Some of you may know about my past and in particular some of the lines of work i used to be in. Across the 25 years i have been on this earth i have been a professional saddle sniffer, vagrant, stuntman, drug dealer to the stars, Justin Timberlake, deep sea diver, monkey trainer, roving hornsman and butt plug to Leslie Ash.
But today i would like to harp back to my days as a romance novelist. Some of you may have read this before and some not but either way be careful if you are reading it at work!!
The Car Park
Julie had never seen deep-throat but she was still interested in Mr Parsons’ proposal. She was only young but was very attracted to the older, wiser Mr Parsons. She couldn’t keep her eyes off the huge bulge in his trousers that seemed to get larger by the second. Mr Parsons licked his chapped lips and slowly undid the flies to his council issue trousers. Julie noticed that he was going commando and she could feel a tingling in her knickers that she knew would only lead to one thing… a tidal wave of hot and silky poontang spish. Julie bent down and grasped Mr Parsons’ huge length in both her hands. It looked well used and had a strange yet alluring odour. She cupped his balls, opened her mouth as wide as it would go and noshed down on his pink torpedo. The head of his massive cock banged rhythmically against her tonsils, she dribbled everywhere and made gagging noises like a cat coughing up a hairball; she was loving every minute of it.
Mr parsons pulled his cock out of Julie’s face and slapped her right round the chops. “You like that you stupid little whore bitch,” he slapped her again.
Julie couldn’t get enough of that shit, “more, more” she screamed. Mr parsons slapped her round the face repeatedly with his semi-erect schlong. It made a dull thudding noise like a wet fish being slapped against a public toilet wall.
Mr parsons picked Julie up and spun her round. He bent her over the bonnet of his 1989 metro and lifted her skirt. Looking around the deserted car park, he wondered how he had fallen on his feet like this. He was 58 years old, he had a 19 year old girl bent over his car in Budgens car park and was drunk out of his skull on blue nun!
After preparing his fingers with his own saliva, Mr Parsons stuck 2 of them in her tight, wet little otter’s pocket and stuck his dry thumb straight in her unwashed dirt box. Julie squealed with glee as Mr Parsons started pumping his hand in and out. It sounded like the noise of an empty ketchup bottle and echoed around the car park, audible for miles.
Before long, Parsons’ fingers were awash with Julie’s love glue. They looked like they had been passed over by a family of migrating snails and smelled like a dead goose; it was obvious that Julie was the dirty sort. Before long, Parsons’ two fingers were joined by a third, then a fourth. Julie let out a squeal as Parsons’ completed the quintet with his thumb. It was a prolonged squeal: a cocktail of excitement and pleasure, with a good measure of pain. Parsons’ began to ease slowly in and out of her oily baby-crevice. His pace quickened rapidly and soon enough it was like good old Russian pig-fisting.
By this time, Parsons’ cum-hose was throbbing betwixt his legs. He was hungry to probe her further. Tentatively at first, he rotated his inserted fist and pushed his fingers outwards into a circular formation, like one might make if holding a tennis racket. To a veritable scream of Julie’s surprise he rammed his full length between his palm and fingers, piercing her spammy-folds with his shag-hoof.
Unbeknown to the both of them, they were not the only degenerates out looking for action that evening. A full pack of Mongolian cluster-fuckers were at that very moment cruising up the high street in a silver Proton Persona.
‘we gettin’ ourselves a right good fucking tonights boys, yes’ cried Shankromin to his sweaty, unshaven, meat head, rabid, fuckwit brethrens that accompanied him in his clapped out, heap of shit stolen proton. ‘hell yeah’ screached Pigsniff, probably the most unsavoury of 5, sickenly dark, filthy, scum cunts that plauged the streets of the village that dare not speak its name! as they turned the corner into the carpark Parsons was almost elbow deep in young and willing julies now sopping wet, stinking wizard sleeve and was working up a lazy one with his other hand. Neither julie or parson seemed to be bothered by the company and continued, unphased. Parsons withdrew his hand from julies sodden snatch and wiped it roughly across her face, smearing here puterid cunt sludge all over her sweating, snarling face.
parsons couldn’t wait any more, he took a small run up and plunged his purple headed yogurt slinger deep inside her velvet tunnel of debauchery. ‘holy big cocked jesus christ’ screamed julie ‘fuck my stinking cunt you big dicked bastard’. parson thrusted hard with his hips and mate grunting noises like and agravated tennis player. he pulled violently at her hair and slapped he bare little white arse till it was red raw. By now they had attracted something of a crowd and it wasn’t just the mongolian cluster fuckers that looked on with stiffened cocks but the weekly meeting stroke piss up of the village W.I. had just kicked out of the local watering hole, ‘the gook and landmine’…… TO BE CONTINUED