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Admin Erotica


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#1 Vaclav

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Posted 13 August 2013 - 11:04 PM

Does anyone have a copy of the greatest love story ever told?



#2 Panis

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Posted 13 August 2013 - 11:07 PM

I have a mp3 reading that someone other than me needs to make into a video.


"Friendships will last longer than this game ever will" -Dr Hugh Jardon


#3 Flaco Jimenez

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Posted 13 August 2013 - 11:11 PM

http://www.youtube.c...h?v=RcWhRTNXHQA


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1029831-1.png

 

To a kid lookin' up to me , Life ain't nothin but bitches and money. 

Warrior/Poet: Ice Cube. 


#4 Flaco Jimenez

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Posted 13 August 2013 - 11:13 PM

Also your pic is 1:44


1029831-1.png

 

To a kid lookin' up to me , Life ain't nothin but bitches and money. 

Warrior/Poet: Ice Cube. 


#5 Vaclav

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Posted 13 August 2013 - 11:15 PM

Also your pic is 1:44

hahahahahaohaoah I completely forgot about that picture LEL



#6 Panis

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Posted 14 August 2013 - 07:46 AM

http://www.filedropp...m/adminerotica1


"Friendships will last longer than this game ever will" -Dr Hugh Jardon


#7 Blokeman

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Posted 15 August 2013 - 02:11 PM

Admin Erotica, Part I

 

A musk, dank smell filled my nostrils as I opened the door to the eRepublik office. I scanned the room and saw Alexis Bronte hunched over a desk in the corner, completely nude. I begin to salivate as I strut over to his work area. I seem to have startled him, as he hastily pushed a baseball catcher's mitt over his arousal.

"Francois Fotzelecker III, you are early," Alexis whispered in a raspy voice that could have only been attributed to a 3-pack-a-day cigarette habit since the age of 9.

"Oh, but am I," I ask coyly, as I peel off my one-size-fits-all stretch pants and unfasten my oversized suspenders.

My eyes slowly trace his nude chest, covered with grease, down to his stomach, and finally to the baseball catcher's mitt that covered his obvious erection. The baseball mitt was throbbing as if signaling a play.

"Signaling a play, indeed," I thought.

I caught on to my expected role, and I flopped over the desk, throwing his computer to the ground. The glass of the screen shattered and I closed my eyes tightly while biting my lip. Still fumbling with the fastener on my suspenders, I begin to feel incompetent and single tear welled up in the corner of my eye. Alexis stood up, removing the baseball mitt from his manhood and placing it snugly onto his hand.

"Hey, batter! batter!," Alexis screamed in a shrill, pubescent voice.

My eyes, still shut tightly, and my entire body perspiring like a sensually roasted ham, I brace myself over his work desk, soaking the eRepublik server bills with my man essence. I feel his hands grasping onto a fold somewhere on my lower back and before Alexis could penetrate my licentious love cavern there was a loud scream from outside and the door to the office was flung open.

It was George Lemnaru, frothing at his twisted mouth, wearing only an animal-skin tunic and bed-time slippers. There was a glimmer in his eye that frightened me, yet I felt my sphincter uncontrollably wink in approval.


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#8 Blokeman

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Posted 15 August 2013 - 02:12 PM

Admin Erotica, Part II

 

The door was slightly ajar. Awkwardly flinging it open, I pranced into the darkened room. Searching around for a lightswitch, I hear a raspy whisper. Unable to place the demonic-sounding language being spoken, I wet myself and begin to openly weep.

Suddenly the 8m² palace is illuminated by at least fifty heat lamps and Xtasia lay on the floor, obviously drunk.

"Xtasia," I shout in a girlishly shrill voice. "It's ten in the morning!"
"Not so loud," Xtasia pleaded in a strange accent that sounded almost Mongolian. "Please don't wake up—"

With no time to react, I confusedly remove my pants and made a pained face. I feel a slight nudge on my head. Turning around, I see that one of the Romanian-built cardboard walls to the apartment had fallen over. As I push the wall back into an upright position, I hear the door slam shut — annoyingly causing the wall to fall over again. I refuse to pick it back up out of protest.

As I turn around to see who had rudely slammed the door, I see that it is none other than George Lemnaru, standing completely nude and fully aroused, melted butter in his chest hair, and with a sensual flicker in his eyes and nose.

I cautiously glance over to Xtasia who is frozen with fear on the floor, still drunk. I immediately realize that she is being held prisoner. I wet myself again. George Lemnaru growls and leaps forward, throwing me to the ground, violently flips me over on my stomach, and. . .

Biting my lip, I prepared for my punishment, a punishment so deep and ruthlessly hard that only George Lemnaru could give to me. But I felt nothing. Suddenly who I thought was Xtasia peeled off "her" body-suit and revealed that "she" was George Lemnaru. I immediately made a super-model pouting face and twisted my head around to see who was on top of me.

It was Xtasia. Cackling, she peeled off her prosthetic penis and said something in broken English that I had to ask her to repeat about a half dozen times. Frustrated, I bucked like a cantankerous mule and Xtasia flew off of my bulbous buttocks into the cardboard Romanian-built apartment wall, crashing to the ground.

Sweating like a pubescent boy in the hands of a Catholic priest, I leaped up and skipped over to George Lemnaru.

"Follow her," George Lemnaru gasped. "She has held me captive here for years in Romania. Please revenge my sexy honor, my love."
"I will, George Lemnaru," I screamed as loud as I could.

With George Lemnaru's last dying breath, he sat up, grasped onto my neck with his sweaty sausage fingers and locked lips with me. It was if time had stopped, aside from the fact that his arousal was poking into my thigh, oddly synchronized with the second hand's ticking of the clock on the wall. I gingerly rubbed the melted butter in his chest hairs while moaning like a girl scout. George Lemnaru shoved his tongue into my mouth with the passion of a butcher shoving a cutlet of pork loin into a meat grinder to lovingly produce a fine pork sausage. I saw rainbows, stars, sanitary toilet seat covers, and various other romantic visions.

I jumped to my feet, amused by my dangling genitalia for much longer than I should have been before pulling up my skivvies. Wiping George Lemnaru's garlic-drool off of my chin, I momentarily held a melodramatic Superman-esque pose before frolicking out of the apartment, seeking out Xtasia—to avenge my lover's death.

I vowed at that moment to use my trouser truncheon for sexy-good and not sexy-evil.


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#9 Blokeman

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Posted 15 August 2013 - 02:13 PM

Admin Erotica, The Prequel

 

Gasping for breath, I jumped to my feet. The room was spinning and my vision was blurred. I soon realize that I'm completely nude and there is a ball-gag in my mouth. Shaking the sweat from my body like a dog in the rain, I immediately throw myself into a wall, pretending as if I had made this move intentionally. Crawling on the ground and using my body as a sensual compass of direction, I move along the Romanian-built cardboard wall to a door. I make a squatting gesture and after several squat-thrusts I stand up and push my weight into the door, throwing it open.

There I see George Lemnaru sitting at a computer, surrounded by servers. The air smells of lust and greed, somewhat reminiscent of Hamburger Helper®. I shout as if I were a teenage girl searching for her intimate hairbrush in order to defile herself.

"George! Why am I being held captive?"
"Francois, you mustn't see me this way," shrieked George Lemnaru in a tone that almost caused me to make a bowel movement. "You are endangering yourself by being near me. I have changed."
"George, I will always love you. You have always kept my water dish full."

Suddenly, George Lemnaru jerked his body awkwardly around in his swivel chair and I saw that he has indeed changed. Once a man of impeccable skin and reasonably good looks for a Romanian, my eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lights and I saw that George Lemnaru, a boy of 14 years of age, is now jaundiced and drooling from his mouth. He appears to have aged terribly, even for a Romanian.

"What happened to you, my darling?" I plead, fighting back tears.
"Have you seen these 'donations' we receive from people who purchase eRepublik Gold? Do you know how many Romanian-built cardboard walls I can buy with these funds? I don't even have to pay proper taxes here in Romania if I call them 'donations'."
"But. . but. . you originally created eRepublik for sexy-good, George!" I shrieked.
"Francois, my love, please leave and never return. The grease in my chest-hairs will always remind me of you. But I am not the George Lemnaru that you once knew. If you do not leave, I'm afraid that I may not be able to control my animalistic desires."

I couldn't believe my cute little ears. George Lemnaru and I have made gentle love with each other for as long as I could remember, but something has now taken control of his spongy mind, and I feared that my anus will never be the same. . .

I vowed at that moment to rescue my George Lemnaru, even if I must risk incontinence and my sphincteric elasticity.


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#10 Blokeman

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Posted 15 August 2013 - 02:13 PM

Admin Erotica: Roadtrip Edition

 

Xtasia had her droopy breasts flopping in the wind out the window. This was the beginning of a roadtrip, my friends. I had unlocked the child safety locks on the car and she would consistently have her window down, by her own accord, with those flapjacks wafting in the wind. The sound they made in the breeze could only be compared to the sound of a boot stepping in wet mud. I did not care, because I had to concentrate on driving down the highway, my nude and sweaty belly pressed against the steering wheel, extra thrust and control. My mind was clear and sexy with intent.

We were on a mission, you must understand. George Lemnaru had swiftly stolen our Romanian-built cardboard walls to our home that we had built together with our three hands and we had to hunt him down. Hunt him down to recover what was rightfully ours. He was in Las Vegas, gambling with the money he had gained from eRepublik donations.

We stopped hesitantly at a roadside diner, because Xtasia orgasmically demanded pancakes. I conceded to her request, yet did not want to stop due to my admiration of her breasts swaying in the wind out of my car windows. They were as if you had filled the lining of emptied pig intestines with unicorn semen and set it free from a hot-air balloon. True beauty.

Waltzing into the diner, Xtasia drunkenly clumping along wearing her clogs, we were shaken, shaken with shock and perhaps also sexy, being that I'm in the presence of this scenario, seeing George Lemnaru himself sitting, gorging on a platter of gorgeous ham. In sensual shock, we proceeded to dart into the men's restroom, together. There, with Xtasia's breasts still flopping about for some reason, we gazed into eachother's eyes and realized what we had to accomplish. Urination. . .


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#11 Blokeman

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Posted 15 August 2013 - 02:13 PM

Admin Erotica: Roadtrip Edition Part II

 

Xtasia, with a wild glimmer in her sunken Romanian eyes, suddenly became a ravenous beast, even more so than she had been since early childhood. Awkwardly flailing her limbs about in my general direction, she eventually leaned against the wall-mounted hand dryers to regain her composure before throwing me to the stained floors below and leaping upon me.

"Xtasia, what are you doing?" I squeeled.
"You know what we must do", Xtasia panted with the roar of a moderately sized rodent of Peruvian origin.

Peeling her trousers from her hairy body and ripping her oversized bloomers from her buttocks with the all-encompassing sound of tearing a piece of well buttered cardboard in two, I was met with a glorious sight, one of unparalleled erotic grotesque as she stood perhaps a tad too proudly over my sexy little face, pointing her inverted goo bazooka towards my very own eyes.

The following events can only be described thusly: I was consumed with an avalanche of passion, spurting unendingly onto my face and body. Yellow hues of gentle caring, only comparable to that of grandmotherly love. Between bursts of unrelenting, cottage cheese-like liquids of unknown origin, between the banana-hues of the thick yogurt substances gleaming from and encasing my sexy beard with a hardened crust, I had an ethereal vision of the gods and their purpose with me. My entire body soaked with religious sacraments, I flung myself into the nearest toilet stall, alighted with profound purpose. There was yet but one object of conquest and with desire in my focus, I sensuously writhed about on the floor, violently tweaking my nipples in religious fervor. . .

George Lemnaru, this will be our final battle between sexy-good and sexy-evil.


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#12 invaluable

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Posted 15 August 2013 - 02:17 PM

DIS IS SO MUCHO GOLDZ


f8RA4.gif


#13 shadowukcs

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Posted 15 August 2013 - 02:37 PM

Ohgod, the memories

 

 

If you don't remember this, you will never have the priveledge to call yourself an oldtimer


DIO ACKBAR

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#14 Hades III

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Posted 15 August 2013 - 03:12 PM

What I wouldn't give to see FF3's nipple just one more time.


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#15 Pertazeta

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Posted 15 August 2013 - 04:18 PM

An error occurred

You have reached your quota of positive votes for the day



#16 Panis

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Posted 15 August 2013 - 06:42 PM

JIZZ EVERYWHERE!


"Friendships will last longer than this game ever will" -Dr Hugh Jardon


#17 Pertazeta

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Posted 13 June 2017 - 08:03 PM

bump

 


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#18 Pertazeta

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Posted 13 June 2017 - 08:06 PM

http://vocaroo.com/player.swf?playMediaID=s0cPRd9c9XYu&autoplay=0






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