Just as the Bradys were getting locked in jail, Lara randomly asked me, “Have you ever gotten a blowjob?”

>Just as the Bradys were getting locked in jail, Lara randomly asked me, “Have you ever gotten a blowjob?”
>“Um, that’s out of the blue,” I said.
>“The blue?”
>“Like, you know, out of left field.”
>“Left field?”
>“Like, in baseball. Like, out of nowhere. I mean, what made you think of that?”
>“I’ve just never geeven one,” she answered, her little voice dripping with seductiveness. It was so brazen. I thought I would explode. I never thought. I mean, from Alaska, hearing that stuff was one thing. But to hear her sweet little Romanian voice go so sexy all of the sudden...
>“No,” I said. “I never have.”
>“Think it would be fun?”
>DO I!?!?!?!?!?!?! “Um. yeah. I mean, you don’t have to.”
>“I think I want to,” she said, and we kissed a little, and then. And then with me sitting watching The Brady Bunch, watching Marcia Marcia Marcia up to her Brady antics, Lara unbuttoned my pants and pulled my boxers down a little and pulled out my penis.
>“Wow,” she said.
>“What?”
>She looked up at me, but didn’t move, her face nanometers away from my penis. “It’s weird.”
>“What do you mean weird?”
>“Just beeg, I guess.”
>I could live with that kind of weird. And then she wrapped her hand around it and put it into her mouth.
>And waited.
>We were both very still. She did not move a muscle in her body, and I did not move a muscle in mine. I knew that at this point something else was supposed to happen, but I wasn’t quite sure what.
>She stayed still. I could feel her nervous breath. For minutes, for as long as it took the Bradys to steal the key and unlock themselves from the ghost-town jail, she lay there, stock-still with my penis in her mouth, and I sat there, waiting.
>And then she took it out of her mouth and looked up at me quizzically.
>“Should I do sometheeng?”
>“Um. I don’t know,” I said. Everything I’d learned from watching porn with Alaska suddenly exited my brain. I thought maybe she should move her head up and down, but wouldn’t that choke her? So I just stayed quiet.
>“Should I, like, bite?”
>“Don’t bite! I mean, I don’t think. I think—I mean, that felt good. That was nice. I don’t know if there’s something else.”
>“I mean, you deedn’t—”
>“Um. Maybe we should ask Alaska.”
>So we went to her room and asked Alaska. She laughed and laughed. Sitting on her bed, she laughed until she cried. She walked into the bathroom, returned with a tube of toothpaste, and showed us. In detail. Never have I so wanted to be Crest Complete.
>Lara and I went back to her room, where she did exactly what Alaska told her to do, and I did exactly what Alaska said I would do, which was die a hundred little ecstatic deaths, my fists clenched, my body shaking. It was my first orgasm with a girl, and afterward, I was embarrassed and nervous, and so, clearly, was Lara, who finally broke the silence by asking, “So, want to do some homework?”

Your little sister has read this book.

Other urls found in this thread:

youtube.com/watch?v=fHMPtYvZ8tM
twitter.com/SFWRedditVideos

Why does he have to look for Alaska?
Just get a map dude lmfao

I don't have a little sister. But I've read the book.

Why is this cunt so obsessed with Alaska when he has a Romanian qt asking his fucking permission to blow him?

John Green needs to stop projecting his numale pussy-on-a-pedestal bullshit onto his characters, but then he'd probably sell fewer books.

My little sister has better taste than that.
I'm nothing if not an efficient brainwasher.

>DO I!?!?!?!?!?!?!
seriously, please do not tell me this guy actually wrote this in is his book and thought it was okay

Is this real?
This might be the worst thing I have ever read. I feel sick.

holy shit this is real

it's hard for me to believe that this is real

I don't like seeing the face of people who write this sort of stuff. I didn't think it was that cringey.

Here he is trying to defend himself, and also defend the teaching of the book in public high schools.

youtube.com/watch?v=fHMPtYvZ8tM

He's such a dweeb

>blowjobz are not worth writing or reading about.
Literal fag detected.

This isn't real, right?

> Never have I so wanted to be Crest Complete

please be fake

Jesus, this sounds like the fantasy of some nerdy high school kid who just wants the girls to finally see his positive, sensitive qualities

It's real, and likely taught in your local public high school.

if you commented on this thread, kys.
i myself am about to commit sudoku.

Me first!

Livestream it

Veeky Forums Challenge: Post a John Green excerpt or write like a fag and have other anons try to guess if its real or not.

>“Saying 'I notice you're a nerd' is like saying, 'Hey, I notice that you'd rather be intelligent than be stupid, that you'd rather be thoughtful than be vapid, that you believe that there are things that matter more than the arrest record of Lindsay Lohan. Why is that?' In fact, it seems to me that most contemporary insults are pretty lame. Even 'lame' is kind of lame. Saying 'You're lame' is like saying 'You walk with a limp.' Yeah, whatever, so does 50 Cent, and he's done all right for himself.”

I'm having a really hard time coming to terms with how bad this is. I have read that shit passage twice now, trying to find something redeeming about it, and it's really fucking with my head. How and why do so many people like this? I've been told to read this book by an embarrassing number of people. It's insulting and troubling to know that when I tell people that my main hobby is reading, this is what they imagine.

I hate that I know this is real.

>When they were introduced, he made a witticism, hoping to be liked. She laughed extremely hard, hoping to be liked. Then each drove home alone, staring straight ahead, with the very same twist to their faces. The man who’d introduced them didn’t much like either of them, though he acted as if he did, anxious as he was to preserve good relations at all times. One never knew, after all, now did one now did one now did one.
your little imouto read this passage

>"That's THE thing, Quentin," Margot's words come out of her mouth like breath. "We're paper, paper people like paper dolls, just like the paper town. Break the people here down into little pieces and all you get is confetti. We are a paper town living in a plastic word and we don't want to wake up and read the newspaper. Newspapers delivered by paper boys. We are marked by our paper cuts. Even on 9/11, the last remnants of the towers were just papers machéing the streets in their dying irony." Margot's breast heaves like vacuumed lungs. I took a moment to breath in myself. "You can see it, right?" She asks me, like this time she is really asking, and not just asking to ask.

>The city below us glitters like the stars above us and her star-filled eyes. I am: shaking, my intestines are in my bowels and in my throat. I realize that near her I am not even the paper in the wind. I am the dust.

Because literal fags hate blowjobs, of course.

>Even on 9/11, the last remnants of the towers were just papers machéing the streets in their dying irony
I doubt even John Green would write that. Although he did set a romantic scene in the Anne Frank house.

>She was like peas to my carrots as she sat on the chair with a listless look like Uhara from Star Trek or as a Nubian Princess on the throne of Egypt by the side of her Pharaoh, which was me, and then we played Mario Kart and she beat me relentlessly although I tried my hardest because she was better than all the rest and then she turned to me and asked "Do you love me?" "In this moment and in the next," I said thoughtfully, "What about the one after that?" She asked cutely. "That one too," I replied. "What about the one after that too?" She asked again. "Of course, I love you for all the moments until infinity," I said back to her. "So you love me forever?" She asked once again. "I love you forever, or until Betty White dies." I answered smugly, which, of course, is just as good as forever; that old Golden Girl.

From a young woman, I should have specified.

Thanks for helping me hone my analysis of this masterpiece.

Well played

>Margot's words come out of her mouth like breath

>!?!?!?!?!?!?!

>I went to my room but didn’t change.
>I brushed my hair and teeth and put on some lip gloss and the smallest possible dab of perfume.
>I kept looking at the flowers.
>They were aggressively orange, almost too orange to be pretty.
>I didn’t have a vase or anything, so I took my
toothbrush out of my toothbrush holder and filled it halfway with water and left the flowers there in the bathroom.

So the story is about how he has ED?

I didn't cum when I got my first blowjob I was way too scared
But the second time I came buckets

Good for you

k.. keep me posted

>John Meme

>my intestines are in my bowels

almost got me there user, wp

he wanted to be Crest complete?

As in, he wanted to be miniaturized, his entire body being fellated by this woman?

L...l...lewd

Hey Pseuds,
My name is John, and I hate every single one of you. All of you are fat, retarded, no-lifes who spend every second of their day looking at stupid ass poems. You are everything bad in the world. Honestly, have any of you ever gotten published? I mean, I guess it’s fun making fun of people's writings because of your own insecurities, but you all take to a whole new level. This is even worse than unironically enjoying graphic novels
Don’t be a stranger. Just hit me with your best critique. I’m pretty much perfect. I've had six books published, and started my very popular web series. What have you written, other than “my diary desu”? I also got a Printz award, and have a ridiculously successful young adult novel (it just had a movie deal; Shit was SO cash). You are all pseuds who should just kill yourselves. Thanks for listening.
Pic Related: It’s me and my book

>All of you are fat, retarded,
You're an impostor. John Green has apologized for using "the r-word" in one of his books. He doesn't say it anymore.

This raises a question. What about characters who are supposed to be shitty people saying retard, or homophobic or racial slurs? Or people who are struggling to overcome racism or some other prejudice after growing up around it?

Would he seriously avoid using the word "retard" in a context where someone was actually being shitty to someone who was mentally handicapped? Isn't that diluting and misrepresenting the struggles people actually experience?

And?

The book is about teenagers, marketed to teenagers, and deals with what teenagers do.

Unless you're a misanthropic Virginia this is all pretty normal shit to experience when you're young. It's not high art, but it's hardly pornographic given conext.

what makes this scene bad and the poop eating scene from Gravity's Rainbow good?

>this is all pretty normal shit to experience when you're young.
You got a blowjob from a seductive, yet innocent Romanian girl, after another super hot girl taught her how?

Well, no. That part is ridiculous and I'm not defending the books quality.

But I figured op was /pol/ posting about whores and degenerate. I just think the general experience of being blown the first time and the age is done right.

>GR
Brigadier Pudding eats shit
>This scene
The reader eats shit

The prose and the overall quality.

Made me authentically lol

I retract my argument

Holy shit, he literally says one line and then moves purposefully to a different position within the frame (which he edits out) and then repeats. I hate this style of YouTube video and I can't articulate exactly why

that fucking t-shirt

>tfw he's a published author
>tfw when he's a successful published author
>tfw no movie deal
>tfw when no high school kids forced to read your work
>tfw people unironicly read his novels in public and will never read mine

underrated post 10/10

>Your little sister has read this book.
was just thinking that while reading this garbage :^(

Book burning needs to become a regular occurrence again.

Don't it just make you sick?

What the fuck is his problem?

Obviously, he never got laid in high school, so he's living out his fantasies through his writing. Wikipedia even says Alaska is based on a real girl he went to school with.

I never got laid in my life but this is disturbing. Especially, for a former youth minister.

Authors usually only end up writing what they know. If they only write about insufferable leddit types what does that tell you?

I thought about thanking her dad, but maybe that would be weird. Besides, my maybe-girlfriend was already headed up the stairs.
"Come on," she chirped coyly, throwing a knowing glance at me over her shoulder.

Didn't have to tell me twice. I gave Mr. Debbinks my best impression of a polite, honest, not-about-to-fuck-your-daughter smile. Then, stomach dropping with a potent combo of agony and anticipation, I followed Kady up the stairs.
I quickly succumbed to the urge to admire her bulbous rear end as she ascended the staircase. It floated above me in tight black jeans, jiggling slightly with each step.
"Shit..." I started to moan under my breath. But nerves made me swallow the last half of my exaltation, and instead I muttered, "Shig".
"What's that?" Kady snapped, whipping around to glare at me.

>her bulbous rear end
What is she a fucking baboon?
That's real isn't it.

Nice man

>Never have I so wanted to be Crest Complete.

How can this possibly be real...

>“The blue?”
>“Like, you know, out of left field.”
>“Left field?”
>“Like, in baseball. Like, out of nowhere."
>"Nowhere"
>"Your being obtuse"
>"Obtuse?"
>"You know like slow to the draw"
>"The draw?"
>"Like, in a duel. Like in an old Western"
>"A western"
>"Like, you know, "Woah take her easy there Pilgrim"
>"Pilgrim?"
>The first settlers of American. Like, you know, The Mayflower

Hahaha hahahahaKEK
(Sincerely)

The worst part is that it's all true. At the end of the day he is well off, well respected and happy with his life, even if all he does is write shitty, cliché-ridden children's books.

The difference between irony and genuine retardation.

>Elias lay on his back on a mat of woven reeds, sheepskins padding the ground under him. His head swam with wine and the events of the evening. The stars twinkled at him through the gaps in the thatch, and a very slight breeze penetrated the woven walls. Was he really some sort of ordained, chosen liberator? He didn't feel like a hero, but at the same time, the thought of these people being attacked and harassed by pirates made his blood boil.
>He laced his fingers behind his head. If Delain agreed, they could resupply and retrofit the ship, and use it to hunt pirates. If they happened to capture any alive, they could turn them in at Port Greenreef for a bounty. Jonas would likely be on board enough for that, as would most of the rest of the mercenaries. That would finance their mission, along with the aid they would get from the sea elves.
>A noise at the open end of the lean to caused him to halfway sit up. “Who's there?”
>“I am." It was Coral.
>He sat all the way up. “Is something wrong?”
>She moved in the darkness, a barely visible shadow crossing the distance between them. >“Nothing is wrong. I came to keep you warm this night. The sea breeze can be chilling to those not accustomed to our islands."
>“Oh, that's alright, I'm not cold-”
>Coral's lips cut him off, her tongue playing against the tip of his. Her soft hand caressed his chest, fingertips running from his sternum to circle his navel, causing him to jump slightly at the sensation.
>She broke the kiss, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “Is something wrong?”
>He shook his head. “No, nothing's wrong. I'm just a little ticklish. ”
>Coral giggled. “Is that so?” Her left hand found his cheek as her lips moved to his neck, kissing and running the tip of her tongue over the pulsing vein under his jaw, her fingertips tracing circles against his cheek. Her kisses moved down, tracing a path from his neck to his chest.
>He felt frozen in place, unable to do much but lay back and witness what she was doing. His quickening pulse thundered in his veins as he set his right hand on her thigh, running it back to her lower back. She was back in her loincloth; he could feel the woven cord holding it in place over her hips.
>As his fingertips ran over the dimples at the base of her spine, her lips found his left nipple at the same time her hand found his right. He gasped as she pinched and suckled at the same time, sitting back up. “Coral-”
>She sat up with him. “Is something wrong?” she asked again, her low voice seductive in the darkness.
>“Coral, I don't think... uh... you don't have to do this."
>She sat back. “Do you not want me? Do you wish me to leave?”
>Elias shook his head emphatically. “No, that is not it at all."
>“Then why do you stop me?”

>Elias was torn. In the one hand, his body was responding, and responding in full force. On the other hand, should he really be doing this with a girl he'd just met? “I don't know if this is right to do."
>She moved to straddle him, sitting on his lap, her hands on his chest again. “My father is not the only one who receives visions from the gods. All of those from our line are gifted in that way. My father, his father, and his father's mother. I am no different."
>She caressed his shoulders, running her fingers along his collarbones. “It was foretold that my promised would be the one to free the tribes, and I would bear his son."
>Gently, she kissed him again. “That would be you, Rapa Whero."
>Elias quirked a brow. “Rapa Whero?”
>She giggled again, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It means Red Giant."
>Elias could feel her bare chest pressing against his, and his objections crumbled even faster. He set both hands on her hips, pushing her back slightly. “I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."
>She moved her hands to his cheeks, moving his head to face her eye to eye, despite the darkness. “Then I won't." She rose upon her knees then, pressing his face to her breasts.
>All of his resistance disappeared then. The heat rose in him, a type of adrenal urgency as he took her breast in his mouth, flicking her nipple with his tongue. She gasped, her hands running through his blonde hair, pressing him in harder before running down to his shoulders and pushing him back down onto the sheepskins.
>She straddled his torso, the leather of her loincloth hot against his skin, between her legs. She guided his hand to the knot that held her loincloth in place, and he pulled on one of the strings. Obediently, the soft leather fell away. She sat up for a moment to pull it out of the way and toss it aside, then leaned back down, her lips tracing a path from his chin down to his navel.
>His breath came quickly, a low rumble in his chest every time one of her fingers flicked or lightly pinched one of his nipples or traced over a sensitive area. She nipped the bottom of his navel lightly, making him jump. He could feel her smile against his skin, as her breath came in a quiet chuckle. She was certainly enjoying herself!
>He felt her hands on the waist of his trousers, tugging on the tied drawstring. He reached down and tugged on the knot, loosening it. As soon as it gave, her fingers slipped into his waistband, drawing them down to his mid thighs. He bucked his hips to help her get them out from under him, causing his manhood to spring forth in front of her.
>He jumped again as he felt her soft fingers run up his length, from the base to the tip, then back down again. “Rapa Whero is right!” she breathed, the sensation of her breath against his skin making him shudder slightly.
>She straddled his knees now, leaving his trousers only partly down, pressing his legs together with her own.

>He could not see what she was doing, but he could sense and feel her movements. Her other hand gently lifted his testicles up, so they weren't being squeezed by his thighs, while her right hand moved gently up and down his length, slowly working his foreskin back.
>He was sitting upon his elbows, head back, reveling in what she was doing, when he felt the warmth of her lips pressing against his tip. >Gasping, he fell back, his hips thrusting forward, seemingly of their own volition. She gripped his shaft, sliding her hand down to pull his foreskin back all the way, and took as much of him into her mouth as she could. Her tongue flicked against his head as her left hand intermittently massaged his testicles and the base of his manhood.
>With no idea what to do with his hands, he set his left hand on the back of her head, the other gently on her wrist. She bobbed up and down, taking about a third of his length into her mouth with each stroke, his hips rolling in time with her motions.
>His mind was racing. He had never been with a woman before, and though he had spent plenty of time envisioning it, he hadn't imagined it being anything like this. She seemed to sense his urgency, as she pulled back with a slight gasp of breath. He hadn't realized that he had been pushing her head down with his hand. Not hard, but enough to push himself in a little bit deeper.
>She crawled up along his body, her nipples tracing twin paths up his thighs, his wet and slick manhood passing between her breasts. >He felt her tuft of pubic hair brush against him as she passed his member, tickling from the base of his shaft to the tip. He kicked out of his trousers, leaving them both fully naked.
>She shifted her weight, rolling to his side, pulling him up with her. Laying on her back, she took his left hand and guided it between her legs. “Here, ”she said, her hand over his, tracing his middle finger from the back of her womanhood, past her warm, moist opening, to the crown of her flower. She pressed down with his finger, making little circles, then slipping it down and between her folds, hooking it towards the front. “Like that."
>He leaned over, his blood thundering in his ears. He copied her motions, alternating between rubbing her center and slipping his middle finger in and out of her femininity. Her damp hair was under his palm, rubbing him as she bucked her hips in time with his motions.
>Leaning in, he took her nipple in his mouth again, flicking it with his tongue, bringing a gasp and a slight moan from her. He worked his finger in and out of her, rubbing her clitoris on occasion, switching between her breasts with his lips and tongue.

>It didn't take long before she was gasping for breath. She shuddered, her muscles bearing down against his finger, clamping on like she was trying to hold him in place. Her hips shivered as she bucked against his hand, forcing his finger deeper in her despite her grip. One hand grabbed his, pushing him harder into her, while the other grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragging his lips up to hers in a frantic kiss.
>Her tongue drove into his mouth with an urgency he had never experienced, so he returned the favor. As soon as his tongue parted her lips, she pulled on it, sucking it for just a moment before breaking free, her breath ragged.
>His own breath came in short gasps as she wriggled about. He sat upon his knees as she moved from her back to her knees, facing him. Taking him between her lips, she gave him a few hurried passes, her tongue lingering on his tip, before she lay back again, her knees spread.
>“Come here."
>That was all the invitation he needed. Settling between her knees, he placed himself at her opening, searching for the right angle. With how tight she was against his finger, he wasn't sure if he could fit without hurting her.
>Reaching down, she spread herself with one hand while taking his member with the other, guiding him to the right spot. Once he felt his tip slide in, he gave a single long, gentle push. >She gasped as he filled her, wrapping her ankles around the back of his thighs, her hands passing under his arms to hold on to the back of his shoulders.
>She took about half of his length before he pulled back, then pushed in further. All of his indecision from earlier was gone, all of his reticence, and now it was just the two of them in this world.
>At two thirds of his length, he felt resistance, and she winced. “Gently, ” she cooed, “that's enough for now."
>He nodded, his breath shaky, and pulled back slowly, building in rhythm and speed as he felt himself nearing climax. Despite his best efforts, he pushed a little bit deeper each time, but she seemed to be able to take it with each new thrust. Her eyes were squeezed shut, little sounds coming from her as she rolled her hips with him.
>Just as he built to climax, she clamped down with her legs and hips, sliding the last inch of him into her lotus. Her shaking hips ground against him as he thrust hard, supporting himself on his knees and left hand, his right hand around her back to hold her close to him. He could feel his essence pouring into her as her passage clenched and unclenched, feeling like it was milking him for everything he was worth. The sensations was unlike anything he had ever felt before, and a low, rumbling, wordless moan escaped his lips. She buried her face in his chest, a long >“Mmm,” turning into a sigh as she relaxed under him, her backside resting against the fleece.

>He rolled to his right side, her right leg still kicked up over his left side, holding them together. She bucked her hips playfully, causing him to jump from sensitivity. She giggled again.
>“Did you enjoy yourself, Elias?”
>He ran a hand through her raven black hair. Pulling her head back, he kissed her deeply.
>“Immensely."
>“Good, ” she said, resting her head on his arm. Soon, she was asleep, and he was not long after.

And that's how you write some fuckin' porn.

'Hank, I dont think theres a single halfway normal person in the world who would find a single think in my book in any way arousing'

Oh fuck off that excerpt in OP says otherwise I call bull

Ew fucking bad reads like hentai

You read a lot of hentai?

>I left her house...HER house...for the last time.
>I have never felt such a pain in my life.
>She was everything I had every known. She was the light at the end of the tunnel. She was thunder and hurricane; the perfect beautiful storm. She was the sun that ripened the wine of life.
>Sobbing, crying, weeping, I straggled back home. Storm clouds rolled in, reflecting my life's torn sentiments.
>And then... a tap on the shoulder.
>It was HER
>Many may have gotten angry, jealous, sad, disappointed... to see Tyrone's arm wrapped around her.
>But with such a beautiful smile, and such golden hair, an aura of perfection, I couldn't help but fall in love all over again.
>"Thank you," she whispered gently in my ear; softly, delicately, extravagantly: "And remember; we'll always be friends."

you went overboard with the ending, senpai

You don't?

Unless it has the tentacle hipster rape empregnation of bestiality lolita, no, not really.

It's a super niche fetish, you probably wouldn't have heard of it.

I fucking hate this faggot with a passion.

Think about this for a second. This faggot went out of his way multiple times to stop recording his rant just to move a few inches closer or further away from the camera, just to restart the rant in a different position, to make the video seem more exciting, interesting, and fast-paced. Fuck this guy.