Luiz Franke | Bolshoi Theatre School Institute in Brazil | Instituto Escola do Teatro Bolshoi no Brasil
hello vonnie
Cosimo Galluzzi
taylor price
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Interview Vampire Daily
noise dept.
Sade Olutola
The Stonewall Inn
occasionally subtle

shark vs the universe
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đ©” avery cochrane đ©”

romaâ
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
Aqua Utopiaïœæ”·ăźćșă§èšæ¶ă玥ă

blake kathryn
almost home
Cosmic Funnies
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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@jyh122189
Luiz Franke | Bolshoi Theatre School Institute in Brazil | Instituto Escola do Teatro Bolshoi no Brasil
Harrison James Wynn - The National Ballet of Canada - photo by Trey Mcintyre
On the move Inmates Brazil
country jail USA
They stripped him down to his underwear while he struggled to get away.
Wrestling đâ€ïžđ
"Know what I'm thinking right now? I'm thinking about how you moaned when I bred you after our last match... Oh oh, you're boning up... Ha ha ha." The words echoed in his head, his blue singlet was straining, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the rigid cock now tenting obscenely for all the fans to see. A group of drunk men in the front row noticed immediately, their jeers turning into predatory grins. They grabbed him as he tried to leave the mat, pulling him under the bleachers into the darkness. They yanked his singlet down, and one of them shoved him against a cold support beam, fucking him hard while berating him. "Look at this, a fuckin' whore," one grunted in his ear. He stayed quiet, biting his lip to not draw more attention as they took turns, each one seeding his ass until he was a leaking, used mess, the victory he'd just won completely forgotten
Baseball season is in full swing!!
The NDSU baseball player had a compulsive habit, constantly digging his fingers under the edge of his cup and pushing his nuts back up into it. It was a nervous twitch he did on the field, in the dugout, even while standing for the national anthem. Fans started to notice, and the nickname "Nut-Stuffer" quickly spread through the stands. They would cheer it when he walked up to bat, and the opposing teams took to yelling, "Hey, Nut-Stuffer, lose your balls again?" He was too dumb to realize they were mocking him.
He had a pair of enormous balls, so heavy and full they were clearly visible under the thin fabric of his singlet, creating a distinct, pendulous bulge that swung with every move. His coach finally pulled him aside, his voice a low growl. "Son, you can't wrestle with a set of loaded nuts like that. You're slow, you're distracted. You need to empty them before a match, one way or another." The wrestler, clueless, just nodded. But the fans had already noticed, and a crude chant started "EMPTY YOUR NUTS! EMPTY YOUR NUTS!" They roared with laughter as he adjusted his singlet....the only thing bigger than his balls was his desperate need to drain them.
Post 0226
Scott Richard Jurewicz, Michigan inmate 441992, born 1988, incarceration intake January 2018 at age 29, sentenced to life without parole
Felony murder, Child Abuse, Stalking
Scott Jurewicz was convicted by a jury in November 2017 of first-degree murder and first-degree child abuse in the death of his girlfriendâs son in 2015. He was sentenced to life in prison.
Jurewicz appealed his conviction to the Michigan Court of Appeals, arguing he deserved a new trial because of ineffective attorneys. The appeals court ruled in August 2019 that his attorneys were not ineffective, but the Michigan Supreme Court ruled in September 2020 that the appeals court used an incorrect legal standard and told the court to issue a new opinion.
The appeals court again affirmed its opinion that Jurewiczâs counsel was not ineffective. The three judge court said in the January 2021 opinion. Â
Jurewicz, told police that on March 14, 2015, he shook his then-girlfriendâs 18-month-old son Brenden Hartranft before putting him to bed in the coupleâs Michigan Center home. The boy was removed from life support three days later.
Brenden suffocated, but there was a prior injury that led to the suffocation, doctors testified at trial.
Jurewicz maintained his innocence through the trial, though police said he admitted to giving Brenden a âgood shakeâ and putting him down hard in a playpen.
During the nine-day trial, the jury listened to 22 witnesses and saw more than 120 pieces of evidence.
Jurewicz is also a suspect in the May 21, 2015 death of 21-month-old Jesse Pepper Jr. He was the son of Andrea Conaway, with whom Jurewicz started a relationship before he was charged in Brendenâs death. He hasnât been charged.
2m
Last reviewed July 2025
Reblog
r/66
At the final game of the season, boosters were greeted by each player and provided with a game-used gift. Most were given jerseys, batting gloves, or a baseball bat, but a few lucky boosters were bold enough to ask for a playerâs used athletic cup. Watching the players dig into their jockstrap in front of the fans, pulling out the sweaty, pungent cup was always a special treat for the boosters and deeply humiliating for the players, who had to hand over the intimate piece of gear that had just spent hours protecting their cock and balls.
The teamâs uniforms were cheap and thin, so much so that fans could make out every detail of the cup under the pants. They could see the vent holes and even the top ridge outline of the cup as it jutted out from a playerâs crotch, a problem made worse by the new, partially see-through fabric.
My roommate had this infuriating habit of stripping down to just his jockstrap the second he was home, parading around like he owned the place. When I finally asked him about it, he just grunted that "real men wear jocks," claiming it let his junk breathe without being indecent. It was torture. I couldn't stop staring at the way the pouch strained to contain him, a dark, wiry forest of pubic hair escaping from the sides. I wasn't into dudes, it was just morbid curiosity, but my eyes were constantly glued to the heavy, swinging weight of it, wondering just how much cock was packed in there. I'd catch myself imagining what it looked like soft, what it looked like hard, and I'd have to adjust myself. It's normal for guys to compare, right?
That cowboy was dumb as dirt, strutting around the honky-tonk in his tight Wrangler jeans, thinking every woman in the place was drooling over the confident bulge in his jeans. He had no idea that the real gawking was from the men at the bar, their eyes locked onto the perfect, high-and-tight curve of his ass he so proudly displayed. He'd lean over the pool table, giving the room a perfect view, completely oblivious that half the guys there wanted to ride his ass.
It was brutally hot, and he was sweating like a pig, leaving dark, full-hand prints on his thighs where he rested his arms between pitches. But every eye in the stadium was locked on his crotch. His athletic cup had become a personal swamp, a plastic greenhouse that trapped and cooked his cock and balls until the sweat had nowhere to go but down. It pooled in the bottom of the cup before draining directly out of the pointed tip, creating a massive, dark wet stain on his light-gray pants.
Mark Geilings and Matthew Benjamin Knight - photo by Esa Kapila
Jamie Kennedy in Three Kings (1999)