by Amy Woods
If I don't finger blast to get my sex wee haemorrhaging from my soft-shelled tuna taco, his battering ram is going to leave my meaty hangers resembling the south end of a badger going north. There was ectoplasm dripping from his eight inches of throbbing pink jesus and I was wetter than an otter's pocket. We were ready for more. He arced a giant hardened fudge nugget on my boobage just so he could consume it up like a hungry hungry hippo. With his jade rod slamming deep into my tuna canal, the sensation of his vein cane smashing my cervix made me quake like an epileptic at a Pink Floyd concert. Inserting a lightbulb into my front bum got me spouting minge mucus faster than snot off a whip. Hours of fucking like this would leave any girl's fishy flaps looking like a manatee in yoga pants, and I was no different! Within no time, I could feel the shitty gentleman's relish sliming from my cocoa channel and all over my piss flaps. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his washington monument shoved deeper into my fudge factory. With my furburger now much like the south end of a badger going north, he thought it was time to start shoving my turd cutter. Is now the time to tell him I really need to arc a hardened fudge nugget, I wondered? He munched on my panty hamster, even though I'd had the painters in for the best part of a week. My vibration station was trembling like a tasered slab of chopped liver. When he removed his thrill drill from my soft tight anus, he was pleasantly surprised to see a Mr. Hanky staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to lap the corn-eyed butt snake off his flesh gordon. My mouth was so full of chubstep and gentleman's relish, the cock custard was dribbling down my chin and onto my rack. The seemingly never-ending streams of love mayonnaise emanating from his skeleton king soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. Some girls are happy just to finger blast when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a number of chillies in my one slice toaster and a gerbil up my rusty bullet hole. The raiding makes me flood my pussy batter all over his ramrod. The feeling of his man fat haemorrhaging down my throat got my beige slime flowing quicker than a greased weasel shit. By now, my calamari cockring was dripping like a slavering dog. The unrelenting orgasms from his blind butler fucking my whispering eye made me come so hard, I began sweating like a midget nun at a penguin shoot. The mixture of toilet twinkie and penis pudding in my old dirt road created the delicious porthole pudding that he was so fond of. I can't wait to chow down on the cock snot from his chubstep. I awoke the next morning with my clunge pool still draining. I thought it was over but his wensleydale wand had other ideas. Now, I've been told the sperm bank will accept my spit, but the sight of his ramrod made my beige slime trickle like a rabid dog. The hammering of my rusty sherif's badge was so vigorous, he soon found his two amigos joining his devil's bagpipe deep in my other vagina. It was bliss having his skin flute stuffed inside me again; stuffing my sperm socket with an egg timer just didn't get my clunge pool spattering like it used to.
I awoke the next morning with my clearing in the woods still leaking. I thought it was over but his cream reaper had other ideas. He munched on my vertical smile, even though I'd been surfing the crimson tide for the best part of a week. After having my mound of love pudding thrusted, he then proceeded to slam my Mavis Fritter. My cod canyon was trembling like jelly. He blasted a giant hardened fudge nugget on my mammaries just so he could chow down on it up like a bulldog eating porridge. The raiding makes me spit my vertical moisture all over his cunt plunger. Some girls are happy just to flick the bean when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a squash in my chamber of squelch and a 9-iron up my old dirt road. When he removed his blind butler from my cocoa channel, he was pleasantly surprised to see a corn-eyed butt snake staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to gobble the sewer trout off his slut slayer. The unrelenting orgasms from his timed slimer slamming my south mouth made me come so hard, I began sweating like a fat slag in a disco. By now, my whispering eye was leaking like a slug in a salt mine. It was bliss having his throbbing quim dagger shoved inside me again; stuffing my clam-flavoured pothole with a 10 inch purple battery-operated monster just didn't get my stench trench splurging like it used to. If I don't play the clitar to get my beige slime trickling from my tampon tunnel, his mutton dagger is going to leave my panty hamster resembling a badly wrapped kebab. My throat was so full of thrill drill and creamy load, the ectoplasm was leaching down my chin and onto my love bubbles. The plowing of my puckered brown eye was so vigorous, he soon found his scroto baggins joining his bald avenger deep in my poo pipe. Now, I've seen more action than Helmand Province, but the sight of his brie baton made my clunge gunge leach like there was a midget inside me with a super soaker. The feeling of his cock custard oozing down my throat got my tuna tunnel tears flowing quicker than greased shit off a shiny shovel. I can't wait to suck the love mayonnaise from his all-beef thermometer. There was baby gravy slobbering from his bald avenger and I was wetter than an Italian cruise ship. We were ready for more. The mixture of hardened fudge nugget and penis pudding in my other vagina created the delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of. Hours of slamming like this would leave any girl's panty hamster looking like a werewolf with it's throat cut, and I was no different! The seemingly never-ending streams of love piss emanating from his greasy slimelight soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. With my fishy flaps now much like John Wayne's saddlebags, he thought it was time to start stuffing my ring piece. Is now the time to tell him I really need to extrude a Mr. Hanky, I wondered? Inserting my fist into my cod cave got me surging tuna tunnel tears faster than snot off a whip. Within no time, I could feel the shitty steamin' semen trickling from my Mavis Fritter and all over my panty hamster. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his veiny quim prod shoved deeper into my shit winker.