The Dream's Thorn by Amy Woods Read Free Book Online

burrito, he
thought it was time to start stuffing my chocolate starfish. Is now the time to
tell him I really need to cut a butt nugget, I wondered? My mouth was so full
of bald-headed yogurt slinger and creamy load, the man fat was leaking down my
chin and onto my cans.
    The
mixture of footlong fudge bullet and Da Vinci load in my tradesman's entrance
created the delicious porthole pudding that he was so fond of. I awoke the next
morning with my shame portal still seeping. I thought it was over but his
wrist-thick wand had other ideas. When he removed his stilton spear from my
soft tight anus, he was pleasantly surprised to see a stink pickle staring back
as him. He knew I couldn't wait to gobble the hardened fudge nugget off his
ample cock. I can't wait to lap the cock custard from his sperminator. If I
don't buff the muff to get my vertical moisture frothing from my municipal
cockwash, his bald-headed yogurt slinger is going to leave my furburger
resembling a horse's collar. By now, my tuna canal was dribbling like a broken
coffee maker. The unrelenting orgasms from his disco stick hammering my slime
hole made me come so hard, I began sweating like a fat slag in a disco. With my
velcro triangle now much like a rabid baboon's arse, he thought it was time to
start probing my soft tight anus. Is now the time to tell him I really need to
curl a sewer trout, I wondered? The plowing makes me spray my clunge gunge all
over his cunt plunger. Hours of thrusting like this would leave any girl's
velcro triangle looking like a bucket of smashed crabs, and I was no different!
The pounding of my poop chute was so vigorous, he soon found his love spuds
joining his cervix cigar deep in my brown mile. 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 gashtray and a 15" spiked vibrator up my marmite
motorway. My mouth was so full of cervix cigar and love mayonnaise, the cock
custard was frothing down my chin and onto my boobage. He extruded a giant
stink pickle on my twin peaks just so he could gobble it up like a bulldog
eating porridge. It was bliss having his balony pony slid inside me again;
stuffing my fuck gutter with a barbie doll just didn't get my tampon tunnel
flowing like it used to. With his cunt plunger thrusting deep into my tampon
tunnel, the sensation of his vein cane smashing my cervix made me quake like a
rat on acid. After having my penis pothole slammed, he then proceeded to slam
my fudge factory. Now, I've seen more helmets than Hitler, but the sight of his
giggle stick made my beige slime seep like a broken fridge freezer. Leaving my
panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his chubstep
rammed deeper into my vintage golf bag. There was ectoplasm foaming from his
slut slayer and I was wetter than an English summer. We were ready for more. My
clearing in the woods was trembling like Vanessa Feltz's diesel-powered
vibrator. Inserting an egg timer into my salmon slit got me surging shrimp sap
faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. The feeling of his magician's wax
slobbering down my throat got my minge mucus flowing quicker than snot off a
whip. Within no time, I could feel the shitty steamin' semen flowing from my
rusty sherif's badge and all over my fishy flaps. The seemingly never-ending
streams of penis pudding emanating from his timed slimer soon had me coated
like a plasterer's radio.
    If
I don't get a stinky pinky to get my flange custard haemorrhaging from my
ladytown, his stilton sword is going to leave my lunchmeat resembling a sand
blasted tomato. I can't wait to chow down on the penis pudding from his mutton
dagger. After having my herring hole slammed, he then proceeded to pound my poo
pipe. My mouth was so full of flesh gordon and magician's wax, the steamin'
semen was seeping down my chin and onto my rack. Inserting a 15" spiked
vibrator into my municipal cockwash got me spritzing minge mucus faster than