| Mar 16, 2007 @ 11:24 PM |
One Word Story |
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cc1980999
Posts: 558
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers
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| Mar 17, 2007 @ 3:40 AM |
One Word Story |
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cabl_guy
Posts: 841
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed
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| Mar 17, 2007 @ 2:50 PM |
One Word Story |
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sexybabe7777
Posts: 51
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep
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| Mar 17, 2007 @ 3:31 PM |
One Word Story |
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CrazyCraveman
Posts: 3,937
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within
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| Mar 17, 2007 @ 5:33 PM |
One Word Story |
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bandengor
Posts: 7,768
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits
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| Mar 24, 2007 @ 12:31 PM |
One Word Story |
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cc1980999
Posts: 558
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What
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| Apr 2, 2007 @ 2:26 PM |
One Word Story |
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bentonagoodtime
Posts: 11
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Posts: 564 One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the
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| Apr 3, 2007 @ 6:50 AM |
One Word Story |
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swyeter
Posts: 20,839
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the FUCK!"
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| Apr 13, 2007 @ 11:01 AM |
One Word Story |
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bandengor
Posts: 7,768
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the FUCK!" exclaimed
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| May 10, 2007 @ 7:46 PM |
One Word Story |
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bandengor
Posts: 7,768
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**** moves through the thread doing the chicken dance ****
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| May 11, 2007 @ 6:40 PM |
One Word Story |
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swyeter
Posts: 20,839
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the FUCK!" exclaimed the
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| May 15, 2007 @ 4:38 PM |
One Word Story |
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eastwindace
Posts: 9
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the FUCK!" exclaimed the veterinarian
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| May 16, 2007 @ 11:10 AM |
One Word Story |
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bandengor
Posts: 7,768
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the FUCK!" exclaimed the veterinarian. Running,
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| Jul 29, 2007 @ 10:04 AM |
One Word Story |
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bentan
Posts: 3,444
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the FUCK!" exclaimed the veterinarian. Running, he
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| Jul 29, 2007 @ 3:47 PM |
One Word Story |
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HollyHummy
Posts: 3,512
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the FUCK!" exclaimed the veterinarian. Running, he came
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| Jul 29, 2007 @ 6:20 PM |
One Word Story |
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bentan
Posts: 3,444
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the FUCK!" exclaimed the veterinarian. Running, he came rolling
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| Aug 14, 2007 @ 4:11 AM |
One Word Story |
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bandengor
Posts: 7,768
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the FUCK!" exclaimed the veterinarian. Running, he came rolling over
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| Aug 14, 2007 @ 4:25 AM |
One Word Story |
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swyeter
Posts: 20,839
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the FUCK!" exclaimed the veterinarian. Running, he came rolling over a
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| Aug 14, 2007 @ 4:57 AM |
One Word Story |
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bandengor
Posts: 7,768
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the FUCK!" exclaimed the veterinarian. Running, he came rolling over a greased
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| Aug 16, 2007 @ 2:35 PM |
One Word Story |
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swyeter
Posts: 20,839
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One night long ago, on a farm there were insatiable yet lusty farmhands. They eyed seven barmaids down from Sasketchewan, hoping for invitations to carouse with them. Being from Michigan nightclubs they donned cheese cloths instead and prayed for moisture between the dirty folds of latex. It could not possibly be oiled much more than they already are, so they decided they'd add two cups of butter (unsalted), that creamed nicely between the inner thighs of the damsels. These should inflame their testosterone-fueled libidos into new hope of someday debauching said barmaids.
The naughty farmhands then drank buttered-schnaps by moonlight and adjusted their equipment to fun mode, before swaggering down towards endless promises (while fondling perfectly protruding bewbies) even while furiously trying repeatedly to involve massive amounts of hormones without getting spooge under their fingernails. Looking earnestly uninhibited for sunflowers ready, willing, desperate, and blooming with sweet passion, our only choice was to forge nerves tingling from strangers fingertips, continue with gentle gyrations on muscular thighs, and lovely pressing breasts, eagerly awaiting the manipulations that rarely fail. Secretly, the barmaids wanted more raunchy barmaids to satisfy other carnal desires. But they couldn't find any willing, protagonistic, engorged, barmaids ripe with effervescent technology. Instead, uninterruped, they continued oiling their saddles, preparing salads, prepping hamsters, and succulent shrimp. However, everyone with breasts danced shamelessly, arrousing countless nearby sailors and bouncy bunnies.
When, suddenly, came the sparkling sound beckoning them henceforth to partake shamelessly of inhibitions and neurotic tendencies. Standing, they exposed walruses' (not sea-lions') enormous flippers slippery from penetrating lubed damsels, with smells that inflame from engorged nipples passionately withholding a wax penis upwards firm breasts enveloping a much needed ejaculation.
Eventually barmaids satisfy aroused patrons with hours of sucking and swallowing, enormous, erect and throbbing shafts. Unfortunately, sperm swam all together towards her feet while playing, lustfully, with gargantuan testicle molds.
Afterwards, everyone vomited convulsively as thick streams hurled skywards. Fortunately, umbrellas covering them shielded nicely from chocolate raindrops which spewed profanity.
"What fuckin' farmhand caused my sheep to shit watermelons!" screamed Farmer Fran. Fran looked spent as several barmaids gyrated spasmodically against her bumping their somewhat, sticky cantaloupes, bursting explosively into her open mouth. "How delicious these nymphomaniacs taste! Succulent orbs glistening, flavor oozing, and dripping jism from every orifice," she gasped swallowing immense amounts while using her vibrator. Fran shuddered:
- How could anyone possibly survive such an ordeal?
Later, her husband grabbed his enormous shaft teasing her mercilessly until her thighs quivered from excitement. The bulbous shape of her swollen, erected nipples pressed firmly against the head of his throbbing cock, while gerbils slowly tunneled destroying anal functions.
Meanwhile, the incredible and multitalented chambermaid masturbated publicly, displaying soaked labia stuffed with meticulously folded maxi-pads. Astonishingly, twelve miniature stallions furiously ravaged her favorite girlfriend's mare sending ripples of electricity coursing through quivering limbs. Everyone nearby masturbated ferociously watching intently through bloodshot eyeballs. Glasses filled before now were suddenly devoid. Ejaculate was dripping from their shriveled penises, pooling around strawberries providing ample flavor 4 future quenchings.
Sunlight flickered through partially shaded windows, which concealed many indecent acts still being enjoyed. Engorged mosquitos fed frantically, dripping wine dribbled erratically down, drenching bare buttocks, while fingers probed deep within armpits.
"What the FUCK!" exclaimed the veterinarian. Running, he came rolling over a greased pig
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