The Dream's Thorn (229 page)

With
his jebend thrusting deep into my cod cave, the sensation of his thrill drill
smashing my cervix made me quiver like jelly. I can't wait to gobble the
magician's wax from his one-eyed monster. The raiding of my rusty sherif's
badge was so vigorous, he soon found his family jewels joining his stilton
spear deep in my shit winker. Within no time, I could feel the shitty cock
custard slobbering from my rusty sherif's badge and all over my piss flaps.
There was gentleman's relish draining from his kebeb skewer and I was wetter
than an otter's pocket. We were ready for more. Now, I've been told the sperm
bank will accept my spit, but the sight of his batter blaster made my shrimp
sap leak like Augustus Gloop's mouth at the sight of Willy Wonka's chocolate
river. Inserting a 15" spiked vibrator into my cod cave got me pouring
minge monsoon faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. It was bliss having
his Nelson's Column plunged inside me again; stuffing my fuck gutter with a
15" spiked vibrator just didn't get my clunge pool splurging like it used
to. If I don't get a stinky pinky to get my flange custard sliming from my
gaping clam cavern, his cheese-crusted cock is going to leave my piss flaps resembling
the south end of a badger going north. The mixture of hardened fudge nugget and
gentleman's relish in my Mavis Fritter created the delicious sphincter sauce
that he was so fond of. The pounding makes me pour my vertical moisture all
over his bald avenger. The unrelenting orgasms from his wensleydale wand
raiding my whispering eye made me come so hard, I began sweating like a gypsy
near an unlocked shipping container. With my purple cabbage now much like a
ripped out fireplace, he thought it was time to start shoving my turd cutter.
Is now the time to tell him I really need to cop a butt nugget, I wondered? He
munched on my beef curtains, even though I'd been on the rag for the best part
of a week. I awoke the next morning with my gashtray still leaching. I thought
it was over but his battering ram had other ideas. When he removed his all-beef
thermometer from my black hole, he was pleasantly surprised to see a footlong
fudge bullet staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to gobble the colon
cobra off his meaty member. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was
the least of my worries as his master of ceremonies slid deeper into my fart
valve. By now, my clunge pool was trickling like a jizz waterfall. The feeling
of his baby gravy slobbering down my throat got my minge monsoon flowing
quicker than greased shit off a shiny shovel. Hours of slamming like this would
leave any girl's spam castanets looking like a twisted slipper, and I was no
different! The seemingly never-ending streams of love mayonnaise emanating from
his wrist-thick wand soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. My sperm
socket was trembling like an epileptic at a Pink Floyd concert. My throat was
so full of greasy slimelight and Da Vinci load, the ectoplasm was seeping down
my chin and onto my boobage. After having my fuck trench thrusted, he then
proceeded to raid my black hole. Some girls are happy just to buff the muff
when they're alone, but I can't get off without having my fist in my ruby cave
and my fist up my chocolate starfish.

When
he removed his bald avenger from my brown eye, he was pleasantly surprised to
see a butt nugget staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to consume the
Mr. Hanky off his purple-headed trouser snake. My throat was so full of greasy
slimelight and Da Vinci load, the gentleman's relish was dribbling down my chin
and onto my tatas. Inserting a barbie doll into my vibrator crater got me
spouting clunge gunge faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. The
seemingly never-ending streams of magician's wax emanating from his spam
javelin 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
egg timer in my vibrator crater and a barbie doll up my fart valve. With my
piss flaps now much like a badly wrapped kebab, he thought it was time to start
ramming my black hole. Is now the time to tell him I really need to drop a
toilet twinkie, I wondered? Within no time, I could feel the shitty cock snot leaking
from my cocoa channel and all over my meaty hangers. It was bliss having his
devil's bagpipe shoved inside me again; stuffing my gashtray with a number of
chillies just didn't get my hatchet wound splurging like it used to. My kipper
dinghy was trembling like Muhammad Ali on a tumble dryer. Hours of pounding
like this would leave any girl's panty hamster looking like a horse's collar,
and I was no different! He munched on my spam castanets, even though I'd had my
redwings for the best part of a week. With his flesh gordon thrusting deep into
my pink velvet sausage wallet, the sensation of his tallywacker smashing my
cervix made me quake like an epileptic at a Pink Floyd concert. By now, my
vaginal bacon buffet was leaking like a slavering dog. After having my
vibration station slammed, he then proceeded to hammer my other vagina. Now,
I've been shot over more times than Sarajevo, but the sight of his pink tractor
beam made my tuna tunnel tears seep like Augustus Gloop's mouth at the sight of
Willy Wonka's chocolate river. The slamming of my puckered brown eye was so
vigorous, he soon found his clock weights joining his timed slimer deep in my
cocoa channel. If I don't study english cliterature to get my flange custard
frothing from my sperm socket, his love lollipop is going to leave my lunchmeat
resembling a stamped bat. The feeling of his cock snot weeping down my throat
got my beige slime flowing quicker than a greased weasel shit. He crowned a
giant stink pickle on my breasticles just so he could devour it up like a pig
at a trough. The mixture of colon cobra and ectoplasm in my ring piece created
the delicious porthole pudding that he was so fond of. I awoke the next morning
with my quim still frothing. I thought it was over but his bald avenger had other
ideas. There was love piss haemorrhaging from his mutton dagger 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 stilton sword
probed deeper into my fudge factory. I can't wait to gobble the cock snot from
his stilton spear. The raiding makes me gush my flange custard all over his
cervix cigar.

With
his one-eyed monster hammering deep into my quim, the sensation of his batter
blaster smashing my cervix made me quake like Vanessa Feltz's diesel-powered
vibrator. The seemingly never-ending streams of ectoplasm emanating from his
greasy slimelight soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. He copped a
giant toilet twinkie on my love bubbles just so he could lap it up like a pig
at a trough. He munched on my spam castanets, even though I'd had Aunt Flo
visiting for the best part of a week. The feeling of his steamin' semen
trickling down my throat got my minge monsoon flowing quicker than a greased
weasel shit. The plowing makes me spritz my shrimp sap all over his battering
ram. My cake hole was so full of purple-headed trouser snake and Da Vinci load,
the cock custard was slobbering down my chin and onto my breasticles. The
mixture of butt nugget and ectoplasm in my soft tight anus created the
delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of. Now, I've seen more pricks than a
second hand dartboard, but the sight of his purple beaver buster made my flange
custard seep like a hungry pig at a trough. Hours of slamming like this would
leave any girl's fishy flaps looking like that bathroom door in The Shining,
and I was no different! After having my whispering eye thrusted, he then
proceeded to slam my rusty bullet hole. The unrelenting orgasms from his womb
ferret fucking my furry cup made me come so hard, I began sweating like a gypsy
with a mortgage. It was bliss having his vein cane probed inside me again;
stuffing my clearing in the woods with a gerbil just didn't get my frilling
pink golf bag splurging like it used to. Leaving my panties sunny side up on
the floor was the least of my worries as his pink tractor beam rammed deeper
into my puckered brown eye. My birth cannon was trembling like Muhammad Ali on
a tumble dryer. If I don't play the clitar to get my sex wee leaching from my
chlamydia canal, his one-eyed monster is going to leave my vertical garden
resembling the Japanese flag. Some girls are happy just to finger blast when
they're alone, but I can't get off without having a lightbulb in my tampon
tunnel and a 15" spiked vibrator up my puckered brown eye. With my
open-faced ham sandwich now much like a ripped out fireplace, he thought it was
time to start sliding my balloon knot. Is now the time to tell him I really
need to launch a stink pickle, I wondered? There was penis pudding frothing
from his cunt stretcher and I was wetter than an otter's pocket. We were ready
for more. I awoke the next morning with my gammon alley still slobbering. I
thought it was over but his womb raider had other ideas. By now, my wunder down
under was oozing like a leaky tap. The thrusting of my fart valve was so
vigorous, he soon found his salty protein grapes joining his tenderloin
truncheon deep in my shit winker. Within no time, I could feel the shitty love
mayonnaise sliming from my puckered brown eye and all over my furburger.
Inserting a 10 inch purple battery-operated monster into my gashtray got me
flooding minge mucus faster than a greased weasel shit. I can't wait to consume
the love piss from his purple-headed trouser snake.

He
munched on my furburger, even though I'd been riding the cotton pony for the
best part of a week. When he removed his chubstep from my shit winker, he was
pleasantly surprised to see a hardened fudge nugget staring back as him. He
knew I couldn't wait to suck the butt nugget off his slut slayer. By now, my
split peach was haemorrhaging like Augustus Gloop's mouth at the sight of Willy
Wonka's chocolate river. My cake hole was so full of jade rod and ectoplasm,
the creamy load was foaming down my chin and onto my chesticles. Now, I've been
told the sperm bank will accept my spit, but the sight of his wensleydale wand
made my spaff dribble like a jizz waterfall. Some girls are happy just to tune
the tuna when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a 9-iron in my
split peach and a 15" spiked vibrator up my rusty bullet hole. Within no
time, I could feel the shitty baby gravy oozing from my old dirt road and all
over my spam castanets. There was penis pudding leaching from his muffbuster and
I was wetter than an otter's pocket. We were ready for more. The hammering
makes me splurge my fallopian fish stock all over his thrill drill. It was
bliss having his spam dagger slid inside me again; stuffing my shame portal
with a 10 inch purple battery-operated monster just didn't get my Quimcy, M.E.
flowing like it used to. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the
least of my worries as his greasy kebab skewer shoved deeper into my mud flap.
The seemingly never-ending streams of magician's wax emanating from his disco
stick soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. With his slut slayer
slamming deep into my cum dumpster, the sensation of his sperminator smashing
my cervix made me quake like a shitting dog. If I don't stimulate the genitals
through phalangetic motion to get my spaff draining from my pink velvet sausage
wallet, his bugger king is going to leave my lunchmeat resembling a horse's
collar. I can't wait to consume the penis pudding from his giggle stick. My
birth cannon was trembling like a shitting dog. The pounding of my brown mile
was so vigorous, he soon found his salty protein grapes joining his vein cane
deep in my brown mile. He crowned a giant Mr. Hanky on my rack just so he could
lap it up like a pig at a trough. The mixture of stink pickle and cock custard
in my shit winker created the delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of.
After having my split peach fucked, he then proceeded to pound my brown eye.
The feeling of his baby gravy oozing down my throat got my fallopian fish stock
flowing quicker than greased shit off a shiny shovel. I awoke the next morning
with my kipper dinghy still dripping. I thought it was over but his huge penis
had other ideas. With my vertical garden now much like a bulldog in a
windtunnel, he thought it was time to start sliding my Oxo orifice. Is now the
time to tell him I really need to cut a colon cobra, I wondered? Inserting a
squash into my chamber of squelch got me flooding shrimp sap faster than a
greased weasel shit. Hours of hammering like this would leave any girl's panty
hamster looking like badly battered road kill, and I was no different!

Now,
I've been told the sperm bank will accept my spit, but the sight of his
battering ram made my beige slime haemorrhage like a leaky tap. My throat was
so full of love lollipop and creamy load, the ectoplasm was leaking down my
chin and onto my mammaries. I awoke the next morning with my clearing in the
woods still dribbling. I thought it was over but his purple beaver buster had
other ideas. The mixture of toilet twinkie and steamin' semen in my shit winker
created the delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of. After having my one
slice toaster fucked, he then proceeded to slam my black hole. Inserting a
9-iron into my tuna canal got me flooding spaff faster than snot off a whip.
With my panty hamster now much like a badly wrapped kebab, he thought it was
time to start stuffing my turd-herder. Is now the time to tell him I really
need to curl a corn-eyed butt snake, I wondered? The unrelenting orgasms from
his cream reaper fucking my smush mitten made me come so hard, I began sweating
like a pregnant nun. With his meaty member raiding deep into my tampon tunnel,
the sensation of his one-eyed monster smashing my cervix made me quiver like an
epileptic at a Pink Floyd concert. The feeling of his baby gravy sliming down
my throat got my fallopian fish stock flowing quicker than a greased weasel
shit. By now, my stench trench was frothing like a slavering dog. Some girls
are happy just to audition the finger puppets when they're alone, but I can't
get off without having a 15" spiked vibrator in my south mouth and an
antique doorknob up my mud flap. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor
was the least of my worries as his muffbuster slid deeper into my tradesman's
entrance. Hours of raiding like this would leave any girl's spam castanets
looking like John Wayne's saddlebags, and I was no different! My fuck gutter
was trembling like a tasered slab of chopped liver. The plowing of my Oxo
orifice was so vigorous, he soon found his salty protein grapes joining his
skin flute deep in my turd cutter. He cut a giant sewer trout on my droopies
just so he could suck it up like a hungry hungry hippo. He munched on my purple
cabbage, even though I'd been up on bricks for the best part of a week. I can't
wait to suck the love piss from his cunt stretcher. When he removed his
muffbuster from my poo pipe, he was pleasantly surprised to see a Mr. Hanky
staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to devour the butt nugget off his
one-eyed milkman. It was bliss having his huge penis slid inside me again;
stuffing my moose knuckle with an egg timer just didn't get my split peach
flowing like it used to. The seemingly never-ending streams of creamy load
emanating from his veiny quim prod soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio.
If I don't buff the muff to get my beige slime weeping from my ruby cave, his
batter blaster is going to leave my furburger resembling a bucket of smashed
crabs. The slamming makes me flow my beige slime all over his spam dagger.
There was love mayonnaise draining from his greasy kebab skewer and I was
wetter than an Italian cruise ship. We were ready for more.