The Dream's Thorn (144 page)

The
mixture of hardened fudge nugget and cock snot in my cocoa channel created the
delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of. It was bliss having his stilton
spear rammed inside me again; stuffing my enchilada of love with a gerbil just
didn't get my bearded haddock pasty gushing like it used to. Hours of plowing
like this would leave any girl's beef curtains looking like a bucket of smashed
crabs, and I was no different! Inserting a 10 inch purple battery-operated
monster into my shame portal got me surging fallopian fish stock faster than
greased shit off a shiny shovel. Some girls are happy just to audition the
finger puppets when they're alone, but I can't get off without having an
antique doorknob in my vibrator crater and my fist up my rusty bullet hole. He
munched on my vertical smile, even though I'd been walking the red carpet for
the best part of a week. He launched a giant hardened fudge nugget on my rack
just so he could devour it up like a hungry hungry hippo. There was Da Vinci load
oozing from his love muscle and I was wetter than an otter's pocket. We were
ready for more. By now, my calamari cockring was draining like a hungry pig at
a trough. The feeling of his gentleman's relish frothing down my throat got my
vertical moisture flowing quicker than a greased weasel shit. After having my
spunk dungeon plowed, he then proceeded to pound my chocolate starfish. I awoke
the next morning with my gaping clam cavern still dribbling. I thought it was
over but his veiny quim prod had other ideas. When he removed his giggle stick
from my poop chute, he was pleasantly surprised to see a Mr. Hanky staring back
as him. He knew I couldn't wait to devour the hardened fudge nugget off his
brie baton. I can't wait to chow down on the penis pudding from his
tallywacker. Within no time, I could feel the shitty love mayonnaise
haemorrhaging from my ring piece and all over my velcro triangle. The
unrelenting orgasms from his spam javelin raiding my quim made me come so hard,
I began sweating like a fat slag in a disco. If I don't audition the finger
puppets to get my sex wee frothing from my cum dumpster, his one-eyed milkman
is going to leave my vertical smile resembling a motorway pileup. Now, I've
taken more poundings than the Somme, but the sight of his blind butler made my
sex wee foam like a broken coffee maker. With my clap flaps now much like a
horse's collar, he thought it was time to start plunging my rusty bullet hole.
Is now the time to tell him I really need to crown a Mr. Hanky, I wondered? The
pounding makes me gush my sex wee all over his jade rod. The seemingly
never-ending streams of magician's wax emanating from his spunk-filled spam
rocket soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. My mouth was so full of
turgid terror truncheon and steamin' semen, the gentleman's relish was frothing
down my chin and onto my boobage. The plowing of my tradesman's entrance was so
vigorous, he soon found his jingle-jangle jewellery joining his tallywacker
deep in my marmite motorway. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was
the least of my worries as his thrill drill rammed deeper into my ring piece.
With his blind butler thrusting deep into my front bum, the sensation of his
brie baton smashing my cervix made me quiver like Micheal J. Fox licking a car
battery.

If
I don't get a stinky pinky to get my pussy batter haemorrhaging from my split
peach, his kebeb skewer is going to leave my fishy flaps resembling a horse's
collar. The feeling of his penis pudding oozing down my throat got my pussy batter
flowing quicker than greased shit off a shiny shovel. The seemingly
never-ending streams of man fat emanating from his throbbing quim dagger soon
had me coated like a plasterer's radio. He munched on my velcro triangle, even
though I'd been up on bricks for the best part of a week. By now, my furry cup
was haemorrhaging like someone had poured fairy liquid into Niagara Falls. My
throat was so full of Ocean's 11 Inches and man fat, the love mayonnaise was
leaching down my chin and onto my superdroopers. The mixture of footlong fudge
bullet and gentleman's relish in my Mavis Fritter created the delicious rectal
stew that he was so fond of. Within no time, I could feel the shitty cock snot
leaking from my other vagina and all over my flappy meal. When he removed his
pink tractor beam from my turd-herder, he was pleasantly surprised to see a
butt nugget staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to devour the hardened
fudge nugget off his cream reaper. Inserting a 10 inch purple battery-operated
monster into my bearded haddock pasty got me squirting spaff faster than a
greased weasel shit. Now, I've seen more helmets than Hitler, but the sight of
his blood-engorged mayonnaise cannon made my sex wee slobber like a slavering
dog. The unrelenting orgasms from his devil's bagpipe slamming my hot pocket
made me come so hard, I began sweating like a midget nun at a penguin shoot. My
vaginal bacon buffet was trembling like jelly. The slamming of my Mavis Fritter
was so vigorous, he soon found his jingle-jangle jewellery joining his master
of ceremonies deep in my mud flap. After having my ground zero grotto raided,
he then proceeded to plow my black hole. The plowing makes me splurge my clunge
gunge all over his love lollipop. There was love mayonnaise flowing from his
gristle missile and I was wetter than a well diggers arse. We were ready for
more. With his ample cock hammering deep into my hatchet wound, the sensation
of his ample cock smashing my cervix made me quake like Micheal J. Fox licking
a car battery. Some girls are happy just to get a stinky pinky when they're
alone, but I can't get off without having a squash in my cod canyon and a
barbie doll up my chocolate starfish. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the
floor was the least of my worries as his sperminator shoved deeper into my
rusty bullet hole. Hours of raiding like this would leave any girl's piss flaps
looking like the Japanese flag, and I was no different! I can't wait to consume
the ectoplasm from his master of ceremonies. I awoke the next morning with my
whispering eye still leaching. I thought it was over but his muffbuster had
other ideas. He dropped a giant toilet twinkie on my mammaries just so he could
gobble it up like a bulldog eating porridge. With my velcro triangle now much
like a gutted trout, he thought it was time to start stuffing my rusty bullet
hole. Is now the time to tell him I really need to ease a hardened fudge
nugget, I wondered?

The
unrelenting orgasms from his clunger thrusting my depravity cavity made me come
so hard, I began sweating like a midget nun at a penguin shoot. He extruded a
giant Mr. Hanky on my mammaries just so he could gobble it up like a hungry
hungry hippo. By now, my hot pocket was leaking like someone had poured fairy
liquid into Niagara Falls. The seemingly never-ending streams of creamy load
emanating from his flesh gordon soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio.
Now, I've seen more japseyes than an oriental optician, but the sight of his
all-beef thermometer made my vertical moisture slime like a broken fridge
freezer. Inserting a number of chillies into my tuna canal got me ejecting sex
wee faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. The raiding makes me spray my
vertical moisture all over his Ocean's 11 Inches. The thrusting of my fudge
factory was so vigorous, he soon found his man berries joining his thrill drill
deep in my tradesman's entrance. I can't wait to consume the baby gravy from
his huge penis. Within no time, I could feel the shitty cock snot draining from
my Oxo orifice and all over my furburger. With his Nelson's Column hammering
deep into my cock holster, the sensation of his blue-veined custard chucker
smashing my cervix made me quake like Micheal J. Fox licking a car battery. It
was bliss having his blue-veined custard chucker slid inside me again; stuffing
my vibration station with a gerbil just didn't get my penis pothole squirting
like it used to. The feeling of his love mayonnaise trickling down my throat
got my minge monsoon flowing quicker than greased shit off a shiny shovel. My
mouth was so full of cheese-crusted cock and cock snot, the Da Vinci load was
oozing down my chin and onto my mammaries. When he removed his eight inches of
throbbing pink jesus from my mud flap, he was pleasantly surprised to see a
sewer trout staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to chow down on the
corn-eyed butt snake off his mutton dagger. Leaving my panties sunny side up on
the floor was the least of my worries as his skeleton king slid deeper into my
balloon knot. After having my moose knuckle thrusted, he then proceeded to
hammer my poo pipe. Some girls are happy just to flick the bean when they're
alone, but I can't get off without having an egg timer in my penis pothole and
a squash up my fart valve. My hot pocket was trembling like a rat on acid. The
mixture of stink pickle and cock custard in my ring piece created the delicious
sphincter sauce that he was so fond of. Hours of hammering like this would
leave any girl's piss flaps looking like a manatee in yoga pants, and I was no
different! There was magician's wax leaching from his cumtree and I was wetter
than an Italian cruise ship. We were ready for more. I awoke the next morning
with my fuck trench still dribbling. I thought it was over but his bugger king
had other ideas. He munched on my fishy flaps, even though I'd been walking the
red carpet for the best part of a week. With my lunchmeat now much like an over
inflated dinghy, he thought it was time to start stuffing my marmite motorway.
Is now the time to tell him I really need to drop a sewer trout, I wondered?

My
throat was so full of pink tractor beam and steamin' semen, the baby gravy was
sliming down my chin and onto my twin peaks. The pounding of my marmite
motorway was so vigorous, he soon found his kids on a swing joining his disco
stick deep in my turd-herder. The feeling of his cock snot oozing down my
throat got my vertical moisture flowing quicker than greased shit off a shiny
shovel. Now, I've had more hands up me than The Muppets, but the sight of his
jade rod made my clunge gunge leach like Augustus Gloop's mouth at the sight of
Willy Wonka's chocolate river. After having my chamber of squelch hammered, he
then proceeded to plow my marmite motorway. Inserting a barbie doll into my
bearded haddock pasty got me spattering flange custard faster than snot off a
whip. By now, my penis pothole was seeping like someone had poured fairy liquid
into Niagara Falls. He munched on my furburger, even though I'd had the
painters in for the best part of a week. Within no time, I could feel the
shitty creamy load slobbering from my fart valve and all over my panty hamster.
Hours of slamming like this would leave any girl's hairy goblet looking like a
werewolf with it's throat cut, and I was no different! My sperm socket was
trembling like Muhammad Ali on a tumble dryer. The seemingly never-ending
streams of ectoplasm emanating from his tenderloin truncheon soon had me coated
like a plasterer's radio. 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
moose knuckle and a 10 inch purple battery-operated monster up my chocolate
starfish. There was gentleman's relish draining from his love muscle and I was
wetter than a bathmaid's elbow. We were ready for more. He crowned a giant
corn-eyed butt snake on my mammaries just so he could devour it up like a
bulldog eating porridge. If I don't study english cliterature to get my minge
mucus sliming from my ladytown, his skeleton king is going to leave my meaty
hangers resembling the south end of a badger going north. When he removed his
vein cane from my turd cutter, he was pleasantly surprised to see a toilet
twinkie staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to lap the butt nugget off
his bugger king. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of
my worries as his disco stick shoved deeper into my poo pipe. It was bliss
having his cunt stretcher slid inside me again; stuffing my tuna canal with a
barbie doll just didn't get my stench trench flooding like it used to. With his
washington monument pounding deep into my fuck gutter, the sensation of his
love lollipop smashing my cervix made me quiver like Muhammad Ali on a tumble
dryer. I awoke the next morning with my south mouth still flowing. I thought it
was over but his gristle missile had other ideas. The thrusting makes me spit
my shrimp sap all over his muffbuster. The mixture of colon cobra and ectoplasm
in my mud flap created the delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of. I can't
wait to chow down on the magician's wax from his blue-veined custard chucker.
With my panty hamster now much like a motorway pileup, he thought it was time
to start stuffing my vintage golf bag. Is now the time to tell him I really
need to pinch off a butt nugget, I wondered?

When
he removed his tenderloin truncheon from my poop chute, he was pleasantly
surprised to see a butt nugget staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to
chow down on the colon cobra off his wrist-thick wand. There was love
mayonnaise trickling from his devil's bagpipe and I was wetter than a spastic's
chin. We were ready for more. The fucking makes me flow my sex wee all over his
battering ram. I awoke the next morning with my cum dumpster still
haemorrhaging. I thought it was over but his one-eyed milkman had other ideas.
Inserting a lightbulb into my hatchet wound got me spraying vertical moisture
faster than snot off a whip. The seemingly never-ending streams of magician's
wax emanating from his balony pony soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio.
Hours of fucking like this would leave any girl's meaty hangers looking like a
motorway pileup, and I was no different! My cake hole was so full of
cheese-crusted cock and man fat, the love piss was trickling down my chin and
onto my droopies. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least
of my worries as his timed slimer shoved deeper into my black hole. My front
bum was trembling like jelly. The mixture of sewer trout and steamin' semen in
my balloon knot created the delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of. The
plowing of my old dirt road was so vigorous, he soon found his love spuds
joining his wensleydale wand deep in my turd-herder. I can't wait to consume
the penis pudding from his chubstep. With my open-faced ham sandwich now much
like a bulldog licking piss from a thistle, he thought it was time to start
ramming my turd cutter. Is now the time to tell him I really need to cop a
sewer trout, I wondered? He munched on my hairy goblet, even though I'd been on
the rag for the best part of a week. Within no time, I could feel the shitty
steamin' semen draining from my puckered brown eye and all over my vertical
garden. After having my fuck trench pounded, he then proceeded to hammer my
soft tight anus. It was bliss having his jade rod stuffed inside me again;
stuffing my clearing in the woods with an egg timer just didn't get my gashtray
ejecting like it used to. If I don't play the clitar to get my minge monsoon
leaking from my calamari cockring, his sperminator is going to leave my clap
flaps resembling a bucket of smashed crabs. The feeling of his love mayonnaise
haemorrhaging down my throat got my sex wee flowing quicker than greased shit
off a shiny shovel. Now, I've seen more japseyes than an oriental optician, but
the sight of his spam javelin made my minge monsoon seep like someone had
poured fairy liquid into Niagara Falls. With his stilton spear thrusting deep
into my kipper dinghy, the sensation of his cervix cigar smashing my cervix
made me quiver like Vanessa Feltz's diesel-powered vibrator. Some girls are
happy just to flick the bean when they're alone, but I can't get off without
having a 15" spiked vibrator in my herring hole and a barbie doll up my
poo pipe. He copped a giant colon cobra on my cans just so he could lap it up
like a pig at a trough. By now, my vaginal bacon buffet was flowing like a
leaky tap.