Throw yourself on an anti-breasts grenade to save the squad: today's TERRIBLE advice

24 Nov 2021

Patricia asks

Hola! Getting my boobies chopped on Thursday and haven't mentioned it to most people. What should I tell them happened? (EDIT: what do?)

My answer

Tell them you valiantly threw yourself upon an anti-breasts grenade to save the rest of your squad.

Consent is sexy❤

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Books You May Find Surprisingly Snazzy

The Sex Commandos Thwart The Third Vaginal Apocalypse
~~ Part 2/6 ~~
The Soviet Sluts Superb
Turns out out-flirting Imperatrix Bardot is like trying to wank off Mt. Blanc when it's wanking you back. Plan B: skedaddle, regroup, out-flirt the entirety of France and get loads more practice, then it's stealthy-sneaky Round Two or bust.

The Sex Commandos Thwart The Third Vaginal Apocalypse
~~ Part 3/6 ~~
The Cervical Supremacy
Turns out flirting with every ladybro Rambo in France produces Rivals and Frenemies and Jilted Waifus galore. Smashing fun, but utter Kryptonite for Imperial kill-plans. Like, ever tried noshing off a world leader whilst a billion fanb0is fondle your buttocks? Want to? Read on!

The Sex Commandos Thwart The Third Vaginal Apocalypse
~~ Part 4/6 ~~
The Praetorian Prostitutes
The game's up! The irresistible force of fanb0i-fondlemania has headbutted the immovable object of a gazillion furious Paris cops. They too thirst for Sex Commando patoot. Crunch time. Either launch one final rocket-strike against Bardot and France, or Earth's free nations forever perish.