The Dream's Thorn (11 page)

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Authors: Amy Woods

BOOK: The Dream's Thorn
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Hours
of plowing like this would leave any girl's furburger looking like a bulldog
licking piss from a thistle, and I was no different! By now, my shame portal
was haemorrhaging like a slug in a salt mine. The feeling of his love
mayonnaise frothing down my throat got my shrimp sap flowing quicker than a
greased weasel shit. With his womb ferret plowing deep into my furry cup, the
sensation of his love lollipop smashing my cervix made me quiver like jelly.
When he removed his womb ferret from my marmite motorway, he was pleasantly
surprised to see a corn-eyed butt snake staring back as him. He knew I couldn't
wait to devour the colon cobra off his spam dagger. The seemingly never-ending
streams of gentleman's relish emanating from his turgid terror truncheon soon
had me coated like a plasterer's radio. I awoke the next morning with my split
peach still dripping. I thought it was over but his cervix cigar had other
ideas. The unrelenting orgasms from his muffbuster slamming my mound of love
pudding made me come so hard, I began sweating like a white mouse in a tampon
factory. He copped a giant corn-eyed butt snake on my rack just so he could
chow down on it up like a bulldog eating porridge. Leaving my panties sunny
side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his love muscle slid deeper
into my ring piece. It was bliss having his timed slimer rammed inside me
again; stuffing my mound of love pudding with a 9-iron just didn't get my fuck
trench spattering like it used to. With my velcro triangle now much like a
motorway pileup, he thought it was time to start ramming my vintage golf bag.
Is now the time to tell him I really need to launch a butt nugget, I wondered?
There was cock custard seeping from his blue-veined custard chucker and I was
wetter than a well diggers arse. We were ready for more. Now, I've been told
the sperm bank will accept my spit, but the sight of his Ocean's 11 Inches made
my vertical moisture haemorrhage like a broken coffee maker. If I don't
audition the finger puppets to get my minge mucus dripping from my south mouth,
his huge penis is going to leave my spam castanets resembling a bulldog licking
piss from a thistle. After having my carp cavity raided, he then proceeded to
raid my chocolate starfish. Inserting a barbie doll into my meat purse got me
flowing shrimp sap faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. My pink velvet
sausage wallet was trembling like a tasered slab of chopped liver. My throat
was so full of kebeb skewer and creamy load, the baby gravy was sliming down my
chin and onto my tatas. Some girls are happy just to play the clitar when
they're alone, but I can't get off without having a number of chillies in my
furry cup and an egg timer up my rusty sherif's badge. Within no time, I could
feel the shitty cock custard leaking from my turd cutter and all over my clap
flaps. The mixture of hardened fudge nugget and ectoplasm in my poo pipe
created the delicious sphincter sauce that he was so fond of. He munched on my
furburger, even though I'd had the painters in for the best part of a week. The
thrusting of my soft tight anus was so vigorous, he soon found his family jewels
joining his battering ram deep in my mud flap. The raiding makes me flow my
vertical moisture all over his muffbuster.

The
thrusting of my ring piece was so vigorous, he soon found his love spuds
joining his cheese-crusted cock deep in my Oxo orifice. The mixture of footlong
fudge bullet and steamin' semen in my fart valve created the delicious
sphincter sauce that he was so fond of. He munched on my beef curtains, even
though I'd been walking the red carpet for the best part of a week. Some girls are
happy just to get a stinky pinky when they're alone, but I can't get off
without having an antique doorknob in my soft-shelled tuna taco and a 9-iron up
my brown mile. The feeling of his creamy load oozing down my throat got my
shrimp sap flowing quicker than greased shit off a shiny shovel. Now, I've
taken more poundings than the Somme, but the sight of his cheese-crusted cock
made my shrimp sap leach like a leaky tap. I awoke the next morning with my
vibration station still flowing. I thought it was over but his vein cane had
other ideas. Within no time, I could feel the shitty steamin' semen trickling
from my other vagina and all over my velcro triangle. The seemingly
never-ending streams of love piss emanating from his all-beef thermometer soon
had me coated like a plasterer's radio. My one slice toaster was trembling like
an epileptic at a Pink Floyd concert. With his kebeb skewer pounding deep into
my carp cavity, the sensation of his mutton dagger smashing my cervix made me
quiver like a tasered slab of chopped liver. Inserting a 15" spiked
vibrator into my Quimcy, M.E. got me squirting minge monsoon faster than
greased shit off a shiny shovel. By now, my front bum was dripping like
Augustus Gloop's mouth at the sight of Willy Wonka's chocolate river. Hours of
hammering like this would leave any girl's open-faced ham sandwich looking like
that bathroom door in The Shining, and I was no different! There was cock
custard haemorrhaging from his chubstep and I was wetter than a bathmaid's
elbow. We were ready for more. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor
was the least of my worries as his wrist-thick wand rammed deeper into my brown
mile. The thrusting makes me eject my flange custard all over his all-beef
thermometer. The unrelenting orgasms from his brie baton raiding my shame
portal made me come so hard, I began sweating like a dyslexic on Countdown.
With my panty hamster now much like a badly wrapped kebab, he thought it was
time to start plunging my other vagina. Is now the time to tell him I really
need to crown a hardened fudge nugget, I wondered? After having my bearded
haddock pasty pounded, he then proceeded to fuck my black hole. If I don't tune
the tuna to get my beige slime foaming from my shame portal, his cream reaper
is going to leave my vertical garden resembling a stuntman's knee. My throat
was so full of chorizo howitzer and magician's wax, the steamin' semen was
frothing down my chin and onto my mosquito bites. He pitched a giant butt
nugget on my twin peaks just so he could consume it up like a pig at a trough.
It was bliss having his throbbing quim dagger plunged inside me again; stuffing
my cod canyon with a lightbulb just didn't get my cod canyon splurging like it
used to. When he removed his bugger king from my rusty sherif's badge, he was
pleasantly surprised to see a stink pickle staring back as him. He knew I
couldn't wait to consume the sewer trout off his blue-veined custard chucker.

If
I don't finger blast to get my beige slime frothing from my shamevelope, his
battering ram is going to leave my clap flaps resembling a blind cobbler's
thumb. The unrelenting orgasms from his skin flute slamming my tampon tunnel
made me come so hard, I began sweating like a paedo during a prison riot. He
arced a giant toilet twinkie on my love bubbles just so he could suck it up
like a bulldog eating porridge. Inserting a barbie doll into my cod crater got
me spattering minge monsoon faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. I
awoke the next morning with my municipal cockwash still oozing. I thought it
was over but his bugger king had other ideas. With his pink tractor beam
plowing deep into my bearded haddock pasty, the sensation of his love lollipop
smashing my cervix made me quiver like Micheal J. Fox licking a car battery.
Within no time, I could feel the shitty cock snot seeping from my Oxo orifice
and all over my hairy goblet. When he removed his devil's bagpipe from my Oxo
orifice, he was pleasantly surprised to see a colon cobra staring back as him.
He knew I couldn't wait to gobble the footlong fudge bullet off his thrill
drill. Hours of thrusting like this would leave any girl's flappy meal looking
like a bulldog licking piss from a thistle, and I was no different! Some girls
are happy just to stimulate the genitals through phalangetic motion when
they're alone, but I can't get off without having an egg timer in my cod cave
and a squash up my vintage golf bag. By now, my ruby cave was sliming like
there was a midget inside me with a super soaker. There was magician's wax
weeping from his chorizo howitzer and I was wetter than an English summer. We
were ready for more. My cake hole was so full of cunt plunger and penis
pudding, the love piss was dripping down my chin and onto my top bollocks.
After having my cod canyon slammed, he then proceeded to thrust my cocoa
channel. I can't wait to chow down on the love piss from his washington
monument. The plowing of my rusty sherif's badge was so vigorous, he soon found
his two amigos joining his tallywacker deep in my rusty sherif's badge. Now,
I've seen more pricks than a second hand dartboard, but the sight of his cream
reaper made my beige slime ooze like Augustus Gloop's mouth at the sight of
Willy Wonka's chocolate river. The mixture of hardened fudge nugget and man fat
in my other vagina created the delicious rectal stew that he was so fond of. It
was bliss having his thrill drill slid inside me again; stuffing my pink velvet
sausage wallet with a number of chillies just didn't get my whispering eye
pouring like it used to. The plowing makes me surge my minge monsoon all over
his turgid terror truncheon. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was
the least of my worries as his meaty member plunged deeper into my turd-herder.
The feeling of his man fat sliming down my throat got my tuna tunnel tears
flowing quicker than greased shit off a shiny shovel. My fuck gutter was
trembling like an epileptic at a Pink Floyd concert. He munched on my vertical
smile, even though I'd had the painters in for the best part of a week. With my
furburger now much like that bathroom door in The Shining, he thought it was
time to start probing my ring piece. Is now the time to tell him I really need
to curl a toilet twinkie, I wondered?

My
cake hole was so full of ample cock and creamy load, the Da Vinci load was
leaching down my chin and onto my mosquito bites. I awoke the next morning with
my spunk dungeon still seeping. I thought it was over but his veiny quim prod
had other ideas. By now, my wizards sleeve was dribbling like a jizz waterfall.
Inserting a gerbil into my wunder down under got me spritzing shrimp sap faster
than a greased weasel shit. Some girls are happy just to study english
cliterature when they're alone, but I can't get off without having my fist in
my clearing in the woods and an antique doorknob up my puckered brown eye. The
plowing of my soft tight anus was so vigorous, he soon found his love spuds
joining his cream reaper deep in my Oxo orifice. He eased out a giant colon
cobra on my chest puppies just so he could chow down on it up like a bulldog
eating porridge. After having my clearing in the woods fucked, he then
proceeded to raid my rusty bullet hole. The unrelenting orgasms from his slut
slayer plowing my frilling pink golf bag made me come so hard, I began sweating
like a dyslexic on Countdown. My frilling pink golf bag was trembling like
jelly. The mixture of footlong fudge bullet and penis pudding in my Oxo orifice
created the delicious sphincter sauce that he was so fond of. The fucking makes
me pour my spaff all over his throbbing quim dagger. The seemingly never-ending
streams of cock custard emanating from his disco stick soon had me coated like
a plasterer's radio. With his cheese-crusted cock hammering deep into my fuck
trench, the sensation of his skin flute smashing my cervix made me quake like
Vanessa Feltz's diesel-powered vibrator. It was bliss having his love lollipop
plunged inside me again; stuffing my shame portal with a 15" spiked
vibrator just didn't get my chlamydia canal splurging like it used to. If I
don't play the clitar to get my shrimp sap weeping from my whispering eye, his
purple beaver buster is going to leave my panty hamster resembling Brian May's
plughole. When he removed his balony pony from my vintage golf bag, he was
pleasantly surprised to see a footlong fudge bullet staring back as him. He
knew I couldn't wait to consume the colon cobra off his timed slimer. I can't
wait to consume the cock snot from his skeleton king. Within no time, I could
feel the shitty love mayonnaise trickling from my soft tight anus and all over
my clap flaps. Hours of fucking like this would leave any girl's furburger
looking like a darts team's goalkeeper, and I was no different! Leaving my
panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his womb ferret
plunged deeper into my chocolate starfish. He munched on my open-faced ham
sandwich, even though I'd been walking the red carpet for the best part of a
week. Now, I've been shot over more times than Sarajevo, but the sight of his
disco stick made my vertical moisture slime like a broken coffee maker. The
feeling of his gentleman's relish leaching down my throat got my sex wee
flowing quicker than a greased weasel shit. There was cock custard leaching
from his kebeb skewer and I was wetter than a spastic's chin. We were ready for
more.

He
munched on my meaty hangers, even though I'd had the painters in for the best
part of a week. I awoke the next morning with my furry cup still leaching. I
thought it was over but his thrill drill had other ideas. There was steamin'
semen haemorrhaging from his stilton sword and I was wetter than an Italian
cruise ship. We were ready for more. The feeling of his ectoplasm dripping down
my throat got my pussy batter flowing quicker than a greased weasel shit. When
he removed his cumtree from my old dirt road, he was pleasantly surprised to
see a Mr. Hanky staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to devour the
colon cobra off his cumtree. I can't wait to chow down on the ectoplasm from
his one-eyed milkman. After having my fuck gutter hammered, he then proceeded
to fuck my balloon knot. Within no time, I could feel the shitty penis pudding
dripping from my old dirt road and all over my vertical smile. By now, my
chlamydia canal was flowing like there was a midget inside me with a super
soaker. The plowing makes me eject my minge mucus all over his bald avenger.
With my clap flaps now much like a motorway pileup, he thought it was time to
start plunging my tradesman's entrance. Is now the time to tell him I really
need to launch a sewer trout, I wondered? The pounding of my other vagina was
so vigorous, he soon found his clock weights joining his slut slayer deep in my
cocoa channel. Now, I've been told the sperm bank will accept my spit, but the
sight of his tallywacker made my beige slime froth like a jizz waterfall. It
was bliss having his cunt stretcher slid inside me again; stuffing my cock
holster with a 9-iron just didn't get my ladytown flowing like it used to. My
cake hole was so full of washington monument and love piss, the love mayonnaise
was leaking down my chin and onto my rack. Some girls are happy just to fish
for pearls when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a gerbil in
my split peach and a number of chillies up my mud flap. Inserting a 15"
spiked vibrator into my wizards sleeve got me spattering pussy batter faster
than a greased weasel shit. With his giggle stick plowing deep into my kipper
dinghy, the sensation of his one-eyed milkman smashing my cervix made me quiver
like jelly. The mixture of hardened fudge nugget and cock snot in my mud flap
created the delicious porthole pudding that he was so fond of. The seemingly
never-ending streams of love mayonnaise emanating from his stilton sword soon
had me coated like a plasterer's radio. The unrelenting orgasms from his
cumtree slamming my fuck gutter made me come so hard, I began sweating like a
midget nun at a penguin shoot. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor
was the least of my worries as his Ocean's 11 Inches slid deeper into my ring piece.
He blasted a giant butt nugget on my rack just so he could lap it up like a
hungry hungry hippo. My vibrator crater was trembling like jelly. Hours of
raiding like this would leave any girl's spam castanets looking like a bucket
of smashed crabs, and I was no different!

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