Sex and The Suburbs 8: Mermaid Fantasy

"You look sexy when your not wearing anything" she said under her fish sauce breathe. I gobbled up the remaining fish bones before mounting her. A lexicon flapping with  more noises than words made up our next few breathes. She wore her fish stockings like a mermaid whore! She told me to call her 'mermaid whore urogenital tract opening' when we were in the heat of our unnatural passion. Her mermaid impersonation was so damn convincing it was like I was fucking a fish! We had both agreed on a fish themed night of sexy time. I knew exactly how Jemaine felt when it was 'business time' in my case wholesale fish trade of sexy time...aw yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh



If there is one thing you need to know about a women named Ashamed that dressed as a dirty mermaid whore is that she don't do second best. She was human above the waist and fish below where she stuffed her vagina with eels, tuna and hagfish, to give it extra authenticity. She was a real artist! The weight of my cock crushed fish heads and Ashamed licked and kissed many schools of fish so I could taste fish not only when I went down on her but as well when eating the face off her like her face was a fish cake full of sex, fish and flour.

I renamed my bedroom the Coral Reefs,with a sign on my door that said 'Oh yeah Babe you can fertilize your eggs in here anytime'. My girlfriend was a real artist, she got Sex Reassignment Surgery, but with a twist, she wanted the sex organs of a sexy fish. We researched for days what fish had the sexiest sex organs. Our fishsexuality had consumed us so wholly that I gave up my job and we went to the sea. We had not yet the ability to live underwater, so we decided to live on the beach until this technology was invented.

One night when we were asleep under the tiny stars, an angel appeared to me,and spoke the following words:

Love is patient; love is kind
and envies no one.
Love is never boastful, nor conceited, nor rude;
never selfish, not quick to take offense.
There is nothing love cannot face;
there is no limit to its faith,
its hope, and endurance.
In a word, there are three things
that last forever: faith, hope, and love;
but the greatest of them all is love.

I don't know I think it was from an ABBA song or something that the angel was quoting. But I knew what the angel meant, I gave the angel a high-five before it departed. Then I rolled Ashamed still asleep down to the edge of the sea. I looked out at the mighty waves, I saw her loving face, I knew that she would want this. The angel was a miracle enough, so I thought if I let the sea take her, she would turn into a mermaid for reals! What a miracle that would be.

For the next few nights I heard nothing, she had still not returned from the sea, I started to feel slightly dispirited, but I just thought of the miracle of the angel and that gave me the strength to believe and keep waiting. Then a few weeks later, on the shore, I saw her body, it was full of seaweed, bites, and her skin was as grey as an old person's hair. I was in tears 'Oh angel why have you forsaken me!' I wept and wept, and then I saw it at the side of my eye, something buried under the sand, there is often sandstorms here. What I uncovered was the angel I saw, all cardboard and glossy ink....it was a fucking billboard advertisement. I was so furious that I fucked the dead mermaid's carcass until my penis was bleeding, and I kept screaming when the pain got too much to bear 'You deserve it, you deserve, look what you have done, to those you love!' with every thrust into her grey and decayed ass, I knew nothing would ever be the same again.

Sex and The Suburbs 7: Madrid (Carnicero Me Como Un Condón Roto)

Condoms in the slaughterhouse, wiggling about like ringworm in a hot women's intestines. The warmth of her breast rising to a tingle in the boiling throbbing cock. The red light district was now the white light district, cum covered street. If you stray from the main streets,  ladies gave men blow jobs in the narrowest of back streets, young mischief makers threw water-balloons, wetting the tops of hot girls and embarrasing men with urine patches on their pants. These were the days of glorious excess or as my Hispanic friend  Anton would joke 'Estos fueron los días gloriosos de sexo violento.' 

Wandering down this sex crazed boulevard, part economic, part the maniacs of the world unleashed, the sweat of bodies in sodomy created a glossy finish to brown pools of mud where condoms and mutant tadpole swam about.

The statue of Lucifer's beautiful body in Madrid Park was stained in blood by 16 year old girls, who pooled their periods for the special occasion. I was lucky enough to get some splashed on me. I breathe in the full moon hungerlusthoney buttocks, caressing such beautiful creatures, as jungles sprung in the moonlit lake, as couples, unbeknown to them were watched by the black snorkelers, who were about to capsize their boat and rape and drown them at the bottom of the lake, while they whispered in their thankless vicitims cold ears 'ever been fucked by a nigger at the bottom of a lake'. When they were finished they would go back to selling drugs. How do I know so many details? Because I enrolled in project sodomy, are as it is in its original: proyecto de sodomía! Why? Because I was bored.

Tall men with shades of purple lip gloss and their cocks painted shades of burgundy, ritually stuck their painted penis' out of their shorts,  hoped to catch the passing sluts eye. The girls who knew, knew that their purple lip gloss and burgundy penis' meant they were into certain things, such as bagpiping.  If they are not sluts then they are most likely steer clear of this particular  hill, which a number of years ago was a place where people would come to sell second hand books, vinyl etcetera. Times had changed this hill. It lay only a footstep or two from the park. Some skateboards dared each other to ride down the hill without getting raped by the ravenous perverts that pollute each side all the way down without a break. It is exhausting just look at them, some with their tongues out with lizards on their shoulders, others just staring into the concrete like they had some life decisions to make. One of them cheered by the other boys, goes, the  skateboard's fragile wheels clatter, spins, his body falls to three vagrants who arre not interesting in sexing him. They simply strip him naked with the clunky movement of a tin of biscuits if a tin of biscuits had limps. They then leave the boy for the molestation of the elderly ladies that pay top doller for their position on the hill. They giglee, their eyes lighting up and pushing their wrinkles into groves that one could see from space. I can hear the boy choke and gag, when one of the women inserts her Alexander The Great sized Dildo into his small potty mouth, his eyes are welled with tears, then blood as one of the old women, with a wicked Belfast laugh, gauges his eyes out with her fingers, laughing, it seems this youth now tainted gives her old fart heart some sick joy, it kind of give me a hard on, I know it should't but it does, my penis cannot lie about its desire, its got a chord to the escatsy in my brain which is released and spreads out througout my body, sending me into seizures of joy, I feel like I could die happy at any moment in these jolts.

The surgeon prises open my shirt's buttons, gets to my chest, pounds on it, on awakening from the drugs I got from the Afreican dudes at the periphery of the park I realise I am in some kind of shelter, the man robed in white decor, leaps on me, starts beating on my chest, I cannot scream, or tell him to stop, I cannot move, my eyes see it all, but I am helpless...after a while it stops and he jizzes all over my chest, some of it leaps onto my ear, I can still feel but not move, the cum is burning near my ear drum. He then says something about not paying full prize because I didn't look 'en él lo suficiente', a man who before I did not see appears from some other part of the room, he is Indian, and he looks worried,he wipes his brow 'But do you know it is very difficult for us to procure someone of this nationality, you must not expect us to accept any less then what was agreed' He then looks into my eyes, this all feels very strange, he looks away, takes money out, pays, leaves. What now I think? will I ever be able to move again, I am resigned to my ungodly fate.

After two nights of getting buggered in every position imaginable, I start to move again, they tell me, that I must leave quickly or they will 'carnicero me como un condón roto', I guess the police or something must have caught on, they throw me out the back, I have just some very tight underwear, so tight my penis bulges, I spot a schoolgirl, I realise we are beside a school, ah the order of things, the order of things indeed. I feel so depraved, so horny, just to have sex with something pretty, for me to be having sex not getting raped,that would be good. I look at her with rapacious eyes, she hurries out of view, I wonder if she saw my bulging cock and thought about, the thought about her thinking of my bulging cock makes me harden...I go back to my apartment, the heat is penetrating my body, I masturbate furiously to the image of the scared schoolgirl, I feel like my cock is about to pop off at any second.

Sex in the Suburbs 6: Girls Of My Dreams Part 2 (Enter the Friday)

It's late at night, it's late at night, it's Friday yeah Friday Friday Friday... the girl of my dreams, the girl on the billboard is far from me now, when I stare at period blood stain on the wall, all I can think of is cancer, down an alley running at me, anally penetrating me till my brains are an afterglow of burning red traffic light , siphoning the moonlight with red blotches of karma.

I pick up some meds on the way, my sister is in a good mood so she gives me a lot of them, she tells me the kids now call these things by nicknames such as school kippers and fruit horses. I get lucky with a girl who is hanging out outside the putrid Supermacs. She burbs into my tongue when I try French kiss her. The wear and tear of the night has pushed her red lipstick to her chin and all the way up to the North Pole of her forehead. Making her look like a clown who is wearing a reindeer costume. The thought of a clown reindeer makes me want to fuck her right there doggy style.

I bring the girl home, she undresses, I undresses, she whimpers, I whimpers, I turn the mirror around, she disappears, I turn the mirror again, she is back. I play the flute as a sexual mating call that tribes in Africa do. I learned the tune from one of those National Geographic channels. You always learn stuff from those channels, definitely worth the extra few euro .

A drunken, collapsed colony on the left side of my brain struggles to grasp the complexity of the condom thermoplastic, I am a couple of attempts away from saving a baby from surfacing on this earth, where the warmth of love is calcified by the coldness of our bodies, rubbing together like glaciers off the Atlantic drift. I straggle along the coast of her body, I feel like a heat waiting to unwrap globules of puss and melt her cortex.

Half my body feels like it has drifted from the prenatal spirit. Fuck I think-something feels weird, its almost like she didn't know how to fuck, then again drunk whores usually fuck badly, like if a pilot swallowed Charlie Sheen's penis and brain whole and stir fried them with a blot of mercury chutney and tried to fly over the Rocky mountains with one hand. Damn she looks hot, a bit like Rebecca Black.

She mumbles something about been 14 years old before laughing wickedly like she knows what this means, I tell her to shut the fuck up unless she wants me to fuck her mouth, she quickly changes her tone.  Fuck that Yeats married a 14 year old you- think I care slut I think while I am on top of her and inside of her all at the same time, it is exhilarating, talk more bitch, I say. I realize this dirty bitch turns me on, she calls me a cunt, and I feel as hard as an intrusive, felsic, igneous rock.

High intensity palpations in erogenous zones, little desire to live into daylight, fuck daylight. Is she done, has she got her god damn precious orgasm yet?  Fuck her I roll off and out of her, I don't care anymore, I've stopped enjoying it since I've come, so no longer will I dig my grave inside of her.

Graves, graves, Friday, fucking Friday, how much longer until God puts me out of this misery, maybe a molotov cocktail next Friday  instead of  the usual Mojito or Sex on the Beach, the Grim Reaper can fuck my butt hole until the beach runs red with my broken dreams.

Sex and The Suburbs 5: The Girl of My Dreams part 1...

'Towering over, my belly trembling in anticipation, how long before women realise what men really want, a good swim in a lake. A blue lake with cordoned off streamers, a sand to dig a good old cold whiskey into. Matching bading suits for buddies with dicks not vaginas.' Jesus Christ I said original not homoerotic! The editor typed out some opening for me to begin my column to give me some inspiration but seriously how many pencils were snapped in their mouths trying to think of an angle for me?

I wasn't having much sex, no no, so lets cut the bull, this week isn't about sex, I'm all about finding love and well if sex comes into the equation then let it be, no biggie, lets not kid ourselves we are not saving the world everytime we have sex no matter what John Lennon says.

Poking about the icy cold pool, feet seeping of blue pool puss, trousers wrangled on sun tan bed, all ready for my hip entrance to the capital of bears and trannies, Yes Berlin 'take me in your arms and take me home...'

My bod is mayhem, it is two parts horny dread and one part romantic optimist,  it is in a cold sweat of anticipation with red spots of 'me horny horny babe'. 'It is my body' I tell myself while stuffing two jars of pickles and one pack of condoms into my back pocket,then I conclude with wise self referentiality 'the whitest skin on tanned jeans'.Undoubtedly sexy, the capital is draped in all sorts; sex shops, cheap hostels, supermarkets with aisle upon aisle of alcohol that reaches for the intoxicated stars. You can have sexy sex, sore sex or just plain old sex! I take a hit and I run for the hills. I want to kill mutterfuckers on the moon, I don't know why, I don't have to tell you why, who are you to ask me anything at all, to even speak to me...you want me to get all drangon on your ass, yeah?

Turns out the dragon had nothing to do with dragons and was a prettily placed gay nightclub where I spent approx. four to five hours hitting on lesbians and matrons wrecking my self esteem,one of them nearly kicked me in the balls. There was a haze then there was many French toasts, ambulance drives, people talking then the night vanished from my sights.

A New Day: My Awakening:

'Meet the girl of your dreams' said the billboard, 'okay where?' I retorted, a few frenzied crossroads and hot dog stops later and I indeed did find the girl of my dreams on a billbaord just above a sweaty, potbelly hot dog vendor man. Who was she? how could I find her, would she love me as much I love her... after many hours of research I found her, her name was Nora Arnezeder! She was an Austrian actress...

To be continued next week...

Sex and the Suburbs: Happy Fucking Valentine's Day

Valentine’s Day is today, I’ve just finished an article about the singlersters scene in Westland street, where singles try to find the one they love hours before V days touches down. For me it was V for vendetta as I wanted to show that mutterfucker that he cannot keep dicking me around, yet here I am again to keep my family from starving to death, he blacklisted me so I could not find work anywhere, telling his friends and connections that I fucked two fifteen year old girls on a see-saw. He rang me during the middle of the night tells me he is going to murder my family then takes away the voice defibrillator and reveals the true nature of his call for all his decadence. The one good thing I can say about him is that he lets me say what the fuck I want in my articles, even if it means bad mouthing him. Right now I want to say, he is the biggest asshole and dick show in town. He pumps his own asshole with his dick twisted around his scrawny legs, yup the one and only Owl, the dick in ass tormentor. Think you can sleep think again?

I have spent the day awaiting my dirty dirty degrading destiny  in a dark room I feel like Sheen in Apocalypse Now in the dark squalor, smashing the mirror and lying naked like a sack of wet spuds:

I have my Armani suit dusted down, the same one as my first assignment, how sentimental I was then, how horny I am now, horny as shit. The kind that doesn’t want to say no and drip off your ass, that keeps clinging until you gouge your fingers into its ravine and it delightfully fucks your fingers until they are brown with shit semen stains.

The uglier she is the harder she has to laugh at my jokes, I want her fucking lungs to collapse in laughter, her eyes to be rinsed dry with bloody excrements of my degradation of her self esteem. I am the toilet that will shit on her, no longer will she be the toilet’s master. when I tell her the joke about fucking an alien and not knowing which orifice to penetrate, I can feel her laugh vibrating off my chest, I grab her thrust my chest into her face, cup her face, and start to lick her hair and ears.

The owl has turned me into an animal, what kind of animal would I be, hmm well the Chinese New Years, you know what fuck the Chinese, I would be a fucking Russian Bear carousing around the circus leering at the audience and performers, ready to savage and rape everything in sight.

I feel like Kenny fucking Powers, ‘do you watch baseball huh do you know who I am?’ I just get confused looks, I am a bit confused too, why am I pretending to be a baseball player that in itself is parody of a baseball player. The green haired fuck, tags along and claims to be my agent, he is my friend though, or so says the Owl, he pays for everything, plays along with my games. I catch a glimpse of some pussy through a tear on some jeans, on a girl who well now after all the shots looks like a bale of hay that has sprouted arms and legs:

I start to spit my way across to her ‘Thats one fine hole you got down there’ she’s either really impressed or the hissing noise, is ‘Get the fuck away from me before I burst your head into flames’ snake charmer, I grab her by the hand, and recount every move of Kenny fucking Powers to win her vagina’s heart.

I am so fucking romantic I even add in a I heart you gesture near the end before collapsing into a congregation of bar stools, shy people, when I woke up outside the place, on the pavement, I realised what I was at wasn't a single’s night but me and my wives anniversary, that prick, that Owl for once doing something nice, and I fuck it up, I didn’t even read his memo’s, I just arrived and pillaged. I think she might want a divorce soon.  Oh well fuck her and fuck the owl, fuck you all, fuck Valentines, that’s a man anyway, you fag!

Sex and the Suburbs 3: MRHP Oriental Elf style Xmas party

The MRHP Xmas party is tonight and I am pumped, so excited! Apparently the theme is Elves and Chinese food, and our owl (MRHP editor) got us Bridget the Midget with four of her Elf Strippers for it with one sexy Santa to have a fivesome with the little buggars  for our pleasure. I didn’t want to miss that! As a gift from the owl for all the humiliation I have had to endure since working for him, he promised a sexy date.  My wife was away at volley ball practice. I had on my best clothes to make an impression. So I put on my Khaki shorts and red Marks and Spencer’s top, making sure the label was sticking out just so she knew it wasn't from Pennies. It was going to be my night for once, no observing the sexual appetites of Simian masses. All me me me me me me!

When I took out the directions to the venue that the owl had scribbled on a piece of paper for me, I noticed that it was unreadable.

It was in Chinese or something ‘fucking great I thought, more humiliation, perhaps my date who was picking me up would know?’  But once she turned up she didn't even know my name and spoke little English but at least she was hot. I was tempted to ask her up to the bedroom but it was a date and I didn’t want to seem like a sleaze ball, besides she might freak out seeing all the children’s toys everywhere and my wives dirty knickers and bra still on the bed.

Why do all Asian women look like they are 12 years old! She happily swung on my elbow and we made off like a happy date. I didn’t know where we were going but if we went to the MRHP office maybe we'd get a clue there. I was pulled over after around ten minutes of driving, the policeman grabbed me not tenderly but like totally brutally yeah. He then told me I was under arrest for sexually soliciting a fourteen year old South Korean girl. I was shocked I didn’t even think to be nervous on hearing the charges against me; the shock was so much voltage on its own. Then I realised that bastard set me up, that owl prick! The police man did a search and found the note on me, he told me that a man informed him that I would be carrying this, and that it was enough evidence to bypass courts and let me rot in a cell for years. After nearly shitting my pants, I heard him laughing and the girl too. I had been had! He let out more laughter like garlic farts in my face. When I looked back at the car she was gone she had vanished into the actor's car. This was the shittest night in a long time,  I felt so shit that I hooked up with an uber fat hooker whom barely squeezed into my car. She told me a man dressed as an owl paid her to look after me for the night, 'No he doesn't' I said and tried to oust her from the car but she was too strong.  I cried during sex or more like my dick rubbing around her whale vagina trying to find a way to end my misery yet I couldn't stop, we did it five times that night, the tears got more violent each time it was like a form of physical therapy . There you have it owl! You have it, your sadistic column of emasculation, fuck you a thousand times over! I hope your party sucks!

Sex and the Suburbs 2: Amnesiac Nights

I decided that I want out after last week. This just got the owl’s cock hardened behind his velvet apron, ‘Why I know you hate it, but it gives me such great pleasure knowing this is how you feed your family, now come, I have your outfit picked out and your babysitters too, to make sure you stay out into twilight and not pussyfoot home to watch the end of Baywatch'.

I decided I didn’t want to be there for the whole thing so I downed a litre of Sooty, made my way proclaiming how I downed it in one go, proud and falling to my knees, they hoisted me up and well the rest I cannot remember until returning to my humble abode where several men were shouting at me to apologize and ‘how could you do such a thing in front of my sister, what the fuck is wrong with you’ and I confused and pleading my innocence through not remembering anything.

One of my babysitters recounted everything in glorious detail and to my shrieks of embarrassment , firstly I thrashed a gentleman’s bathroom after he saw blood on my forehead and invited me off the street to wash it off. Where did the blood come from? I was kicking and head butting every car along the promenade, alarms swirling to the chaotic noise it delivered. And that is not the worst of it, a shed with Christmas decorations for an upcoming children’s charity event I broke into and stole and wore and smashed in glee. Although a Christmas lights coat is pretty awesome! The Trinity guards ejected me swiftly with threats of jail. I not there, but an amnesiac scarecrow, does little heed their words. Before leaving I took a piss on your man’s leg before legging it like a downsyndrome kid toward freedom, in the form of some nightclub, where I exposed my cock and started by dry humping the babysitter’s sister’s thighs who was hired to be my escort. And here I retire in embarrassment and hope that next week I will have to no longer do these shameful exposés, but I have a sneaking suspicion this is exactly what the owls wants.  

Sex and the Suburbs: Klub Pineapple

I am doing this column at the behest of the MRHP editor (who may or may not dress as an owl to hide his identity) who shuffles for shiny coins in his grubby pockets, smirks his back breaking smirk and tells me, ‘go on, get me some words boy! Fucking hell didn’t know it was 17^th century Russia today, you fucking Kulak, get yourself some clothes before you head out!’ he leads me away from his quarters and then the killer blow ‘I want a Sex and the City column but you know from a males perspective’ and why on earth did he pick me as that particular male, what do I know about a male’s perspective, what the fuck does that even mean anymore? I don’t know, but anyway my column starts at a trendy sushi bar (It has a Russian roulette menu that chooses for you). I needed male versions of Samantha, Charlotte, Miranda and the horse face one that makes men want to throw up and I am in luck, the table next to me has all that and more, they are intoxicated on a towering two litre bottle of Saki. They invite me over when they see me looking at their table; I was suspicious that it was the Saki and not them that was welcoming me, either way I was on course for my assignment.

Going to the nightclub one of them confronted a homeless man ‘Do you take card mate? Don’t have any change like...’ then there was a violent wrestle for the homeless man’s wine which at this point he was using as a pillow, when a buggered bile coming into the vagrant’s eyes, green snot rising into his black pupils, and the venom of a thousand misplaced pythons steaming from the white follicles of his face, we knew it was time to leg it with the wino’s wine.

We finally arrive at the nightclub at around ten; let’s just call it Klub Pineapple for legal purposes. This Pineapple was a fine place to meet a certain class of girls. Trapped under their fingernails you will find the residue of chemicals from freshly imported manicures begotten on Paris shopping trips. To taste under their nails is to taste their panties, is to know their anatomy, is to pick their fruit in scent and be at one with a divine erectile dysfunction, as the chemicals impale the midway section.

So the night got started and I got acquainted with their peculiar vernacular:

Fucking slut, I give her money for a taxi home after riding her and tell her to fuck off...is that what you really told her? I heard you went home and wanked to ‘Main Street Mom’ while using your tears to lub up your anus for your brother’s slippery cock...One of them turned to me ‘it’s good to see you poeming it?’ ‘Huh no that is actually how I talk...why what is wrong with the way I talk?’ ‘Oh look at me fancy boy, with me truffle in one arm and my boudoir in my other arm’ ‘do you know what either of them mean?’ ‘No cos that would make me a fancy boy like you...’ ‘what the fuck is a fancy boy...‘

To ease my irritation at their jibes I had a few beers in quick succession, and then I hear, ‘Buttonhole the horny bitch!’ ‘ I threw my rowies (a pill that induces amnesia) onto the ground in fright. The medication I took earlier was catching up, big elephant killing painkillers and some birth pills too from my sister because I was feeling mischief and I know how girls love when you experience what they are going through. At the bar on my fifth pitcher the wind of the nightclub’s air conditioners quickly blew their words my direction ‘quick a slut southwest...which way is southwest you fuckwit? Just turn around, I am not going to turn around, she’ll see me... Then majestically the song ‘What is Love’ plays.

I have always been a romantic, so this song speaks deeply about the philosophical questions of love to me. ‘I’d give her juicebox some meat!’ I didn’t want to look out of place so I pretended to know what this meant and followed it up with ‘ I’d snip her turnip up alright’ which everyone nodded their head with in agreement. I had winged it, those fuckers took my bluff, I am king I can do anything, I can fuck any girl here without conscience. ‘Get yourself a Katy French white dog poop would you’, and he ruffled the white stuff petulantly on his pig face, splaying his tongue in mock French tongue, ham, sausage, pig cake, I thought, I will fuck you, I will swirl a knife into your back and scatter your skin across the dance floor as confetti for others to stamp and frolic in, you fuck!’

I thought I was in love when I first lay my eyes on a pretty blonde who looked lost. I shoved her into the bar and then brushed off dust from her shoulder pretending to be her hero ‘I don’t know who did that, but if I catch them, I swear...do you want a drink to alleviate the pain?’ she obliged dazed, then I kicked her in the heel, she toppled from her high heels like King Kong from the Empire States building. I didn’t want to ruin spending all my money, so I ordered her a water...’This vodka tastes funny’, ‘yeah the crap they give you in here like’, she then asked me my name at which point I felt an uncontrollable anger, from where I don’t know, the volcanic concoction of drugs maybe. I licked my own cheeks for no apparent reason other than it felt good , I grabbed her by the throat pushed the pills down her little flailing throat, I was gasping, the movement was exhausting, stupid bitch making me sweat I said to myself, I then congratulated myself on my subtlety, anyone who could see was too drunk to presume anything other than we were a couple, doing secret couple things. The barman, let a sneer out her way as if to say ‘if I was out tonight I’d be doing that to you, slut!’

‘Poor girl, I thought, I love her so much, I wonder how she looks naked? Wonder what her clitoris looks like drenched in cum. I imagined slamming the pigs head down and exclaiming ‘one drink for one pig’s head good sir?’ I was wearing a top hat with a cane in this fantasy...anyway yeah I don’t remember the rest because the rowies kicked in. I woke up in an empty house, somewhere I’ve never seen. I decided to help myself to the cereal. There was a nice animal puzzle on the back, I aced it!