BigJimsWornOutTires
Fire
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The call box of her building displays her name - Bertha MacCrackles - my inner gut warns me not to press that button, but ugh, my penis forces me to. I tap it. Despite my testicles, I visualize her greeting: Yes, I want penis, come up.
But boogers, its not the greeting I was expecting. "Who this be?" A female voice from the box cadences.
"Ugh. It's...um...Penis." I reply. But there's no answer. As if the box broke. Ugh. I walk away, never looking back again.
Later that night...KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK. I creep to the door and take a peek through its asshole. Ugh. It's her. I unlock the hatch and open the door.
"You be come by earlier, I be all sleep and shit. So wha-what chu be wanting?" She asks as I observe this exotic creature. 4 foot 9 inches—three hundred pounds of love juice.
I quickly and conspicuously reposition my package, making sure she regards it. And she does. "Sheeit. I see what's up! Aight." she says as she invites herself inside.
"Ugh. Do you care to drain my ballsack?" I announce, watching her step into the living room.
"Aight-aight, this I can do." Emphasizes 'do.' Such beauty as I observe her pulling the draws from the crack of her ass as she browses my burrow. "But it gonna cost you!"
Ugh. Why must everything be about money? "How much?" I ask.
"Sheeit. For you," takes notice of my physique and moves closer, looking at the apparent contour of my shaft hanging along my leg, but something else catches her attention. "I ain't charge money. Yet some of that liquor over there can get my grits buttery for you."
"Ugh. So be it." I reach over to the counter and hand her the bottle.
She takes a swig.
"Mmmm," exhibits pleasure with a winced reaction to the content of the alcohol as she gasps. "That's what I'm talking bout!" Quickly, she unfastens the thick belt donned along her skirt waistband. She wiggles them off, the belt staying affixed to them. Then pulls her pearly silky drawers off.
Ugh. Such exotic imagery as I recognize. "Twirl like a ballerina." I insist.
"Aight, aight," Begins turning around, "I'm your huckleberry."
Behold such wonder. The multiple layers of skin fold overlapping one another. Then I see her hind. It's as if her belly is trying to consume her buttocks.
I draw the penis out. She hurries to it like a dog would do when you pour a bag of food onto the floor. Due to my height, she doesn't need to bend down or take a knee. It's available at her mouth position. She begins the sloppy eater blow job. Eh-blah-squ-blah-eh...
As this unfolds, I begin typing this story.
Now it's time to hit 'Post thread.'
But boogers, its not the greeting I was expecting. "Who this be?" A female voice from the box cadences.
"Ugh. It's...um...Penis." I reply. But there's no answer. As if the box broke. Ugh. I walk away, never looking back again.
Later that night...KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK. I creep to the door and take a peek through its asshole. Ugh. It's her. I unlock the hatch and open the door.
"You be come by earlier, I be all sleep and shit. So wha-what chu be wanting?" She asks as I observe this exotic creature. 4 foot 9 inches—three hundred pounds of love juice.
I quickly and conspicuously reposition my package, making sure she regards it. And she does. "Sheeit. I see what's up! Aight." she says as she invites herself inside.
"Ugh. Do you care to drain my ballsack?" I announce, watching her step into the living room.
"Aight-aight, this I can do." Emphasizes 'do.' Such beauty as I observe her pulling the draws from the crack of her ass as she browses my burrow. "But it gonna cost you!"
Ugh. Why must everything be about money? "How much?" I ask.
"Sheeit. For you," takes notice of my physique and moves closer, looking at the apparent contour of my shaft hanging along my leg, but something else catches her attention. "I ain't charge money. Yet some of that liquor over there can get my grits buttery for you."
"Ugh. So be it." I reach over to the counter and hand her the bottle.
She takes a swig.
"Mmmm," exhibits pleasure with a winced reaction to the content of the alcohol as she gasps. "That's what I'm talking bout!" Quickly, she unfastens the thick belt donned along her skirt waistband. She wiggles them off, the belt staying affixed to them. Then pulls her pearly silky drawers off.
Ugh. Such exotic imagery as I recognize. "Twirl like a ballerina." I insist.
"Aight, aight," Begins turning around, "I'm your huckleberry."
Behold such wonder. The multiple layers of skin fold overlapping one another. Then I see her hind. It's as if her belly is trying to consume her buttocks.
I draw the penis out. She hurries to it like a dog would do when you pour a bag of food onto the floor. Due to my height, she doesn't need to bend down or take a knee. It's available at her mouth position. She begins the sloppy eater blow job. Eh-blah-squ-blah-eh...
As this unfolds, I begin typing this story.
Now it's time to hit 'Post thread.'
