with your dementia until morning. I'd rather get new clothes instead of showing up to work, as some strumpet," she proclaimed. "Um, where did you come up with the word 'strumpet' and who ever said it was a sin to be good looking?" I asked. "Nothing I got for you suggests sexuality, no push-up bras, crop tops, or slit skirts. They're clothes, nothing more." "It doesn't matter what you think," Jill countered. "Whatever madness you thought you were accomplishing won't work. I really should call the pastor." "And tell him what, that I burned your clothes and bought you, normal clothes? Why don't we call everyone on the church roster?" I warned her. Jill balked at the prospect of having our family feud exposed. Jill sniffed, spun, and started to leave the room when she recalled the clothes I'd bought for her. She huffed and came back for them, looking at me very indignantly. When I went to help, she warned me off with a hateful glare. An hour later, as I began to despair over my actions, I heard Jill's bedroom door open and a crinkly crunch in the hall. Upon examination, I found one of the bags I'd purchased clothes in outside her door. Inside, folded up, were the other bags. Jill had put my clothes away in her drawers and closet. I counted that to be a small victory. At breakfast the next morning I endeavored to be very correct and polite as I complimented Jill on how nice she looked. She returned my platitudes with an angry glare and she left for work without saying a word. In her favor, when she learned her credit cards were toast she didn't break down and scream at me over the phone or miss work. That evening she did still slam the door to the garage loud enough to rattle windows on the other side of the house when she got home from work. "ZANE!" she screamed, "What did you do to my credit cards?" "Your replacements should be here by Saturday or Monday at the latest," I replied soothingly as she stormed up to me. "So," I went on, "did anyone compliment you on your looks today?" "What, I, that's not important," she muttered, then she changed tact. She came over to the sofa where I was reclining, knelt down, and took my hand. "Zane, you are falling into lust, degeneration, and degradation, sins of the flesh. You have to stop this." 'Stop what?' I wasn't precisely sure. "What you want me to do? Should we pray further on the matter? Last night I felt, something, but I still feel empty," I suggested. Jill's face lit up so I slipped past her and knelt beside her. Jill was unwittingly sexy as she sashayed forward on her knees to rest against the sofa. I reached out to her and she took my hand, then the praying began. What followed was a repetitive litany of me falling into lust and dark desires (clothes buying?). Dear departed Uncle Tim didn't even get an honorable mention which would have been surprising if he hadn't been such a total bastard to me. Jill's neglect I didn't quite understand. She'd always been loyal, dutiful, and supportive. It then occurred to me that I'd never seen him exert an ounce of human compassion toward Jill. I got up and ran to my bedroom, ending up on the bed. Jill padded along behind me after a minute. "Zane?" she wondered. "When is the last time you had sex with Uncle Tim?" I whispered so quietly that Jill struggled to understand me. "But, no, don't do this, Zane, don't fall into apostasy," Jill simpered. "I have a gift for you. It is something you want but I need you to answer the question," I offered. "What is the gift?" she asked, guardedly intrigued. "I can promise you no regrets," I countered. Jill weighed her options, turned, and left. "Dinner," Jill called to me an hour later. I dutifully went downstairs to the dining room to enjoy a mediocre meal in silence. We barely exchanged a single glance. As I got up to clean the table, cleaning was my chore, Jill spoke. "Seven years." I was pretty proud that I didn't fall over in shock. First off, in my teenage, hormone-addled mind, how could anyone go without sex for seven years? Next, how could someone with Jill as a wife not want to have sex at least once every seven hours? Finally, what was Tim doing in the lady-boy section of Bangkok when he found me that one time? I really feel like an idiot on occasion. "I saved your three favorite Sunday dresses," I rewarded her. Jill's eyes showed a glimmer of hope. "Which ones? I mean, how did you know which ones were my favorites?" she pondered. "You told me, Aunt Jill. I do listen to you, ya know," I responded. She gave me the oddest look, as if I had just explained to her how Ruth slew Goliath, not David. "Thank you," she whispered. The first battle of the Witch, the Brat, and the Wardrobe was over. The war would go on. The next time we went grocery shopping (Jill decided that the less time I was left alone, the slower I would plummet to my eventual fiery demise) I caught her noticing guys giving her the once over and she liked it, of that I'm sure. How do I know this? She let me talk to the cute stock girl for fifteen seconds before reeling me in, which was long enough for her to write her number on the palm of my hand. I called her and asked if she wanted to go to a sorority party when the semester began. She informed me she was a rising senior in high school so I gave her my number and told her to call me on her eighteenth birthday if she was still interested. You can't win them all, immediately. FFU             Birds are made beautiful by their plumage but divine by their flight        Now to the college I was attending; Freedom Fellowship University (yes, that is F-FU if you stutter) is the Christian college in my new hometown. Jill read about them in online chat rooms and by communicating with some of her Christian social network gal pals. She heard they had a dress code and without checking on the specifics, she bought me a dozen sets of black slacks and white shirts guaranteed to mark me as a social leper. She signed me up for my classes. I opted for Pre-Med; she insisted I should go Pre-Law until I revealed my secret sinful desire to work for the ACLU, at which point she relented. She wanted me to play some sports, I suspect because she wanted me to have a safe hormonal outlet that didn't involve me touching women. I could have told her that dressed as I was, getting women (short of kidnapping) would be nearly impossible. The problem was, they didn't offer any of the traditional sports except for soccer and track and field. I felt that was odd but I decided to sign up for soccer tryouts anyway. I also signed up for Karate, though I had no idea what a Christian school would be teaching that for, plus Archery (I've never used a bow before), Marksmanship (I've never fired a gun either), and Orienteering (because everyone gets lost in suburban Virginia and has to subsist on squirrel and road kill, right?). I downright refused to have anything to do with the Competitive Bible Study Team. By the end of the admissions process I was beginning to think this was a school for some kind of uber-religious survivalists. Still, they accepted me on short notice and except for a tiny quirk in the online admissions form, I was sadly ready to go to college. It would be that tiny quirk that would change my life forever. There Must Be a Church! Before I could attend college there was one quibble to deal with and that was which church Jill and I would attend. I claimed to be partial to the Unitarians, mainly to watch Jill's face go from normal to pale to an angry beet red. Sometimes razzing her is too easy. Jill chose the First Anointed Free-willed Fellowship of Christ after carefully weighing, considering, and then utterly disregarding my input. I guess I had to be happy they weren't snake handlers. On that first Sunday it was raining. I ended up having to run back into the house as Jill backed the car out of the garage and I took a header into a mud puddle in the lawn. Seeing how soaked I was, Jill allowed me to miss out on Sunday school. When I tried to get to the normal service my car wouldn't start (she'd insisted on buying me a used car, which I was now allowed to return for a new one). The second Sunday was a comedy of errors. The garage door opened halfway, then got stuck, and Jill gave the wrong address to the church family she desperately called to come pick us up. On the third Sunday I was sick, so sick that I missed the Sci-Fi movie classic of the week-(end) Saturday night, Vampire Zombie Overlords II. Jill normally lets me watch it because I told her it shows science in a bad light. I would like to point out that Jill isn't stupid but she does tend to believe that which is most convenient to her world view, in this case, Science = Bad. The fourth and final college-free Sunday, Buddy Jesus informed me that I had to go because no Act of God showed up to save me. It turned out that the First Anointed Free-willed Fellowship of Christ was huge, one of those mega-churches and by the number of luxury cars in the parking lot, not one populated by the unwashed masses. Everyone was very, very friendly to the point where I refused to drink or eat anything they tried to force on me, fearing that I would become a drugged-out zombie filled with unconditional love and happiness toward the world. The one other weird thing was that there didn't seem to be any kids my age in the congregation. I had no Sunday school that day. I later learned this was the weekend of their Pre-College/High School Youth Retreat. Apparently everyone in this place acted as a herd. Before we left I met with Pastor William Penny, chief shepherd of this flock, and he wanted to be my pal. Jill was enraptured with the guy but somehow he came across as creepy to me. Will, Jill, and a few well-meaning parishioners ended up steering me to the Pastor's office (which was as big as Jill's huge kitchen). There my new buddy wanted me to sign some paperwork. Jill urged me to hurry up and get it over with and promised to take me to a nice steak house we'd seen but never been in, as if I was a small child easily pleased. Maybe I should have gone for pre-law because I ignored Jill and did read what they wanted me to sign. They wanted me to tithe, and not on my income, of which I had none, but on my net worth. Everyone around me looked hopeful and I couldn't help but smile as I picked up the pen and started laughing. When they began looking confused I laughed harder, and that made them displeased. I didn't pick up the pen to write; I picked it up so I could stab the first one to rush me. "Listen up, Pastor Bill, can I call you Pastor Bill?" I didn't wait on his reply. "I don't know you or anyone but Aunt Jill in this room," I chuckled, "and I imagine you are all terribly nice folks, but it will be a cold day in Hell before I give millions of dollars to people I know nothing about." "We are doing God's work," Pastor Bill assured me, "and please call me Pastor William." "Please," Jill pleaded, "this is what your Uncle Tim would want." For Jill's sake I didn't laugh out loud once again. Tim gave me billions of mosquito bites, outdoor plumbing, and ass-whooping s on a regular basis so all I felt I owed good ol' Tim was putting a heavy stone on his grave so that he didn't rise up from the dead when the End Times came. In retrospect, Tim did me one favor; he taught me the ability to be verbally evasive when needed. "Aunt Jill, as Uncle Tim told me, being a Christian is a matter of Faith working through the mind and hands. It is my Christian duty to make sure that his legacy (really my Mom and Dad's) is placed where God wants it. Uncle Tim would make me pray deeply to the Almighty before taking such a momentous step, so pray I shall." Pastor Bill looked disappointed in me, which was a poor mask for his unsatisfied greed. Jill and the rest of the flock seem to have bought my act and that was the victory I needed to win right then. On the way back home Jill was pleased as punch. I'd expressed to her new friends what a wise saint good ol' Uncle Tim had been. This was the day I had to move into my dorm room on FFU's campus so I didn't have much time to dwell on everything that had happened. Barbie Lynn Masters, Dorm Mother To say that I was pretty depressed when I began moving into college would have been an understatement. I met some nice girls who were also moving into my dorm but I wasn't much in the mood for talking. I found my room but they had my name wrong. Not only was I not Zane they even got Glenn wrong; they misspelled it as Glenda. I hadn't been unpacking fifteen minutes before this hottie breezed in asking if I was Glenda's brother. "Sure," I joked, "I'm Zane." "Can I see some ID? I'm the Dorm Mother," she asked pleasantly. I showed her my driver's license which read 'G. Zane Braxton'. "And you are?" I inquired. "Barbie Lynn Masters. Do you live close by?" she prodded. I looked around my room (which I shared with an as-of-yet unseen roomie), shrugged, and replied, "Yes. I live about a mile and a half away, just inside city limits," I played along. Couldn't she see that it was my name on the luggage in my room and I'd already unpacked? "Can we count on seeing a lot more of you?" she purred, stepping up into my personal space. With her four-inch pumps, she was an inch taller than me, so I had to tilt my head up slightly to meet her gaze. "Unless you have a girlfriend, of course," she demurred. "I don't have a girlfriend but I'm looking for one," I grinned back. I wasn't really lying; I was looking for lots of girlfriends. "So, do you have a boyfriend?" "Oh, no," she assured me. "I took a Purity Pledge and I have a fianc so I can't be in a causal relationship with a boy, though being a 'friend' of a student I'm responsible for is fine." She licked her lips. My understanding of her convoluted reasoning was short-circuited by her D plus cleavage, perfect teeth, long light-golden hair, soft bedroom blue eyes, and blemish free, tanned skin. I've never considered myself terribly bashful. I hadn't been with a welcoming and available female in two months; she was right there in my face, so I grabbed Barbie's ass subtly, pulled her close, and began kissing her. At first Barbie seemed to be all talk and no action, but that lasted all of five seconds before she was all over me with our tongues intertwining and our hands going over each other's backs and asses. In a flash I had my hands up her pleated skirt, inside her plain white panties, and was massaging each muscular ass cheek separately and vigorously while my lips left hers and migrated to her neck and ear with kisses and bites, all of which seemed to really excite Barbie Lynn. She was moaning and grinding against me like a teenager coming down from a forty-eight hour unresolved porno binge. Her left hand slid around to the front of my jeans and touched my crotch where I was rapidly coming to the fullness of life. "Oh, God!" she whispered as she began stroking me up and down. "Tell me that's not a rolled up sock." "Huh? What? No, that is all me. Why do you ask?" I mumbled between licks and kisses. "Oh, some boys can be very dishonest," she sighed from past experience. "Does it hurt?" "No, it feels fine," I assured her. "Are you sure it doesn't hurt just a little bit?" she persisted as she groped my bulge. Something clued me in. "Actually, it does hurt a little bit," I guessed. Barbie Lynn broke our embrace, padded silently over to the door, took a quick look out, then shut it. She was back in my arms in record time. "In that case, let me see it," she grinned. "How does a blowjob jive with your Purity Pledge?" I stupidly wondered out loud. "Oh," she beamed an angelic radiance up at me as she slid down my body and unzipped my pants, our eyes locked together, "a blow job is sinful and done out of lust but relieving your pain is blessed and done out of love." "I feel myself getting closer to spiritual fulfillment every second I'm with you," I breathed huskily as she pulled down my pants and boxers, unleashing my manhood. Barbie tentatively, with a bit of fear showing, licked the tip of my cock. I let her get used to me before resting a hand on her head. She responded by slowly engulfing my cockhead, which felt freaking awesome after my long dry spell (please remember I had virtually non-stop sex for two and a half years). She bobbed slightly while pumping my shaft rapidly with one hand and tickling my balls with the other. I tried to push a little bit but Barbie gagged. I guessed she wasn't too skilled at this but hey, everyone starts somewhere. After five minutes she was taking more than half of my length in and doing so hungrily. "I hope you are not close to coming," she mumbled between mouthfuls. "Actually, I'm feeling greedy," I responded. She looked up at me, head still bobbing. "I can sense your pain and feel I should do something about it," I explained. Now she looked confused so I backed up, pulled Barbie up by her waist and kissed her once more. I gracefully walked my hand down her waist and hip to her crotch. With a sharp intake of breath by Barbie, she melted into me and bit my shoulder. Next I spun us around and pushed her back on the bed at the corner, splaying her out for me as her bosom bounced sensually and enticingly. "What's on your mind?" Barbie asked with wide eyes. "I want a taste," I grinned evilly, which only turned her on more. I fell between her outstretched knees. I made eye contact with her as she propped up on her elbows and my hands went to her panty waistband. I grinned, she blushed, and the panties came flying off. Barbie squeaked then slammed a hand over her mouth to muffle the noise. "Use my pillows to prop up your back," I directed Barbie Lynn since she clearly wanted to watch. I maneuvered Barbie into a suitable position so that I was kneeling on the floor with Barbie's silky smooth legs spread to either side. Barbie Lynn was propped up so that she could watch me work. I got the feeling she was used to some level of stimulation, just not from a guy. I could deal with that. "Maybe we shouldn't do this now, or go back to my place where it is safer?" she asked. "I'm too hungry for you right now; your scent is intoxicating," I finished up saying, and then I went in. I didn't rush things because every first time should be special. My right hand traced the line along the sides and rear of Barbie Lynn's thighs. My left hand traced the line over her pubic area to her stomach that finally ended with her left breast. "Hurry," she panted. I knew she had somewhere to be but I was aware she could use some stress relief too. Barbie reached down with a hand to control my left hand and head but I was obeying my instincts. By the time she made up her mind to stop me, I overwhelmed Barbie with a pleasurable, mind warping first orgasm. The noise brought a few students sneaking in to take a peak. Once I had a semblance of control over her, I began a series of actions to excite her whole body. On the second orgasm she wrapped her legs around my head and nearly crushed it. While I lapped up her juices, I decided to follow that up by kissing Barbie and giving her some of her own fluids to taste, a trick new to her. I kept my cock sheathed, though all three of Barbie's holes looked delightful. I figured she wasn't ready yet but I did manage to take off her shirt in the process and fondling and suckling at her magnificent breasts. After the third and fourth orgasms, Barbie passed out, and when she woke up, she whispered to me that she wanted my cock in her mouth and cunt. Purity Pledge? What Purity Pledge? Barbie Lynn confided in me that she'd sucked cock before and thought she was quite good at it, and that a few men had temped her cunt and ass with real penetration but all she had done so far was pleasure herself with toys and with the aid of other (female) students here at school. She was still technically a virgin (no boy parts had penetrated her cunt) but she'd done 'everything else.' Was she or was she not an anal virgin? My money was on virginity. Barbie was pleased that I was going to her church (it was highly popular at the college, she told me), almost as pleased as I was to find her so receptive and hungry for more sex. I told her she needed sexier underwear and that I would gladly go shopping with her for some in case she wanted to model any (yes, I know they don't let you model underwear). While we talked I helped her get dressed, though we couldn't find her panties. We slipped out after that, Barbie to tend to her girls and me to go to my Aunt's. I told her I'd see her tomorrow. Barbie laughed as if she didn't believe me. As I left, I began to appreciate the guy: girl ratio of this place because it was looking very good in my favor. My evening with Jill passed uneventfully; we stayed up late as Jill suddenly realized she was going to be alone for the first time in years so I didn't end up sneaking quietly into my dorm room until well past midnight. The Journey Begins. Day One, It's a What? My first day of college began with a six a.m. wake-up alarm in our room. Both my roommate and I sat up at the same time. We looked at each other and the sheets failed to conceal we apparently both slept shirtless. "Hi. You are a girl," I got off first. "And you are a guy," she replied indignantly. "What are you doing in my room? I mean, why did they give me a female roommate?" I countered. "Ah, are you joking?" she asked incredulously. Clearly I wasn't, and that realization made her grin mischievously. "Where is Glenda?" she inquired next. "Ugh," I sighed. "When I was registered their system misspelled my name. My first name is Glenn, thus the Glenda, but I go by Zane, my middle name. What about you?" "Whoops. I'm Rio Talon and this is going to be wicked," she giggled. "I have to admit I never thought I'd meet someone like you at FFU." "You don't see quite the hardcore fundamentalist/survivalist type either," I responded. "Ha!" she grunted. "You got me. It was either this or three years at a minimum security prison in Arizona," she confessed. She didn't volunteer what she would have done time for and it was really none of my business. "I need to shower," I changed the subject. "I'll go with you," Rio volunteered as she slipped out of bed, and yes, she was naked, and cleverly and artfully shaved with several delicate chevrons pointing down. She also had a black tattoo of the name Lilith going from the right hip along the bikini line, definitely not Church issue. I went to the closet, got a robe, towel, and bathroom kit. Rio brazenly watched me move around. "Body-conscious much?" she chuckled. "Rio, I spent the last two years bathing down at the river with two hundred of my closest neighbors. Trying to cover up gets old really fast," I grinned back at her. "Does my body disgust you?" "'Disgust' isn't the word I was going to use," Rio said as she licked her lips and also got ready for the bathroom. "Now, let's get you shaved before, the bathroom gets flooded with people. By the way," she tossed me Barbie's missing undies, "are these yours?" "Booty from my panty raid; please don't turn me in," I chuckled, as I caught them, then stashed them in my backpack, hopefully to return to Barbie Lynn later. Rio laughed again. As I suspected, not only did I get assigned a female roommate but I was on a female floor, which earned me more than a few shocked looks. Since Rio stuck close to me, she earned her own share of looks, but these were more scornful; Rio ate it up. I still couldn't decide whether I'd miss Rio or not when I got my new room assignment. The two girls in the showers ignored Rio and I when we came in so I was able to shave in peace and get under a steamy shower without the expected shrieks. Only when they dressed in their robes and put on their glasses did things change. Their looks were best expressed as 'a boy saw me naked!' followed by 'A boy saw me naked, ' and ended up with, 'A boy saw me naked and he liked what he saw.' I get hard when the wind blows, anywhere around the globe. They fled in a fit of giggles and I safely exited the bathroom before another girl entered. It was hardly unforeseen that my attire made Rio laugh but when she suggested black horn-rimmed glasses would really complete the nerd-look, I had to laugh too. I noted her regulation skirt appeared to be a bit higher above the knee than was prudent with a pronounced lack of underwear. Rio confessed that her parents tossed all her 'stripper' wear when they shipped her off and she wasn't going to wear the 'granny' panties they had put in place of her G-strings. The trek cross-campus to the Dining Hall would have been more enlightening if Rio had not lured me into an engrossing conversation. Remember now, I had been isolated from mainstream Western pop culture for over two years and had a lot of catching up to do. We grabbed some trays of breakfast; then, at Rio's insistence, we headed outside to eat pretty much by ourselves, or so we hoped. "Professor, inquired this cute brunette with pig tails, dimples, and into pushing her tits in my face; I barely noticed she was backed up by three other girls. "Huh?" I questioned. "Braxton," Rio spoke over me. "Could you tell me, where the, um, Clegger Science Building is, Professor Braxton?" She lied pathetically. My first thoughts were, 'why is she wearing such a thin white blouse two-sizes too small?' and wondering 'when is this thread holding that central button in place going to give up on its hopeless struggle and let her boobs pop out?' Then I became curious why she called me 'professor'. "It is right over there," I said, as I stood up, put my hand on the small of her back, and pointed the way with my other hand. The location of the building was blindingly obvious since this is not a huge campus. If things weren't awkward enough, Ms. Brunette twisted, rubbed her hardening nipples against my chest, and asked, "There?" "No," I corrected by whispering into her ear, causing her to wiggle against me. I took her forearm, lingering my touch on the pulse of her wrist before directing it to the proper angle. "I would walk you there," I added, "but we have to go to the auditorium soon." "Thank you, Professor Braxton." She wiggled a third time. "It is really a pity I don't have any of your classes. What do you teach?" "He's a Biblical Archeologist," Rio interrupted, "specializing in Early Christian Erotic Art and Rituals." I felt Ms. Brunette have a micro-orgasm over that piece of fantastical news. "Are you still taking on students?" Brunette panted to me. Rio jumped up. "Whoops! Look at the time!" exclaimed Rio, "Professor, you have to go, Right Now!" With that, she dragged me away from Ms. Brunette and her girl posse and across campus. "What the hell was that about and why did she call me Professor?" I hissed to Rio as we came to the auditorium for our first assembly. "Oh, it must be some Southern thing, sort of like the English calling men 'Governor'," she lied convincingly. How do I now know she lied? It will become obvious.   I took a seat with Rio amongst the sea of students and it was just my luck that we were surrounded by girls once more. I really wasn't in the mood to have them gawk at me so I slumped down and kept a low profile. The auditorium sounded full-up and there was a magnitude of teachers and such on the stage. When a stately, attractive, yet demanding and stern tall woman with long grey hair worked up in a bun stepped up to the podium, the hall grew silent. First she led us in prayer, which I found odd because normally at this level of fundamentalism, women couldn't lead men in prayer, but I could have cared less. She welcomed the rising seniors first, then worked down the list until she recognized the new class of freshmen, reminding them of their 'Handmaiden Duties,' whatever that was. I looked to Rio who was stifling to suppress some dark glee, undoubtedly at my expense. The Chancellor of FFU worked us through some of what I assumed was normal school crap plus a reminder to review with diligence their code of moral and ethical behaviors and the names of their spiritual guidance counselors in case they felt wickedness overcoming them. Considering the thin white blouses and the short, pleated plaid skirts, yours truly and the other men on campus were going to be scoring like mad, morals and ethics be damned. A closing prayer ended the meeting and we dispersed like good little sheep heading for our first class of the semester. Rio and I both had English Literature but in different rooms so she was kind/sadistic enough to drop me by my room before heading her own way. I walked in and took a middle seat. Once again all the girls looked at me funny when they came in and I couldn't miss the fact that in a classroom size of twenty, we had nineteen girls and only one guy, me. I was mulling this over (I'm actually a smart guy but I admit, I hadn't been showing it too much recently) when our teacher came in. Her name was Ms. Goodswell (no lie) and she was a gorgeous brunette with breasts of greater proportions than Barbie Lynn's, and the rest just got lusher. Ms.  Goodswell leaned against the front of her large wooden writing desk and used her tablet to scroll down the roll call. I was number three. "Braxton," her sugary sweet voice drawled out. "Glenda Braxton." I shifted in my seat. "Here," I said in a clear masculine voice, "but I go by Zane." Ms.  Goodswell looked up over her reading glasses, expecting something other than me. As she looked at me her eyes grew larger, and she looked, and she looked. "What are you wearing?" she asked crisply. "What my Aunt told me was proper school attire, Ms. Goodswell," I replied tentatively. "Proper attire is clearly outlined, white blouse and a pleated blue and gold tartan skirt with white knee sox and black shoes. Men wear pants; women wear skirts," she clarified. I imagine my jaw dropped open at that one. Finally, I stood up so she could get a good look at me. "I'm dressed correctly, then I'm a guy," I insisted. Ms. Goodswell had looked annoyed but now she looked pissed. She strode boldly toward me, heels clicking against the marble floor. "So you insist that you are a man, do you?" she snapped. Before I could do anything but nod she slapped a cupped hand against my crotch. I coughed in pain. I became aroused despite the mild discomfort because I was now gazing down into Ms. Goodswell's ample bosom. Her eyes went from angry to utter shock. "You are a man," she whispered in horror. "What are you doing in my class?" I reached into my book bag and got my schedule, letting her gaze on it. I noticed her hand stayed on my crotch. "Nine a.m., English Lit. 101 in room 204, Denning Hall V. Goodswell," I read out loud. Ms. Goodswell read it over while she massaged my growing shaft; subconsciously or not, I wasn't sure. "Very well," she said decisively. She turned back and returned to the roll. As I sat down I had that creepy feeling that everyone else was staring at me, or more precisely, my Goodswell-inspired hard on. After that little bit of drama the actual class was okay. Ms. Goodswell was pretty bright and made our upcoming journey into the works of a bunch of old dead British guys sound fun. When the bell rang we got up and started to file out but Ms. Goodswell motioned me to wait for the others to leave us alone. It didn't work out that way; the other girls hovered right outside the door. "Okay, Mr. Braxton, what are you trying to prove?" she accused me with some real heat. "Please, Ms. Goodswell, believe me; I haven't a clue what is going on here. I woke up with a girl in my room this morning, I began. "You had a girl in your room this morning? That didn't take you long," she said bitterly. "No, wait; it was my assigned roommate, Rio Talon, and she was on her side of the room. It is okay because they accidently stuck me on a girl's floor in the dorm because there were girls in the showers too," I continued. "Didn't you thing that was a bit odd?" she asked suspiciously. "Not really, ma'am. I've spent the last two years with missionaries in rural Thailand; I'm used to bathing with naked women all the time. Initially, I figured this was some sort of bureaucratic snafu but after doing my own quick census of your class, I think I've missed something crucial," I explained. "Mr. Braxton, Zane, this is an all-girls school; men are not allowed. We can't even employ a man under the age of forty-five," she informed me while studying my expression. While my cock would have done summersaults of joy, my brain was looking at my access to my trust fund going down the toilet. "I apologize. I'm pretty sure my Aunt Jill didn't know and I assure you, I was ignorant of this fact. What do we do now?" I sighed. "I believe you, Mr., .Zane. No one would use this as an excuse after going through all the trouble to sneak in here. For now, you continue to your classes and I'll inform your other instructors of this, extraordinary event. Expect to spend lunch with the Chancellor so that we can extricate you from this situation. Can I rely on you to be good in the interim?" "I'll do my best," I promised. She dismissed me and began using her phone. When I slipped out of the room, my classmates made room enough for me to make my way down the hall. "Zane!" a young female voice called out. I turned around to see Ms. Brunette. "Is it true you are a freshman here?" I was sure she would be pissed for the whole 'Professor' gag Rio had played and I'd unwittingly gone along with. "Yes," I confessed. She'd assumed I was a teacher because I was male and I hadn't corrected her. "Kiss me!" she beamed hungrily. That was not what I expected but I reacted quickly and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. Ms. Brunette looked upset. "You can do better than that," she commanded. Again, not what I expected; I put my book bag down, took hers off her shoulder and placed it next to mine. I started off with a repeat of the last kiss but instead of that being the ending point, I used it as a foundation to build upon. I slowly drew her in; she pulled her arms up between us and cupped my face as I dipped her with enough tongue action to make our steamy embrace a thermographic exploration of lust. We kissed for over a minute before I brought her up and let her go. "Better?" I murmured to her. Ms. Brunette nodded dreamily. As I retrieved my book bag from the floor I realized I was adrift in a sea of lonely young women. I could now empathize with that lost baby seal who found itself surrounded by a pod of killer whales. "Kiss me!" insisted a blonde. "No, me; I was here first." "I'm a senior; I go first," demanded a breathtaking black woman. I didn't know what was going on and I had no idea how to deal with this bizarre situation but all that was taken out of my hands by the next noise I heard. "Get off me, bitch," I heard Rio shout out, followed by a slap and her scream. Rio was hardly my friend, in fact, she had used me for her own personal amusement for the entire time I'd known her, but she was my roommate, an outsider, and I was sure no one else would come to her aid. I shouldered my way in the directions of her screams and sobs, parting the last few girls separating us. Rio was on her stomach on the floor with three girls gathered over her. Closest to me was one with thick, wavy black hair and dark skin who had her foot pushing down on Rio's ass. The second one, who appeared to be the leader, was a black girl with shiny black hair in an intricate weave and was bouncing on Rio's back, yanking her hair back painfully, and was taunting Rio, saying she was supposed to be a good little beast of burden as well as mocking her as a 'felon'. The last tormentor was the only one facing me, though she was preoccupied with holding Rio's arms forward so she couldn't reach back to scratch the ringleader. It wasn't hard for me to figure out what to do. When Weave started bouncing up, I swept the legs out from under the other wavy-haired girl, sending her toppling backwards. I then put a boot to the black girl's ass, propelling her into the spectators on the far side of us. I didn't even bother with girl number three. I grabbed Rio by the arm and yanked her up and swung her behind me. It turned out to be a good choice because when the black girl back-flipped up in one fluid move, she landed in a martial arts fighting stance. I had a fight on my hands, or would have if the bell hadn't rung. As it was, the black girl looked both outraged and shocked when she took in my gender and my counter-stance. A flood of girls suddenly separated us. Rio took the opportunity to grab her book bag, then my hand, and together we bolted to our next class which was, oddly enough, Biblical Archeology but without the procreation parts. Our professor, Mrs. Carradine, treated me a bit coldly but the attention directed my way by the student body was anything but. I had barely pulled out my book when the girl behind me tapped my shoulder and slipped me a note. You will take my book bag to lunch and eat lunch with me. Dove Foster I furrowed my brow and showed the note to Rio who was sitting next to me. She smiled and whispered, "Handmaiden's Duty," in a condescending tone. "Didn't you read your handbook?" Any further conversation was cut short by Mrs. Carradine's blistering glare. For some reason, Buddy Jesus kept me safe from anymore female attention until the class ended and I began to make my way out. I took some comfort that Rio stayed close to my side. My Social Secretary "Zane. Zane Braxton, do you mind if I call you Zane?" babbled a shorter, slender girl with shoulder length black hair and glasses as she grabbed my elbow in a death grip from behind. "You can't ask him to do anything until he steps out of class," Rio cautioned the newcomer. Now I had to decide whether or not I'd be a slave to Dove for an hour because technically she appeared to be in violation of the rules, which I knew no

The new Rumps & Bumps jersey just dropped! Check out afterpartyinc.com. Its the return of our boy Champagne Eli! As he comes on after a two year hiatus. We talk about the last time he came on the podcast and he ended up where no one wants to be, find out how the ladies have been treating him plus Mark chimes in and Mark gives us the scoop on why he's still single. Follow us on social media @AaronScenesAfterParty

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The temperature across the country is rising as fast as patience is depleting. The lethal tag team of immigration and chemical warfare via fentanyl is ripping the guts out of every town and city in the nation.  Those responsible at the front of the room can only lean into their narcissistic superiority complex and unearned ego, ignoring the people's desperation. The guys in black at the back of the room, have a different idea altogether.

Réécoutez le FG mix avec Tr3nacria du mercredi 1er octobre 2025

Sponsored By Raycon Go to https://buyraycon.com/NOJUMPERPODOPEN to get 20% off! Ian Bick talks about doing time, what he's learned, making content, Mr Beast, Chief Keef, Wes Watson, 1090 Jake, and more! ----- Check out e420 app for deals Apple: https://spn.so/g6gbid5j Google: https://spn.so/104g2yp6 use code NOJUMPER for $$ off Shout out to all our members who make this content possible, sign up for only $5 a month    / @nojumper   Promote Your Music with No Jumper - https://nojumper.com/pages/promo CHECK OUT OUR ONLINE STORE!!! https://nojumper.com NO JUMPER PATREON   / nojumper   CHECK OUT OUR NEW SPOTIFY PLAYLIST https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5te... Follow us on SNAPCHAT   / 4874336901   Follow us on SPOTIFY: https://open.spotify.com/show/4z4yCTj... iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/n... Follow us on Social Media:   / 4874336901    / nojumper    / nojumper    / nojumper    / nojumper   JOIN THE DISCORD:   / discord   Follow Adam22:   / adam22   adam22bro on Snapchat Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Detox teas. Booty bands. “2 workouts a week is enough.” Welcome to Instagram Fitness, where fake coaches sell PDFs, ex-Games athletes rebrand CrossFit, and quick fixes run wild.In this episode, we cut through the BS and talk about what actually works.• Fake Insta Coaches: Zero experience, just shredded bodies and copy-paste programs.• Quick Fix Culture: “Abs in 7 days” scams that burn people out instead of building them up.• The 2–3 Days/Week Myth: Why beginner advice keeps you stuck if you never progress.• Ex-Games Athletes Selling “Non-CrossFit” CrossFit: The hypocrisy of blaming the sport while selling the same thing under a new label.

The trio talks with Rachel Doherty, founder of www.bootyandbrains.co, who shares her personal journey with Alzheimer's and how it led her to explore the connection between fitness, muscle health, and brain health. They discuss the importance of metabolic health in preventing Alzheimer's, the role of movement in maintaining cognitive function, and practical tips for incorporating exercise into daily life. Rachel shares how understanding the science behind these connections can empower individuals to take control of their health and make informed choices daily and simply to help prevent Alzheimer's Disease. This episode is full of knowledge and direction that you do not want to miss!

BIG show tonight as the gang talk about Ultima Online's 28th anniversary, Steam's big mistake and absolute CHAD who came to the rescue, James Comey's indictment, Google's admission that Biden forced them to censor people, Jimmy Kimmel's return, and how amazing Warwick Davis is! All this PLUS the legendary chat names and a radical top 5!

Send us a textChaos Queen Jessica Cage joins Constance to break down the filthy, funny, fantasy-filled Accidents Happen series. From flavor-enhanced demon dick to rainbow-farting pets and shadow walkers with remote-control peen, we cover it ALL—including how “booty juice” became BookTok canon.

Katy confessed that she is traveling to another state primarily for a romantic encounter with a man she loves, but it's unclear if he feels the same way about her. What should she do? Is this the right choice for her, or could it end up breaking her heart?The fun continues on our social media pages!Jeremy, Katy & Josh Facebook: CLICK HERE Jeremy, Katy & Josh Instagram: CLICK HERE

CK and Carmen On Demand....EVERYTHING you missed on this morning show. Get caught up NOW!!!!

The new Rumps & Bumps jersey just dropped! Check out afterpartyinc.com. It's the UNCUT x AFTER PARTY Collab you've been waiting for! Eddie Blendz steps into the After Party and talks about his journey in becoming a barber, owning his own studio and talks up WEST TEXAS SHOWDOWN. Plus! He answers some horny questions and gives us the Eddie Tea. Follow us on social media @AaronScenesAfterParty Watch the full video and listen to the episode on all platforms and head over to our instagram @ AaronScenesAfterParty

I'm making my own sacrament. Check out our merch! ▶ https://pleasestopshopping.com/ Support the podcast on Patreon ▶ https://www.patreon.com/SirMeowMusic Join the PST Discord server! ▶ https://discord.gg/YNqTT65 Links:  @SirMeowShow  ▶ https://bsky.app/profile/sirmeow.gay  @BrendanielGaming  ▶ https://bsky.app/profile/brendaniel.bsky.social  @MandaloreGaming  ▶ https://bsky.app/profile/lordmandalore.bsky.social Shina ▶ https://bsky.app/profile/happi-arts.bsky.social Podcast ▶ https://bsky.app/profile/pstpodcast.com Art ▶ https://bsky.app/profile/b00rad.bsky.social Video Template ▶ https://bsky.app/profile/thehangingrabbit.bsky.social Chapters: 0:00 Intro 0:21 Weiner Weiner 4:14 Patti Mayonnaise Type Baddie 11:15 Aunt Fanny's Tour of Booty (2005) 20:18 Hello Miss Shina! 20:32 Sorry, Miss Shina.. (Viral Middle-Eastern Desserts) 25:10 Horrific Childhood Eats™ 29:13 How To Make Your Own Sacrament 32:26 My Childhood Hero Was Kevin Smith 40:42 Childhood FREAKY Eats™ 47:48 Good Boy Points 54:39 Patreon Questions! 1:30:14 Outro + Credits Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Americans are numb to debt because most owe money. Electric refrigerators are airing advertisements on their screens. And Fred goes on a rant about public restrooms!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Fred asks the crew what their favorite comeback is to use in an argument. Plus, Fred goes on a rant about public restrooms.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

TT0-231 Derrick Wedding and Treasure Coin, Jimmy Buffet, Irish Kevin Key West Florida, Cubans, Smirnoff Ice, Shitting Pants, Women's Restroom, Booty, Vows, Acrostic Poem, Boat Trip, Salvage Title Abandoned Shipwrecks, Coin Collections Alien Earth, X-files, King of the Hill, Soundboard, Spinal Tap, Spaceballs, Parody Movies, UFO Aliens Contact Ignored, Large Language Model, Hellfire Missile hits UAP, 1800 Water Orders Taco Bell, Snap Benefits, Soda Chips Sugar, Farmers Workers, Food Deserts, Farmers Market,

John Lennon's killer Mark David Chapman was denied parole for the 14th time. Actress Margo Robbie showed off her butt in her a see through dress at her "Big Bold Beautiful Journey" movie premiere.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Shoutout to our listener Sarah for the episode topic request! This week, Amy and Liv are covering haunted Montana... and let us tell you, that state is haunted as hell. Visit our site: girlsgonespooky.comFollow us @girlsgonespookyContact us: girlsgonespooky@gmail.comStay spooky, babies!

THE FASTEST GROWING PODCAST IN BARBADOS IS BACK WITH A BRAND NEW EPISODE. THIS WEEK FELT VERY INTIMATE... LIKE WE WERE HAVING CONVERSATIONS IN PRIVATE THAT YALL COULD HEAR... YOU BE THE JUDGE. HOPEFULLY YOU ENJOY!!!!

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Welcome to Episode 18 of the "I Feel Like" podcast, where Tee_IFLG, MikeOnHyde, and TonyThumbs try out a new software Riverside! in this episode the go over what they been up to, things that got them f*cked up, and things they feel like talking about on the internet.Don't forget to follow us on all the socials to stay locked in with the squad and never miss an update! Join our Discord to get your questions answer on the podcast!Discord: https://discord.gg/JTfTb77FVRInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/ifl_podcast?igsh=c3VnOWJ4MnZqbzc0&utm_source=qr Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/0y3ujO98ykCUUl9jGrTOp7?si=WVo1r6RRS9OyRD8A-Ffj_A ApplePodcast: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/i-feel-like-podcast/id1491985343

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In this episode, we spill all the details from a recent house party that turned out to be way more than just drinks and small talk. From meeting some amazing new friends to jumping into games that had everyone laughing (and blushing), it was the kind of night that reminds us why we love the lifestyle community so much. Of course, no party recap would be complete without a little playful embarrassment. Turns out Chloe might be able to spot Mike in a crowded room, but put his ass in a police lineup and she's completely stumped. We had way too much fun teasing each other about it, and we think you'll have just as much fun listening in. Make sure to follow us on our social media: Instagram: @DiaryofaSwingingCouplePodcast X: @DiaryofaSC Don't forget to check out: www.tabotaevents.com www.tangledbodies.com

Booty gatekeeping

(00:00) We heard there was a booty fest happening only to learn it was all a LIE! (14:11) Christopher Price covers the New England Patriots for the Boston Globe and joins Toucher & Hardy to share his thoughts on the upcoming NFL season! (PLEASE be aware timecodes may shift up to a few minutes due to inserted ads) CONNECT WITH TOUCHER & HARDY: linktr.ee/ToucherandHardy For the latest updates, visit the show page on 985thesportshub.com. Follow 98.5 The Sports Hub on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. Watch the show every morning on YouTube, and subscribe to stay up-to-date with all the best moments from Boston’s home for sports!

On this short teaser episode you'll hear me and Mr. Midnight rating the booty pics that were submitted in to my Best Booty Pic Contest on my Discord. TONS of pics were submitted and you'll hear us go through and give our super honest opinions about them. To hear us critique way more pics PLUSSSS see all the pics, join my Patreon or pre-order my book and you'll get free access to my Discord. Links to everything below. The full episode is one hour long and it's on my Patreon and my Discord. **To see ALL the booty pics plus hear the whole critique PLUS see anonymous pics of my female guests + hear anonymous confessions + get all the episodes early and AD FREE, join my Patreon! It's only $7 a month and you can cancel at any time. You can sign up here: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/StrictlyAnonymousPodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ and when you join, I'll throw in a complimentary link to my private Discord! MY BOOK IS NOW OUT FOR PRE-ORDER!!!! Strictly Anonymous Confessions: Secret Sex Lives of Total Strangers. A bunch of short, super sexy, TRUE stories. GET YOUR COPY NOW: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://amzn.to/4i7hBCd⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠   To join SDC and get a FREE Trial! click here: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.sdc.com/?ref=37712⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ or go to SDC.com and use my code 37712   Want to be on the show? Email me at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠strictlyanonymouspodcast@gmail.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ or go to ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠http://www.strictlyanonymouspodcast.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ and click on "Be on the Show" Have something quick you want to confess while remaining anonymous? Call the CONFESSIONS hotline at 347-420-3579. You can call 24/7. All voices are changed.   Sponsors:  ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://vb.health⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ To get 10% off Drive Boost by VB Health use code: STRICTLY ⁠⁠⁠https://beducate.me/pd2528-anonymous⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Use code: ANONYMOUS to get 50% off your yearly pass plus get a 14-day money-back guarantee ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://bluechew.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Get your first month of the new Blewchew Max FREE! use code: STRICTLYANON ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://viia.co/STRICTLYANON⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Try VIIA and use code STRICTLYANON for great SEX and sleep ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://butterwellness.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Use the code “STRICTLY” at checkout for 20% off your entire order To get $15 OFF your female oxytocin arousal tablets and more, use code STRICTLY here: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://shamelesscare.sjv.io/xLQ3Jv⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Follow me! Instagram ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/strictanonymous/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Twitter ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://twitter.com/strictanonymous?lang=en⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Website: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠http://www.strictlyanonymouspodcast.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Dom and D are back with another fantastic episode. This edition they discuss: 3:06 Jussie Smollett documentary 25:36 Damascus TV show 32:24 Crowder the Booty sniffer is back 42:30 National Guard in D.C. For what really 58:47 Tyreek Hill's divorce settlement 1:15:13 Cracker Barrell and Good Genes Party Subscribe to the Everyone Needs an Aquarius Patreon https://bit.ly/3tXnnCz  Go cop your candles from Dom at www.saint-angeles.com/candles and use the promo code: Aquarius Email the show at straightolc@gmail.com           Follow SOLC Network online Instagram: https://bit.ly/39VL542                                    Twitter: https://bit.ly/39aL395                                     Facebook: https://bit.ly/3sQn7je                            To Listen to the podcast Podbean https://bit.ly/3t7SDJH                                YouTube http://bit.ly/3ouZqJU                                Spotify http://spoti.fi/3pwZZnJ                                Apple http://apple.co/39rwjD1                                                         IHeartRadio http://ihr.fm/2L0A2y 

C&R bring the laughter as they react to research about NFL fan's love lives affected by wins & losses! They debate the use of force on the kid who got crushed by security after running onto the field in San Diego! Plus, Sanders/Gabriel, & 'OLD-SCHOOL WHEN 50 HITS!'See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Dana suffers through David's riveting tale of flying coach—yes, coach—and the painful neck it left him with. Turns out, Dana's been there too, thanks to some aggressive couch-based TV marathons. The guys also debate Brad Pitt's Once Upon a Time in Hollywood spin-off (or is it actually Joe Dirt 2?), and spotlight the infamous Burbank Booty Sniffer. Plus, a NYC biker halts a garbage truck because he's too enthralled with listening to Fly On the Wall (allegedly).  To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

On this episode, DCMWG begins by thanking all the Cousins for listening to episode 200 w/Dr. Umar Johnson (:55) before diving into the recent release of Christian ‘Booty Tickler' Wilkins from the Las Vegas Raiders (1:25). In true DCMWG fashion, the somber discussion of Ozzie Osbourne and Malcom Jamal Warner's passing turns to moments of levity when she and Phelps discuss the Osbourne's reality show (9:50). The episode continues with trending topics; Coach Prime beats cancer (12:55), the Tea App (15:45), and the blocked release of the Epstein files (25:30) which gets interesting when the production team plays a call from a supposed Trump supporter (32:30). The episode concludes with a recap of the 200th episode party and podcast with Dr. Umar (40:45)                                                            ------------------------- JOIN THE DCMWG PLUS COMMUNITY FOR UNCENSORED & BONUS EPISODES, AD-FREE LISTENING & OTHER EXCLUSIVE CONTENT: https://dcmwg.supportingcast.fm -------------------- Get your real life advice from Mona on the show! Dial 267-225-2492 and leave a question for a chance to have your voicemail answered on an episode. The best voicemails may get a call back on our Callin' All Cousins subscription episodes. ------------------------- See Mona's Stand Up Or Sit Down Comedy Tour at these upcoming shows: 7/31 - Richmond 8/29- Baton Rouge,  9/11 - Los Angeles, San Diego - 9/14. Get tickets at https://linktr.ee/DontCallMeWhiteGirl ------------------------- Executive Producers for Breakbeat: Dave Mays & Brett Jeffries Executive Producer: Don't Call Me White Girl Producer: Zack James Co-Producer: Ebonie Dukes (@iammsdukes) Visual Production: Creative Mind Productions: Vernon Ray (@AllMoneyShots) & Rebel Hill Productions: Zack James (@ZJames_RHC) Instagram: @BreakbeatMedia @DontCallMeeWhiteGirl @PhelpsJugo  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices