249: greg (bad erotica)

i buttressed my erect wiener against her public mound. public because she was a whore. she screeched a moan of excrement as i waggled my dong quickly back and forth across her … you know. her (whispers) clitoris. she was wetter than a dog after a crazy bath when i entered her, my wee wee a slip and slide only with more excitement and less grass stains when i end up sliding too far and hitting my head against the pavement at the end of the lawn. she whispered loudly, “PLEASE ENTER ME,” her breath hot and smelling like a mixture of old hot dogs and stinkbug smell, and i obliged like one of those goddamn true blood vampires. the ones that have sex. when i entered her it was so moist and chewy, like nougat that was left in a hot car, and she moaned too loud and i had to cover my ears just to keep my bonesies happy. i pushed mr. johnson all the way inside her until i felt her eardrums pop, and then, without any hesitation or real ability to stop, i came fucking buckets. i came so hard it felt like hiroshima in my nutsack, and she said kind of quickly “what the fuck” but then smiled politely as i withdrew my flesh saber and literal bucketloads of my ejaculate flowed from her hoo-ha like that scene in the shining, except instead of blood, it’s ejaculate. i collapsed onto the ground and quickly fell asleep while my fuck matron gathered her clothes and, i presume, took a shit on my chest, because when i woke up on the floor of my holiday inn hotel room, there was a shit on my chest, and i don’t own a dog. i loved her so much.