I have a weapon with mass wielding power to blow loads all over the place and myself when I go out and get close to some real women, like within ten feet on a nice day!
I am a social suicide, load blower at a coffee shop in town. I am not allowed there anymore after I lifted a woman's mini skirt while she waited at the coffee shop counter in line and an officer of the law nabbed me from behind.
Once, I am at a lingerie shop and tell a woman at the counter that I am shopping for a girlfriend.
I look around, pick up a pair of garters with panties, head to the changing rooms and try on panties and garter blowing a load in them at touches of silky cotton and lace.
First, I dispense a tampon in the changing room with which I plug my butt.
By the time the clerk gets back to me from up front and sees what I am doing, I am dressed and tell her I will put the panties and garters back on the shelf: that I didn't find anything to buy.
The tampon is still in my butt.
I put the panties on a shelf and start for the door as I see the buxom clerk behind me pick up the panties and garters and discover them soiled.
"You! Come back here!"
I continue towards the door double stepping and I am out of the door to a shrieking cacophony of other buxom clerks coming out of their wardrobe closets stacking lingerie.
"Call police!" is all I hear as the door to the lingerie shop shuts behind me and I am on the streets running to an alley because I have to caca a tampon at that moment.
Squatting in an alley nearby the lingerie store in town and cacaing a tampon, I remove my boxers and wipe with the boxer shorts leaving the shorts on top of the caca'ed tampon and pull up my crusty pants.
However, the smell of caca-tampon is repulsive and I vomit on the boxer shorts over the caca in the alley as I hear sirens in the direction of the lingerie shop where I had been fondling my pecker into panties and garters.
I pull up my pants, remove my button down, white, Oxford shirt and don my tank top onto streets leaving the Oxford in the alley with boxers and caca after wiping puke off of my face with it.
Just when I think it safe around a corner on a street: I hear the distinct sound of a woman's shriek yelling "there he is! Get him officers!"
Then, I lie and say: "not guilty." Now, I am not allowed within ten feet on nice days!
I am a social suicide, load blower at a coffee shop in town. I am not allowed there anymore after I lifted a woman's mini skirt while she waited at the coffee shop counter in line and an officer of the law nabbed me from behind.
Once, I am at a lingerie shop and tell a woman at the counter that I am shopping for a girlfriend.
I look around, pick up a pair of garters with panties, head to the changing rooms and try on panties and garter blowing a load in them at touches of silky cotton and lace.
First, I dispense a tampon in the changing room with which I plug my butt.
By the time the clerk gets back to me from up front and sees what I am doing, I am dressed and tell her I will put the panties and garters back on the shelf: that I didn't find anything to buy.
The tampon is still in my butt.
I put the panties on a shelf and start for the door as I see the buxom clerk behind me pick up the panties and garters and discover them soiled.
"You! Come back here!"
I continue towards the door double stepping and I am out of the door to a shrieking cacophony of other buxom clerks coming out of their wardrobe closets stacking lingerie.
"Call police!" is all I hear as the door to the lingerie shop shuts behind me and I am on the streets running to an alley because I have to caca a tampon at that moment.
Squatting in an alley nearby the lingerie store in town and cacaing a tampon, I remove my boxers and wipe with the boxer shorts leaving the shorts on top of the caca'ed tampon and pull up my crusty pants.
However, the smell of caca-tampon is repulsive and I vomit on the boxer shorts over the caca in the alley as I hear sirens in the direction of the lingerie shop where I had been fondling my pecker into panties and garters.
I pull up my pants, remove my button down, white, Oxford shirt and don my tank top onto streets leaving the Oxford in the alley with boxers and caca after wiping puke off of my face with it.
Just when I think it safe around a corner on a street: I hear the distinct sound of a woman's shriek yelling "there he is! Get him officers!"
Then, I lie and say: "not guilty." Now, I am not allowed within ten feet on nice days!
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