Message-ID: <13450eli$9807281438@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 393 Passions Playpen NND g2 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: roller666@earthlink.net Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <35BCC3E6.6F12@earthlink.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- “This is the end.” - Jim Morrison --------------------------------------------------------------- HEY, MAN... I have a picture of James Cameron’s classmates in high school. It’s from 1971. Here’s a picture of some real Americans: One guy is dressed in an expensive fur coat, as if he were a woman buying jewelry on Fifth Avenue in New York. The guy next to him has on a beret and sunglasses, and is smoking a cigar. (In high school, for the school photo!) In addition to his puka-shell necklace he is wearing a long-sleeved shirt made from an American flag. (I wonder if he had to ‘desecrate’ it to cut it into a shirt?) The third guy in the front row, sitting next to the young man in the American flag, is wearing a fur-rimmed jacket, as if he’s Liberace looking for a date. Real Americans, every one of them. And I have a question for them, “Where are you?!” Where are the young men of the 1960’s? You used to never shut up. Every day, you’d be standing around with your long hair and your beards, saying things like: “But why can’t we all be communists?” “Why can’t we have sex with underage girls?” “Why can’t we surrender to the North Vietnamese?” “Why can’t we grow our own food and get rid of supermarkets?” On and on it went. You NEVER shut up! And, you didn’t just talk. You founded nudist colonies, you flooded the high schools (and junior highs) with drugs, you walked around waving the North Vietnamese battle flag. And you made the pregnant, white, well brought up high-school girl the coolest thing on the planet. (Hell, I still remember a pregnant 10-year-old Brooke Shields in a public service ad!) But where are you today, young men of the 1960’s? I turn on the T.V., what do I see? Middle-aged women, complaining. On every channel they are complaining. You see some woman with a trumped-up grievance, saying that what this country really needs is (yet more) law and order. In the rare event that a man is on T.V., it’s usually to report some “horrific” event. (That is, an event where somebody other than the forces of repression scored a small, temporary victory). And the man is crying! Is that the new vogue now, men, to shed tears every time someone strikes back at this repressive system? Take TWA flight 800. The air conditioning blew up. We live in a mechanical world and sometimes unexpected things happen. After all, sitting on your ass at 30,000 feet in an air conditioned tube is slightly unnatural, don’t you agree? Remember nature? So sometimes things go wrong. An air conditioned tube filled with naked apes all eating and shitting at 30,000 feet falls back to earth. Yet the man involved, officially, in telling us about this event is crying! A plane falls out of the sky, men are crying. A kid shoots up his school, men are crying. Someone shoots up the U.S. Capitol, men are crying. Even in 1971, when guys put on fur coats to be photographed for their high school picture, they didn’t cry. Sure, they talked sometimes about ‘being more sensitive’ but it was just talk. They didn’t go around acting on it. In fact, here’s the real dope: If some guy did talk about the need for men to cry, do you know why he said such a thing? 1. To get laid. 2. To piss off the older generation. What is left of the young men of the 1960’s? I don’t hear much from you today. Hell, I don’t hear anything at all. Once in awhile one of you is on T.V. crying, but other than that you have grown completely silent. Do you notice what has happened to this society? It’s much more repressive and totalitarian today than it EVER was in the 1960’s, when you were constantly complaining about it. So long, young men of the 1960’s! Enjoy your lives, wherever you are. Did you finally blend into that painting, ‘American Gothic,’ with the frumpy wife on one side, and the bald-headed man with the pitchfork on the other, both of them with brains like fried eggs, knowing only that what the world really, really needs is more law and order? (Except even they would be shocked by the computerized police state that we have today.) Soon the young men of the 1960’s will be sitting with their wives in old folks homes. God, that’ll be fun, won’t it? You can just sit around listening, and crying, while your elderly sexless wife does all the talking. You can watch a lot of T.V. as you sit there. Oprah will be on, talking, and Judge Judy, talking, and ten thousand other women, all telling us how we need more law and order. When they’re not on, some man will be crying because The System (remember that term?) suffered a temporary setback. It’s a rather sad end for you, young men of the 1960’s, in my opinion. But I’m not going to cry about it. Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY NAKED girls and more at: http://www.AlessandraSmile.com Issue No. 393 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Passion’s Playpen Chapter Five Kate looked around. Her eyes fell on Cindy. To her surprise, the girl was tied by nylon stockings to the bondage table. Kate had no idea who the stockings belonged to, but behind Cindy stood Nancy, a belt in her hands. It looked like a man’s trouser belt but no man had entered the game room with a stitch of clothing on; was the belt and the stockings standard equipment in here, rather than what one would think, items to help make the body modest? Kate guessed it must be so. Nancy either end of the belt in a fist and she was passing the belt back and forth across Cindy’s bottom. Not whipping it, but polishing it, as one might hold a long cloth in order to pass it back and forth across a man’s shoe, shining it for him. Except Nancy was not shining a shoe but a bottom, Cindy’s bottom. The girl waited for the inevitable. Kate was relieved to see that someone had at least put a pillow under her tummy. She hoped Nancy understood that Cindy was pregnant. Nancy dropped one end of the belt. She stepped back. She aimed and practised stepping forward. Then, in a very fluid, practised motion, as if she’d whipped her boss’s bottom, perhaps, after work, Nancy let fly with the easy end of the belt (not the buckle) against Cindy’s poised bottom. “EEEEEEEEEK!” Cindy screamed. Her hips bounced as the tongue of the man’s belt struck her soft hiney. Nancy smiled, bit her lip, stopped a moment and watched Cindy squirm painfully. As she watched Nancy put a hand to her own bush and masturbated her slot. She had nothing to put in it save her fingers but she seemed delighted, just her and Cindy, it appeared, for everyone else was busy, Nancy whipping and Cindy receiving. “Are you ready for the next one?” Nancy asked at last. “Yes, but please NOT too hard!” Cindy said. Cindy tossed her lovely red hair, which was loose about her shoulders, and jiggled her bottom a little. Nancy, tawny as a leopard, leaped back, twirled the man’s belt she held, and then, like a wicked ballerina, stepped into the stroke and brought it smacking against Cindy’s brazenly offered ass. “OOOOH! That’s too hard!” Cindy yelped, before passing on to a high-pitched scream. It was girlish in pitch, as if she wished to hear herself scream as much as anything, though her bottom told a different tale. A deep red mark formed across her enticingly white bottom, showing the damage Nancy had done. NAKED AT THE NEWSSTAND by holy joe Club, “Numero 20”, $5.50. From France. No web site listed. Review: There is a new magazine at Tower Books. It sells out immediately, every month. It’s called Club. You might think I’m speaking of the American magazine called Club, but I’m not. This magazine, which is also called Club, is from France. It’s bigger than an average magazine. It’s glossy and colorful. It features breath-taking babes, in creatively posed pictorials. “Numero 20” of Club is sold out. But I’ll give you a quick review of it anyway, so you can be sure to grab the next issue! On page 6, a young redhead leans over the hood of a car. She lies very submissively on the car’s hood. She’s naked. Her skin is pearl-white. Standing behind her is another naked girl. She’s blonde. Lifting her chin high, thrusting her hips forward, the blonde pretends to butt-fuck the submissive redhead. On page 7, there is a photo of a girl who is clothed. She’s a brunette. She has large, beautiful eyes, a small nose, and full red lips. She’s one of the most beautiful high school girls I’ve ever seen! Her name is apparently “Liv Tyler.” (The whole magazine is written in French, so I can only guess at her name.) On page 9 is a pictorial featuring “Sylvie”. She’s blonde. She’s buxom. She’s wearing silky black panties with a gusset, running between her legs, that is as slender as a strand of spaghetti. On page 11 Sylvie pulls down her panties. You see something utterly amazing: that slender thread of fabric running between her legs splits in two! Now why would Sylvie need to have an opening in that thread-like gusset? In back? Where the gusset, slim as spaghetti, crosses over her asshole? There can only be one reason: so that her boyfriend can conveniently fuck her up the ass, without the need of removing her panties! (Never mind that his dick would probably tear the panties as he thrust himself through that opening.) Hot, huh? Which allows me to make two points to American pornographers: 1. Don’t just print photos of naked young women. Print photos of ‘underage’ girls too, even if you’ve got to print photos of them with their clothes on. (As in the case of Liv Tyler.) 2. EDUCATE us! I never knew that there were panties with slender gussets, that girls wore, that had holes in the back of them so they could be fucked up the ass. This is the sort of thing I want to know about! The next pictorial is titled “Douche Sur Les Doudounes!” (Page 18.) I guess what that means is that the girl in the pictorial, a brunette named Elizabeth, douches her duodenum. (The uppermost part of the colon.) You see Elizabeth sucking on an ice cube on page 19. Then, on page 21, are two of the sweetest photos I’ve ever seen in my life! Elizabeth, lying on her tummy, looks submissively into the camera as she offers her bare bottom for fucking. In the photo below that one, Elizabeth lies on her back, her legs spread, diligently sucking on an ice cube. How pink her nipples look! How young and virginal her cunt is! And how utterly perfect her face is. Now, turn the page. EEEEEYAH! What a photo! It’s a huge, double-page spread of Elizabeth on her hands and knees. She’s offering her delicious young ass to be fucked as she licks an ice cube and gazes over her shoulder at you. Best of all, in addition to her wonderful ass and cunt so nicely exposed, you see her full, heavy young bosoms hanging down from her chest. Is she waiting to play a game of ‘Ride ‘Em Cowboy,’ cooling her thirst for sex by licking on that ice cube? Why is her hair wet and messy? Has she already been fucked, perhaps in a group grope, but is still wanting more? On page 27 is another pictorial, “Anita”. She’s blonde. Her hair is pinned up, loosely, with strands of golden hair hanging down past her face. She gazes into the camera, wearing a white coat. She looks like a student nurse. But it’s time for some fun, because her coat is open and we see her lovely naked bosoms resting on her arms, which are folded over her ribs. On page 28 Anita lies on her belly on a chaise lounge that bears an uncanny resemblance to a doctor’s examination table. Her hair is still pinned up, but now her white coat has been lifted to show off her naked bottom. She gazes back at the camera, as if staring at the doctor who’s giving her training on how to become a nurse. Her legs are spread, showing the fruit of her delectable cunt, and the small bottomhole between the cheeks of her ass. “Today we shall learn about Barium Enemas,” you can almost hear a doctor saying to Anita. Page 30-31 is a double-page spread. There’s a photo in the upper left-hand corner. It shows Anita kneeling on all fours, offering her bottom for some post-enema fucking. Then in the larger photo that’s splashed across both pages, Anita lies on her back. Her finger is stuck in her mouth. Has a friend of the doctor arrived? Is he looking for someone into which he can thrust himself? Nobody wants “sloppy seconds,” of course, but just because Anita’s bottom is filled doesn’t mean her mouth is! You can almost hear the doctor’s friend unzipping, as Anita, with sperm oozing out of her bottomhole as she lies on the chaise lounge, waits to be filled yet again. WHEW! There’s still more, but I’m exhausted. Don’t think those were the best pictorials, that I’ve described. There’s even better ones further back in this issue. Buy this magazine and you will be happy. The French know how to make porn much better than any American publisher does. she dreamed of Keith Richards by Will Dockery you told me that there's nothing wrong, you need to know what's really going on. you say you love me I believe that's true I need a little more from you. action action happy action speaking like happy action to see what I've heard c'mon my poet girl, show me the word. Action action you know I need happy action is what I need, on your happy action. you see me sometimes and you know it's clear, I love you baby, year after year. If you can remember what it was like to feel this hurt though it's crushing my spirit, I will always be there for you. action action happy action dreaming of our happy action you need please backtrack just a little baby, one way or another this separation just can't work. Action action you know I need your legs wrapped around me love shots, love taps, I'm starving and on my last smoke. AND IN THE END... Along the park that fronted the river we passed dozens of lovely young girls riding their bicycles, and Page leaned over and leered at them, saying, “Good mornin’, little schoolgirl, I’m a li’l schoolboy too.” - Dispatches, by Michael Herr, pg. 242. -------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------ -Back issues (and stories): type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browser’s “Location” window. Press your “return” key. Click on “Power Search” in the middle of the screen. Next, Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the box that appears. Click on “find” (the button to the right of the box). -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/ -When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges’ Radiant Identities and David Hamilton’s The Age of Innocence. Support art! -Also by David Hamilton: A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years of an Artist Need a book? http://www.amazon.com - NAKED girls, under 18! Plus scholarly books. Publishing for over a decade, it’s Alessandra’s Smile, P.O. Box 2377, New York, NY 10185-2377. Phone: 1-212-505-6985; Web: http://www.AlessandraSmile.com - JOIN the world’s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, 537 Jones St. #8418, San Francisco, CA 94102. Phone: 1-212-807-8578; Web: http://www.nambla.org -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder. -Official Newsletter, Temple of Pan -END OF 393 EMISSION Cameron’s high school photo: Dreaming Aloud, by Christopher Heard, pg. 85. “It *couldn’t* have been *that* bad,” Page said, and Flynn and I laughed. “You’re just pissed because you missed it,” Flynn said. - Dispatches, by Michael Herr, pg. 243. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----