Just Quit Your Job And Go Backpacking In Europe, You Cuck

I’m a free spirit. I move where the various winds of change blow me. That’s why my wife and I fly with the eagles across the Atlantic to see the beauty that Europe holds every six months or so. Some people say that a 46-year-old man like myself should be settled down with his wife and hypothetical kids and have a steady job. But they’re wrong. Why should I be locked away in a cubicle in restrictive clothing when I could be overseas, watching someone fuck my wife?

Is there anything more inspiring than the Eiffel Tower? Sure, Paris’ monument may be considered too kitsch by some, but its beauty and masterful design are a gateway to the stars and the heavens above. Surrounded by the beauty of Paris itself, it is a towering landmark that reminds you where you are. Is there anything better than that? While laying on a couch, in a darkened French basement, watching your wife get plowed by a Frenchman while he yells “zut alors,” you can walk upstairs, look out a window, and know you’re in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. 

But what about you? Why are you still sitting at your desk, reading this tripe? Imagine yourself somewhere else. You’re standing in the Highlands of Mongol Altai in Mongolia, surrounded by natural beauty. You take a deep breath in and taste the air. It’s refreshing. It’s clean. You look down and see a large Mongolian man thrusting vigorously on top of your beautiful wife. How does this scenery make you feel? Are you ashamed to see your wife with another man, a stranger? Or does this turn you on? Probably the latter.

Your wife, sensually enjoying another man, while you watch, longingly.

I just can’t stay in the United States if I want to be cucked. I’ve tried. Believe me. There’s something unsatisfying about a sea of naked, twisted flesh taking its turn on my wife at a Milwaukee Brewers game like some sort of baseball bukkake. It doesn’t humble me or sexually motivate me the same way a Tuscan gangbang does. Fine Italian men graciously take their turns and get in line to majestically [EDITOR’S NOTE: Too sexually graphic, removed] while all saying “Grazie” to me before they leave the town square where I’ve set up a blanket. The whole town can see [Too sexually graphic, removed]. And I always make sure to [Too sexually graphic, removed] all over the nonnos in attendance. Grazie to you, Grosseto, Tuscany! 

Wouldn’t you love to just walk up to your boss, right now, look them dead in the eye and say, “I can’t be here anymore. I need to go to England and [Too sexually graphic, removed] right in the center of Stonehenge while Prime Minister Boris Johnson [Too sexually graphic, removed].” It’s a dream that can be your reality because I know you. You love watching your wife [Too sexually graphic, removed] with a group of strangers who [Too sexually graphic, removed].

Who are you not to go to Europe to see your wife with another man? You have nothing to lose. Your boss doesn’t care about you, and they won’t give your wife the time and attention a villager from Poland would. Your boss can’t caress her body like Sebastian can. Your boss can’t [Too sexually graphic, removed] in the same way Jakub can. It’s time to quit. You have no choice.

One thought on “Just Quit Your Job And Go Backpacking In Europe, You Cuck

Leave a Reply to Brennan Weaver Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s