Harding jokes
My cousin died last week. He needed a blood transfusion, but we didn't know his blood type. He just kept saying, "B positive, B positive," but it's hard to be positive with him gone.
Which one's super super corny?
1. What's blue and not heavy? (🤔) Light blue.
2. What's blue and super hard to see?
Dark blue. (🤔)
What motorway lane does Stephen Hawking use?
Hard shoulder.
What is long, hard, and has cum in it?
A cucumber.
Tired kid with asthma: "It's hard to breathe."
Gym Teacher: "That's alright."
Other Kid: "Hush!"
Obama has dih.
But the Twin Towers just had a hard landing.
What animal howls at the moon and eats cement?
If you guessed wolf, you're right! I threw in the cement to make it hard.
Harder than a diamond in an ice storm.
Hey girl, are you a diamond pick?
'Cause I'm as hard as obsidian.
Why [doesn't] Hollywood make a good movie about holocausts?
Because it's so hard to skin Jewish characters.
"Mom, these balloons are hard to blow."
"Son, stay out of the drawer."
What's long, hard, and bloody?
The Boston Marathon.
One dog said to the other dog, "Man, it is hard sleeping on the floor."
The other said, "Really? I like my bed."
Jack opened his drying eyes, awoken by a piercing ray of sunlight shining through crooked blinds. A gentle smell wafted in from the corner of what his temporarily blinded eyes knew to be a dilapidated kitchen. It was the one good thing about his life, that smell. He closed his eyes once more and awaited his call.
“Jacky, breakfast time!” beckoned that oh-so-familiar girlish voice. “Oh, silly me, the handcuffs!”
The same footsteps he always heard, the only ones, tapped along the tile floor as each one of Jack’s limbs were freed from the cold metal that imprisoned them. He’d learned not to resist it, and the acceptance was blissful.
Jack slowly dragged himself to the kitchen table, still adjusting his eyes to the light. Moments later, a bowl was slid over to him by a hand he’d become all too familiar with. Oatmeal with little bits of dried apple mixed in. Even after four years, he still liked it.
“Thank you, Randy,” Jack muttered.
“Jill,” said the girl’s voice across from him. The girl’s voice vanished.
“You call me Randy when I’m having my way with you, boy. Understood?” said the balding, sweat-stained man from whom Jill’s voice came.
“Yes, sir.”
“Now hurry up and eat your food. I want to have some more fun before you expire.”
Jack ate obediently, but deep down he grew concerned. Expired? What could Randy mean by…expired?
He thought back to the day everything went wrong. The day he was deceived. His 14th birthday.
Four years…already? Was Jack really about to be an adult? Then expired means…
Jack stood up quickly, hitting his knees on the table with a thud.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Which one?”
“The one you don’t like to watch,” Jack replied. Randy waved him away dismissively.
Jack paced around the small shack searching for the bathroom door. He passed the heavily locked front door, each lock a memento of his past escape attempts. Finally, he entered the bathroom. No lock, he had to be fast.
Jack searched desperately around the room for anything he could use. If this was his last round before Randy was through with him, it might be his only chance to escape. He opened drawers, scrounged through cupboards, scoured every inch of the floor, but found a small mirror.
“Almost done, Jacky?” called the voice of Jill. “Don’t keep daddy waiting.” grumbled Randy.
Startled, Jack lost his grip on the mirror. Jack froze the second it fell to the floor and shattered.
“Shit…shit!” he whispered sharply, trying to brush the mess away. In doing so, he found a shard large enough to be held. “This’ll have to do…”
Jack slid the shard in his pocket and returned to the living room he had woken up in. The same old deflated mattress was still there, iron bars and all. Randy lay sprawled across it, a pink lace bra covering his hairy chest, matching panties withholding his dense, greasy bush. His waist had grown so fat they hardly fit, until…
SNAP!
The panties seemed to vanish as the waistband broke, springing his embarrassing, already erect penis from side to side.
“Oopsies,” he cooed.
Jack took off his clothes, as was the ritual, and laid them at the foot of the mattress. His sore knees pressed into the stained fabric while he inched closer to Randy’s pulsating cock. Licking his lips, Jack bent down and took the member into his mouth. Randy groaned with pleasure as Jack’s tongue swirled around his tip, diving into the lining of his foreskin to gather what curds of smegma were present. Jack’s nausea at this had vanished long ago, he was merely going through the motions before enacting his plan.
As he throated Randy’s dick over and over again, the man who had trapped Jack for so long began to thrust upward into his mouth, lightly scratching his face with the overgrown pubes that lined the base of his cock. Jack wiggled his tongue in Randy’s urethra, just how he liked it. Anything to get this over with quicker.
“Ungh, fuck…don’t stop Jack, you dirty little whore…I’m so close,” Randy moaned.
Jack sucked harder and harder, faster and faster, all while his hand slowly inched toward the makeshift blade in his pants behind him. With the weapon in hand, Jack gave it everything he had.
“MMMPH FUCK YES, CMON BABY GIVE IT TO ME! OH JACK, OH, OH FUCK, I’M G-GONNA CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!” screamed Randy, closing his eyes tightly.
He threw his head back and Jack took his chance. With one fell swoop of the glass shard, he sliced Randy’s dick clean off, spitting the half of it still in his mouth out. Jack lunged at the injured Randy, glass still in hand.
“AAARRGGHHHHHH, FUCK! HAAH…FUCK!” Randy cried, semen oozing out of his bloody stump of a penis. He opened his eyes just as Jack thrust the blade straight into his right one, then his left. Left weak from the orgasm, Randy could hardly fight back.
(To be continued in comments)
Nostalgia hits you like a train.
It's so hard, you can even wake up.
I hope you have to pull hard on a candy wrapper only for the bag to pop and have the candy fall on the floor.
How many Tottenham players does it take to win a trophy? It doesn't matter how hard they try, they still can't win one anyway.
Why is life like penises?
Women make it hard.
Why did Stephen Hawking die? Because he got bummed too hard in the shower.
FaceBook Story: My mom loves FaceBook; she literally posts every day, but this day was sort of a hard hit.
So what happened was my mom got tired of her old name on Facebook, so she changed it to Thatmilf85, and I don't want to explain what milf means, but she got a lot of DM's from a lot of old guys. BUT, this one exact guy named Johnny Sins asked my mom if she wanted to do an adult film. I don't know what that is. I think it's an adult movie, of course, so she says yes and flies out to San Diego, and she never came back after yesterday, and to YOU Johnny Sins, my mom better be Ok and that adult film better be an adult movie and not a por...