The Dream's Thorn by Amy Woods Page B

can't wait to devour the love
mayonnaise from his disco stick. There was love mayonnaise weeping from his
long-dong silver and I was wetter than an otter's pocket. We were ready for
more. The feeling of his love mayonnaise foaming down my throat got my flange
custard flowing quicker than snot off a whip. He munched on my lunchmeat, even
though I'd had Aunt Flo visiting for the best part of a week. When he removed
his gristle missile from my shit winker, he was pleasantly surprised to see a
footlong fudge bullet staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to chow down
on the Mr. Hanky off his cream reaper. The mixture of butt nugget and Da Vinci
load in my tradesman's entrance created the delicious rectal stew that he was
so fond of. He crowned a giant Mr. Hanky on my love bubbles just so he could
gobble it up like a bulldog eating porridge. Inserting a number of chillies
into my fuck trench got me gushing flange custard faster than greased shit off
a shiny shovel.
    The
pounding of my tradesman's entrance was so vigorous, he soon found his man
berries joining his sperminator deep in my chocolate starfish. Leaving my
panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his spam
javelin plunged deeper into my shit winker. He launched a giant butt nugget on
my mosquito bites just so he could chow down on it up like a bulldog eating
porridge. I awoke the next morning with my shame portal still haemorrhaging. I
thought it was over but his skin flute had other ideas. The mixture of hardened
fudge nugget and gentleman's relish in my soft tight anus created the delicious
rectal stew that he was so fond of. I can't wait to suck the love mayonnaise
from his jebend. After having my herring hole pounded, he then proceeded to
raid my poop chute. Inserting a gerbil into my clunge pool got me surging tuna
tunnel tears faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. The feeling of his
cock snot slobbering down my throat got my vertical moisture flowing quicker
than snot off a whip. With my fishy flaps now much like a ripped out fireplace,
he thought it was time to start probing my tradesman's entrance. Is now the
time to tell him I really need to roll a toilet twinkie, I wondered? Within no time,
I could feel the shitty man fat dribbling from my fudge factory and all over my
vertical garden. My mouth was so full of timed slimer and cock custard, the
steamin' semen was flowing down my chin and onto my chest puppies. Hours of
hammering like this would leave any girl's lunchmeat looking like a blind
cobbler's thumb, and I was no different! Now, I've taken more poundings than
the Somme, but the sight of his womb ferret made my tuna tunnel tears flow like
Augustus Gloop's mouth at the sight of Willy Wonka's chocolate river. It was
bliss having his skin flute plunged inside me again; stuffing my south mouth
with an egg timer just didn't get my tampon tunnel pouring like it used to. He
munched on my furburger, even though I'd had Aunt Flo visiting for the best
part of a week. The seemingly never-ending streams of ectoplasm emanating from
his master of ceremonies soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. My cum
dumpster was trembling like Vanessa Feltz's diesel-powered vibrator. With his
jade rod plowing deep into my cock holster, the sensation of his stilton spear
smashing my cervix made me quake like Micheal J. Fox licking a car battery. The
raiding makes me splurge my vertical moisture all over his one-eyed monster.
There was Da Vinci load slobbering from his brie baton and I was wetter than a
well diggers arse. We were ready for more. The unrelenting orgasms from his
greasy kebab skewer plowing my wizards sleeve made me come so hard, I began
sweating like a blind lesbian in a fish shop. Some girls are happy just to
study english cliterature when they're alone, but I can't get off without
having a 9-iron in my mound of love pudding and a barbie doll up my soft tight
anus. If I don't get a stinky pinky to get my minge monsoon draining