The Dream's Thorn

by Amy Woods

  Within no time, I could feel the shitty love mayonnaise trickling from my fart valve and all over my panty hamster. My cake hole was so full of one-eyed monster and man fat, the ectoplasm was foaming down my chin and onto my rack. With his ramrod thrusting deep into my clearing in the woods, the sensation of his love muscle smashing my cervix made me quiver like Muhammad Ali on a tumble dryer. There was cock custard seeping from his clunger and I was wetter than an English summer. We were ready for more. With my roast beef platter now much like Brian May's plughole, he thought it was time to start stuffing my tradesman's entrance. Is now the time to tell him I really need to launch a footlong fudge bullet, I wondered? Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his one-eyed monster stuffed deeper into my ring piece. I awoke the next morning with my gaping clam cavern still dribbling. I thought it was over but his pink tractor beam had other ideas. Inserting an antique doorknob into my front bum got me spattering minge monsoon faster than snot off a whip. He munched on my panty hamster, even though I'd been walking the red carpet for the best part of a week. Hours of slamming like this would leave any girl's piss flaps looking like a manatee in yoga pants, and I was no different! The feeling of his steamin' semen seeping down my throat got my flange custard flowing quicker than snot off a whip. The raiding of my cocoa channel was so vigorous, he soon found his man marbles joining his muffbuster deep in my vintage golf bag. I can't wait to suck the creamy load from his sperminator. Now, I've seen more action than Helmand Province, but the sight of his womb ferret made my minge monsoon dribble like someone had poured fairy liquid into Niagara Falls. When he removed his love muscle from my puckered brown eye, he was pleasantly surprised to see a corn-eyed butt snake staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to lap the colon cobra off his battering ram. The fucking makes me flow my sex wee all over his cheese-crusted cock. The mixture of colon cobra and creamy load in my tradesman's entrance created the delicious sphincter sauce that he was so fond of. By now, my hot pocket was flowing like a slavering dog. He dropped a giant sewer trout on my rack just so he could lap it up like a pig at a trough. My pink velvet sausage wallet was trembling like a tasered slab of chopped liver. The seemingly never-ending streams of steamin' semen emanating from his spunk-filled spam rocket soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. After having my hatchet wound raided, he then proceeded to pound my brown eye. If I don't stimulate the genitals through phalangetic motion to get my flange custard draining from my gaping clam cavern, his cunt plunger is going to leave my vertical smile resembling a ripped out fireplace. It was bliss having his greasy kebab skewer probed inside me again; stuffing my whispering eye with a squash just didn't get my enchilada of love squirting like it used to. Some girls are happy just to get a stinky pinky when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a gerbil in my wizards sleeve and an antique doorknob up my turd-herder.

  There was love mayonnaise dribbling from his love muscle and I was wetter than a spastic's chin. We were ready for more. Some girls are happy just to audition the finger puppets when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a squash in my front bum and a lightbulb up my rusty sherif's badge. Inserting a 15" spiked vibrator into my cock holster got me spouting minge monsoon faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. If I don't flick the bean to get my pussy batter leaching from my shame portal, his cunt stretcher is going to leave my purple cabbage resembling a sand blasted tomato. I can't wait to chow down on the Da Vinci load from his all-beef thermometer. He arced a giant Mr. Hanky on my droopies just so he could devour it up like a bulldog eating porridge. My clearing in the woods was trembling like a shitting dog. The raiding of my fart valve was so vigorous, he soon found his jingle-jangle jewellery joining his womb ferret deep in my puckered brown eye. The mixture of butt nugget and creamy load in my shit winker created the delicious sphincter sauce that he was so fond of. With his bald avenger fucking deep into my clunge pool, the sensation of his devil's bagpipe smashing my cervix made me quake like jelly. The seemingly never-ending streams of gentleman's relish emanating from his jade rod soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. By now, my ruby cave was leaking like a jizz waterfall. Now, I've seen more japseyes than an oriental optician, but the sight of his all-beef thermometer made my pussy batter drain like a George Foreman grill. Within no time, I could feel the shitty penis pudding oozing from my fart valve and all over my velcro triangle. The feeling of his ectoplasm frothing down my throat got my shrimp sap flowing quicker than a greased weasel shit. With my velcro triangle now much like a gutted trout, he thought it was time to start probing my poo pipe. Is now the time to tell him I really need to arc a colon cobra, I wondered? When he removed his battering ram from my shit winker, he was pleasantly surprised to see a butt nugget staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to gobble the colon cobra off his flesh gordon. Hours of fucking like this would leave any girl's piss flaps looking like a dropped burrito, and I was no different! He munched on my piss flaps, even though I'd been surfing the crimson tide for the best part of a week. It was bliss having his pink tractor beam shoved inside me again; stuffing my penis pothole with a gerbil just didn't get my ladytown flowing like it used to. After having my carp cavity thrusted, he then proceeded to slam my ring piece. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his purple-headed trouser snake shoved deeper into my balloon knot. I awoke the next morning with my mound of love pudding still dribbling. I thought it was over but his sperminator had other ideas. The unrelenting orgasms from his jebend fucking my ground zero grotto made me come so hard, I began sweating like a white mouse in a tampon factory. The thrusting makes me spout my beige slime all over his master of ceremonies.

  Inserting a gerbil into my sperm socket got me squirting spaff faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. The unrelenting orgasms from his greasy slimelight hammering my gammon alley made me come so hard, I began sweating like a fat slag in a disco. He pinched off a giant footlong fudge bullet on my love bubbles just so he could devour it up like a bulldog eating porridge. Within no time, I could feel the shitty man fat dribbling from my vintage golf bag and all over my open-faced ham sandwich. By now, my shamevelope was leaking like there was a midget inside me with a super soaker. With his wrist-thick wand hammering deep into my smush mitten, the sensation of his tallywacker smashing my cervix made me quiver like Muhammad Ali on a tumble dryer. Hours of raiding like this would leave any girl's flappy meal looking like a clown's pocket, and I was no different! The mixture of Mr. Hanky and creamy load in my turd-herder created the delicious sphincter sauce that he was so fond of. It was bliss having his thrill drill slid inside me again; stuffing my tuna canal with my fist just didn't get my quim flooding like it used to. My penis pothole was trembling like Muhammad Ali on a tumble dryer. With my meaty hangers now much like a blind cobbler's thumb, he thought it was time to start ramming my turd-herder. Is now the time to tell him I really need to curl a footlong fudge bullet, I wondered? My mouth was so full of vein cane and gentleman's relish, the Da Vinci load was slobbering down my chin and onto my droopies. When he removed his disco stick from my Mavis Fritter, he was pleasantly surprised to see a corn-eyed butt snake staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to consume the toilet twinkie off his bald avenger. I can't wait to lap the penis pudding from his kebeb skewer. Some girls are happy just to get a stinky pinky when they're alone, but I can't get off without having my fist in my fuck gutter and an egg timer up my puckered brown eye. The raiding of my fudge factory was so vigorous, he soon found his hairy walnuts joining his thrill drill deep in my old dirt road. The plowing makes me eject my minge mucus all over his love lollipop. Now, I've seen more japseyes than an oriental optician, but the sight of his huge penis made my minge monsoon ooze like a jizz waterfall. The seemingly never-ending streams of cock snot emanating from his bugger king soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. After having my fuck trench slammed, he then proceeded to thrust my rusty bullet hole. Leaving my panties
sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his veiny quim prod plunged deeper into my vintage golf bag. If I don't play the clitar to get my fallopian fish stock seeping from my gashtray, his huge penis is going to leave my panty hamster resembling a twisted slipper. I awoke the next morning with my ladytown still seeping. I thought it was over but his greasy kebab skewer had other ideas. He munched on my beef curtains, even though I'd had my redwings for the best part of a week. There was penis pudding draining from his chubstep and I was wetter than an English summer. We were ready for more.

  Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his eight inches of throbbing pink jesus stuffed deeper into my poop chute. With my spam castanets now much like badly battered road kill, he thought it was time to start stuffing my chocolate starfish. Is now the time to tell him I really need to ease a footlong fudge bullet, I wondered? The unrelenting orgasms from his skeleton king hammering my depravity cavity made me come so hard, I began sweating like a paedo during a prison riot. If I don't strum the banjo to get my spaff leaking from my ground zero grotto, his all-beef thermometer is going to leave my fishy flaps resembling the Japanese flag. The mixture of hardened fudge nugget and gentleman's relish in my poop chute created the delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of. Inserting a gerbil into my ladytown got me surging pussy batter faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. With his stilton sword thrusting deep into my moose knuckle, the sensation of his eight inches of throbbing pink jesus smashing my cervix made me quake like Muhammad Ali on a tumble dryer. By now, my cod cave was draining like a jizz waterfall. He rolled a giant stink pickle on my love bubbles just so he could lap it up like a pig at a trough. It was bliss having his skin flute plunged inside me again; stuffing my salmon slit with a gerbil just didn't get my stench trench surging like it used to. Now, I've taken more poundings than the Somme, but the sight of his battering ram made my flange custard seep like Adele waiting for Greggs to open. The seemingly never-ending streams of magician's wax emanating from his thrill drill soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. Within no time, I could feel the shitty ectoplasm flowing from my soft tight anus and all over my spam castanets. When he removed his greasy slimelight from my puckered brown eye, he was pleasantly surprised to see a hardened fudge nugget staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to consume the toilet twinkie off his tenderloin truncheon. The raiding of my shit winker was so vigorous, he soon found his two amigos joining his bald-headed yogurt slinger deep in my old dirt road. After having my birth cannon plowed, he then proceeded to pound my turd-herder. I awoke the next morning with my south mouth still weeping. I thought it was over but his timed slimer had other ideas. My throat was so full of vein cane and steamin' semen, the magician's wax was weeping down my chin and onto my mosquito bites. The feeling of his ectoplasm leaching down my throat got my fallopian fish stock flowing quicker than a greased weasel shit. My chamber of squelch was trembling like jelly. The fucking makes me spit my tuna tunnel tears all over his slut slayer. Some girls are happy just to flick the bean when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a barbie doll in my furry cup and a 9-iron up my puckered brown eye. Hours of thrusting like this would leave any girl's hairy goblet looking like a twisted slipper, and I was no different! He munched on my vertical garden, even though I'd had the painters in for the best part of a week. There was ectoplasm draining from his cream reaper and I was wetter than a well diggers arse. We were ready for more.

  Inserting a 10 inch purple battery-operated monster into my slime hole got me spouting minge monsoon faster than snot off a whip. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his pink tractor beam plunged deeper into my fart valve. The mixture of hardened fudge nugget and Da Vinci load in my shit winker created the delicious sphincter sauce that he was so fond of. If I don't stimulate the genitals through phalangetic motion to get my beige slime oozing from my cum dumpster, his purple beaver buster is going to leave my spam castanets resembling the Japanese flag. The feeling of his man fat flowing down my throat got my spaff flowing quicker than snot off a whip. My cake hole was so full of wrist-thick wand and cock custard, the creamy load was leaking down my chin and onto my fiery biscuits. The raiding of my vintage golf bag was so vigorous, he soon found his chin pounders joining his ramrod deep in my turd-herder. With his bald-headed yogurt slinger thrusting deep into my moose knuckle, the sensation of his piss pipe smashing my cervix made me quake like a rat on acid. The slamming makes me spray my minge mucus all over his bald avenger. I awoke the next morning with my quim still leaching. I thought it was over but his mutton dagger had other ideas. When he removed his veiny quim prod from my puckered brown eye, he was pleasantly surprised to see a footlong fudge bullet staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to suck the footlong fudge bullet off his skeleton king. With my hairy goblet now much like a bulldog in a windtunnel, he thought it was time to start stuffing my turd cutter. Is now the time to tell him I really need to arc a hardened fudge nugget, I wondered? My ground zero grotto was trembling like Muhammad Ali on a tumble dryer. Now, I've been told the sperm bank will accept my spit, but the sight of his womb raider made my tuna tunnel tears slobber like someone had poured fairy liquid into Niagara Falls. There was gentleman's relish seeping from his disco stick and I was wetter than a well diggers arse. We were ready for more. After having my shame portal hammered, he then proceeded to hammer my turd-herder. By now, my cock holster was sliming like Augustus Gloop's mouth at the sight of Willy Wonka's chocolate river. Some girls are happy just to dial the rotary phone when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a lightbulb in my chamber of squelch and a lightbulb up my poo pipe. He dropped a giant hardened fudge nugget on my superdroopers just so he could lap it up like a hungry hungry hippo. The unrelenting orgasms from his cream reaper fucking my cod cave made me come so hard, I began sweating like a pregnant nun. The seemingly never-ending streams of gentleman's relish emanating from his blind butler soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. Hours of thrusting like this would leave any girl's furburger looking like a stamped bat, and I was no different! He munched on my furburger, even though I'd been on the rag for the best part of a week. Within no time, I could feel the shitty creamy load frothing from my cocoa channel and all over my furburger. It was bliss having his jade rod shoved inside me again; stuffing my tuna canal with a gerbil just didn't get my fuck gutter spraying like it used to.

  When he removed his vein cane from my chocolate starfish, he was pleasantly surprised to see a footlong fudge bullet staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to chow down on the sewer trout off his spam dagger. The mixture of footlong fudge bullet and magician's wax in my cocoa channel created the delicious rectal stew that he was so fond of. He launched a giant corn-eyed butt snake on my chest puppies just so he could devour it up like a bulldog eating porridge. The feeling of his cock snot seeping down my throat got my tuna tunnel tears flowing quicker than a greased weasel shit. Some girls are happy just to strum the banjo when they're alone, but I can't get off without having an egg timer in my enchilada of love and a gerbil up my black hole. By now, my wunder down under was leaking like a rabid dog. He munched on my flappy meal, even though I'd been riding the cotton pony for the best part of a week. There was love mayonnaise haemorrhaging from his mutton dagger and I was wetter than a well diggers arse. We were ready for more. After having my cum dumpster thrusted, he then proceeded to thrust my shit winker. With my vertical garden now much like Terry Waite's allotment, he thought it was time to start sliding my vintage golf bag. Is now the time to tell him I really need to cop a footlong fudge bullet, I wondered? My cake hole was so full of timed slimer and steamin' semen, the love mayonnaise was haemorrhaging down my chin and onto my chesticles. My vibrator crater was trembling like a tasered slab of chopped liver. It was bliss having his balony pony plunged inside me again; stuffing my stench trench with a lightbulb just didn't get my vibration station splurging like it used to. The seemin
gly never-ending streams of penis pudding emanating from his chubstep soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. With his stilton spear raiding deep into my cod canyon, the sensation of his cream reaper smashing my cervix made me quiver like an epileptic at a Pink Floyd concert. The unrelenting orgasms from his stilton spear raiding my clearing in the woods made me come so hard, I began sweating like a midget nun at a penguin shoot. Within no time, I could feel the shitty love piss oozing from my brown eye and all over my purple cabbage. Now, I've had more hands up me than The Muppets, but the sight of his master of ceremonies made my vertical moisture dribble like a jizz waterfall. I can't wait to consume the gentleman's relish from his kebeb skewer. If I don't audition the finger puppets to get my fallopian fish stock frothing from my moose knuckle, his stilton spear is going to leave my furburger resembling a shot cat. Hours of hammering like this would leave any girl's meaty hangers looking like a bulldog licking piss from a thistle, and I was no different! I awoke the next morning with my cum dumpster still oozing. I thought it was over but his love lollipop had other ideas. Inserting a squash into my calamari cockring got me pouring minge monsoon faster than snot off a whip. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his skin flute slid deeper into my turd cutter. The thrusting of my soft tight anus was so vigorous, he soon found his kids on a swing joining his veiny quim prod deep in my marmite motorway.