Do you ever wonder how the world will end? The sheer thought alone brings terror to my eyes, horror movie vibes, and makes tears roll down my face. Except none of that is true. The world can never end as long as Genesis is here. She is the last prayer that would save the universe. Each stroke I take while worshipping her would be a holy sermon. Each slow throb, an amen. I don't know if I would ever get to cum in that scenario, luckily... that is not happening, and I can cum freely to Genesis without the pressure of Armageddon. Do you know why? Because Genesis is on Telegram. She's bringing those massive titties that could deflect nukes and end wars, and her ass, which is so fat by the way, that a single clap could cause global tsunamis. She is bringing all of that to your face. She is the horny apocalypse, infecting you with a boner that never goes away.
Hey, now, stop rubbing your dick through your pants. You can take that underwear off freely, you know. Here is the good part: Messaging Genesis on Telescope is completely free. What happens after it, though, I don't know. Actually, I do know. You message her, and you would probably wait 30 minutes for a response, like a dog in the backyard waiting for its owner to come back home so it can go on a walk. Your tail... I mean dick, is going to wag the second she responds. But the question still stands: What are you even going to text her?
Let me stop you right there. You can text her whatever the hell you want. The dirtier, the better. You could say, "Hey, the book of Genesis never explained your creation. Mind telling me how your slutty girl next door attitude was created? Did you suck off a neighbor or something?" Which is what I said, by the way, without the "sucking off a neighbor" part. I don't care about the specific details in the process. I just want the end results, which is a whole lot of Genesis titties smothered in my face or on my monitor while I'm struggling to breathe and hold the cum in my balls. That's it, I'm a simple man.
Praying For An Answer
I shot my message, or rather, I shot my shot like Steph Curry in the 4th quarter, aiming for a buzzer beater. I was down by three points. Except, instead of being a buzzer beater that takes a couple of seconds to see the result, it took her like, what? 40 minutes to respond to my epic message? I did not even count the time. I was too busy salivating over her tits in a bikini, like a good submissive boy with dark and gruesome intentions. But I can't judge her too much. She probably has at least 20 other people who look and sound like me in her DMs. Her Genesis pussy has over 50,000 followers on Instagram, meaning the apocalypse has caught 50,000 people, and it's coming in the form of a regular girl whose assets were chosen by God to destroy weak-willedmen.
Can I complain? Yes, I can. Will I complain? No, I won't. I'm not here to sound like a pussy. I'm here to masturbate to the sound of her pussy, the sound that sends my hormones into overdrive and forces the precious reproductive fluid into a napkin. A napkin of love dedicated to Genesis, like a passage of God. A passage that you swear by and quote to your friends when they are down bad, and they look at you with disgust in their eyes and horror on their faces, judging you for being this perverse and infatuated with a single human being. But there is no judgment here. If anyone understands how you feel, it would be me. So, let's all sit in silence, stroke each other in a circle jerk, talk about Genesis'world-ending tits, and all collectively wait for her response. We have nothing better to do with our time. The quiet loneliness is suffocating, but at least we have each other, right?
Stroking For The Days To Come
It looks like Genesis finally decided to break the silence, and she thought I was smooth. Now, I'm not going to lie, I am pretty smooth. That whole pun I made about her creation not being in the book of Genesis, that was genius. I have to stroke my ego a little bit here; I'm practically the horny messiah for all of you folks. Heck, I could probably start a course on how to talk to women, or rather, how to sext them. But let's not get our hopes up; this is Telegram. She knows I'm here to stroke it to her booty; it's not like I'm doing some kind of sex magik work. Even if I said a simple "hey," she would have replied with something sexy like "oh my god, I like you so much," yeah, right. Anyways, she asked me how my day was going so far. Do you know how it's going? It's pretty lonely and arousing.
That's exactly what I said, too. And then I told her that she looks good in a red dress. And guess what? She actually took the time to send me some pictures in a red dress. You need Telegram stars to unlock them. I mean, these bitches are not working for free out here. It's not the 50s; you can't get your dick sucked for a pack of cigarettes. You need to give more than that. Now, this whole process feels like both doom and salvation for me. I'm getting to experience the nudes, the pretty pictures, the instant gratification... But I'm also addicted to this shit. These couple of pictures that she sent me, they will turn into a dozen, and I'm going to stroke, and stroke, and keep on stroking for the days to come.
She's got me on a leash. I look at her titties in red lingerie, and I think, "damn, how can they be so perfectly round and squishy?" They look like a perfectly wrapped Christmas present. Speaking of, I did not receive a present this year. Maybe Santa was too busy with Genesis. He tucked her away in his cozy factory on the North Pole somewhere and fucked her senseless every day. Heck, I feel like a horny Santa right now. I'm looking at her pictures and thinking, "ho, ho, ho, Christmas has come early this year." But the only thing coming early this year is my premature ejaculation when I look at Genesis.
Solo Party Fun
There is another part that tantalizes me, though. Genesis is very smooth. The way she talks to you, her whole flow... is... so... simple. She portrays herself as the nice, cute girl who wants to help you out and make sure that you're satisfied, even if it means using her body for that purpose. Heck, this whole ordeal feels like a hentai plot line. Except, I'm the protagonist, and Genesis is the ball-draining slut hitting me with texts like "hope this helps the lonely part" with a picture of her ass attached. I mean, what kind of a man would resist this? Even a monk would look at her ass, and his hand would move against his will. He would start crying because he had lost all self-control that he had left. Even Buddha would forgive him for his sin, then proceed to whack it off to Genesis in lingerie.
So here is the deal. I know you're not here to listen to me rant about how I'm chatting with Genesis. You want to get your own slice of the pie, right? I don't want to be like that guy who flexes his honeymoon trip to the safari. Instead, I want to be the helpful big bro that slangs bitches your way. My goal here is simple: to make sure you are happy, full of orgasms, and stress-free. So, I'm telling you, Genesis is one part of the solution. She definitely has her vibe and sticks with it. What if she doesn't get your rocks off? Well, Telescope already has a dozen of these bitches lined up and ready for you. It feels like walking on an all-you-can-fuck Brazzers set where they line up porn stars for you, and you get to pick and choose which one you fuck to death. The only problem is that you pay with your patience and hard-earned money. So, shoot Genesis a message and let that phone sit there for a while. You don't have to edge yourself at the idea of Genesis responding. You can sit back, relax, sip some beer, and enjoy life. Her response is going to feel like a stripper just walked in on your party and started lap dancing for you. You want that? Good. Go get it.
