Title Onanism display'd: being, I. an enquiry into the true nature of Onan’s sin. II. of the modern Onanists. III. of self-pollution, its causes, and consequences; with three extraordinary cases, of two young gentlemen and a lady, who were very much addicted to this crime. IV. of nocturnal-pollutions natural and forc’d. V. the great sin of self-pollution, with the judgment of the most eminent divines upon this subject. VI. a dissertation concerning generation, with a curious description of the parts, and of their proper functions, &c. according to the latest, and most approv’d anatomical discoveries
Original Publication United Kingdom: E. Curll,1719.
Credits Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https:
//www.pgdp.net
(This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
Note: Very slowly relearning Spanish. Polite Spanish. So unsure what the best translation for “mustache ride” was. 🤔 Btw, there’s one-sided Lalo/Nacho.
Imagine Lalo thinking of you in the shower.
He had more or less seduced you away from Nacho.
If he ever felt guilty about anything, Lalo thought, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, it would never be that.
Ignacio already had live-in girlfriends. The last thing you needed was to be part of a harem. Competing for affection. Romance shouldn’t be soured by jealousy.
For Lalo Salamanca, love was all consuming. And he wanted the object of his desire to feel that way, too.
Or, you figured, the objects of his desire. You were safe in Albuquerque. Occasionally visiting your boyfriend’s uncle or grandmother. Fulfilling the role of concerned sweetheart.
Varga obviously hadn’t reciprocated his boss’s feelings. Otherwise, how would those hitmen have gotten in? The other Salamancas didn’t keep you in the loop. You weren’t one of them.
Much to Lalo’s frustration. At least you hadn’t been at home. Though he pined for you so badly. And Ignacio.
Lalo turned away from that thought. Soaping up his swelling member, Eduardo daydreamed of what he’d be doing if Hector’s stroke never happened.
You’d be spread for Lalo, in his bed. Legs entwined with his. Nuzzling his face. Your hole always knocked him out. If you weren’t in the mood for PIV, mustache rides. And if you were there with him, in the gas station shower, you’d be on your knees. Lips, tongue, and throat comforting him. Lalo could have really used some comfort sex.
His pumping stilled. You’d visited Don Hector when Lalo revealed his survival. Whether his uncle would’ve told you if you weren’t there, who knew? For all of Eduardo Salamanca’s intensity, the Salamancas weren’t your in-laws.
Yet, decided Lalo.
Varga was still out there. And the Chicken Man. Once your querido Eduardo filmed evidence of Fring’s weaseling, shot him, and showed the video to Don Eladio… Then he could do something about Ignacito. If Marco and Leonel hadn’t already.
Lalo had so much love to give. You were inundated with it. You and only you. That’s what he kept repeating, as his pumping grew frenzied. Lalo had so much love to give.
______ and only ______.
Thick ropes of his seed splattered the wall. It would all go down the drain in a minute. He thought of picking up a box of condoms, then thought better of it.
Lalo smiled. The enemies of the Salamancas were going to have to worry about the next generation.