She loved teaching her parrot Nkuzu to repeat filthy phrases back to her, but she had never expected that he would do so in the presence of the gas man, who took the phrase as a proposition and wasted no time getting down to business. Alas, Nkuzu didn’t appreciate such things, although he didn’t protest either, simply letting the spunk hang off his beak until most of it fell to the floor.
He coup de grâced one off all over her huge bangers.
The coruscating ululations of the opera’s climax raised the hairs on his neck, and as he marvelled at what a brilliant show he had just seen, he also sniggered as he heard a huge ripsnorter rattle the walls of the box next to his. Along with much of the audience, he looked round, grinning, and saw several people fleeing and trying to waft the hot cloud back into the box so that they wouldn’t be associated with it. He made a note to include that in the review.
His dusty hand grasped his shaft, the blood surging insistently through the veins, the bulb gleaming tautly, the awareness of peril providing a final vitality that coursed through his body. Each stroke seemed guided in its timing by the vibrations of the building as it creaked and groaned, the many fires within it supposedly weakening the steel support structure, even though they seemed to burn at far too low a temperature. An explosion deep within the building brought the gooey stuff gushing up into the firing position. He had closed his eyes momentarily, and the intended object of his creaming, the young, frankly rather ugly new intern, had had time to escape. Factoring in a short jog and perhaps a leap before he would erupt, he could see that the only viable target now was a tangle of two bodies to his right – the managing director of his firm, and the Puerto Rican cleaner who had just involuntarily brought the MD to the floor. He snapped into motion, darting toward the pair, pumping away furiously and breathing fast to try and hold on for a moment more. As the critical mass rose, and orders were given several blocks away to commence the final detonations, he screamed, demanding with all the passion he had left for the MD to get out of the way. Too slowly did the fat oaf roll aside. but it was no tragedy that some of the soaring semen was to grace his neck and chin, for far more was deposited across the brow and the nape of the cleaner – a victory, just not a flawless one. “Mmmmm, yeah!” she cried. There was one sweet moment of contentment left for the two of them, and a bond that would be sundered only by death – and thus very soon, as the ceiling crumpled and gigantic columns of concrete descended, his demented roar of exultation becoming one with the doom that consumed them all.
At her suggestion, they met on Hampstead Heath on the first sunny day of the year, and the picnic with which she surprised him was marvellous. Then, with the sun still high in the sky and laughter and chatter all around them, he presented a surprise of his own – two ‘tickets’ to go back to his bedsit, close the curtains, dress up in PVC and watch Salò with a big bottle of Teachers.
His grotesquely malformed nutsack exploded terrifyingly in a devastating shower of pus-riddled spunk which was flung into the wrinkles and crevices of her own wretched horror mask of a face. Together they fell, buffeted by the bloody cascade, and lay whimpering pathetically on the floor, a miserable heap of sagging, naked old flesh. Nothing would ever explain, still less assuage, the memory of that appalling detonation. Still, she quietly leaned over to lap up some of the fetid ball-cream as he lay groaning at the agony of his shredded underhang. “Mmmmm,” she muttered. “Yeah. Gimme it.”
His balls smashed into her face with the velocity of a cannon ball. But where was the rest of him?
Stones tumbling and rats scurrying away sent haunting echoes through the crumbling corridors of concrete among which he resided. The paucity of life, the abundance of ruin, and the collapsing, dirty clouds above made all his surroundings seem empty yet oppressive. The memory of beloved companions now lost, and the ever-blunted shoots of hope that sprang anew in vain, rent him open each day to fresh depths of misery. And amidst all this, his only desire was to look at images of pairs of big tits clamped around wangers, imagine the wangers to be his, and jerk out meagre servings of gooey semen onto his dwindling supply of tissues.
Her thong was sodden, though whether from clungeinal excitement or urine he wasn’t yet close enough to ascertain, and she was far from forthcoming on the matter, partly out of bashfulness, partly because nobody had asked her, and partly because her jaw and tongue had just been blown off.