Her shrill declarations about the rights of women didn’t seem so compelling when she was on her knees in front of two huge schlongs.
The wyvern’s talons tore through her bodice, missing her vital organs by an inch. Surely the next swipe would be the death of her. Her lacey covering fell open, exposing her bosom, and although that tremendous sight would not lift her guards’ spirits enough to turn the battle, it did draw forth a great cry of approval from both sides. Still, though – the wyvern! Its great claw was raised as though to swipe down and through her, but the beast stayed for a moment, transfixed by those sumptuous knockers, and now it lost the momentum and was run through from four directions, ‘til it tottered and stumbled and, finally, fell to the ground on top of one of the enemy soldiers, drenching the hapless man’s jerkin with its final ejaculation and deafening him with its orgasmic groan-cum-death rattle.
Surely there was only a certain amount of other people’s earwax-infused pus a man could reasonably be expected to quaff, but still, that amount was in the centigallons and he was still at the stage of vomiting violently after each sip from the first beaker (with faded Power Rangers print). He was determined to get through it, though. What doesn’t kill me makes m-HUARRRGGGHHHH!
Yes, he was wearing couture vicuña briefs. No, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be spunking into them. It didn’t even mean that he hadn’t already (he had).
Little Jamie was running around, Jayden was following him, Katie had just pooed in her nappy and now mother was calling for help from upstairs too, and if she was calling while the kids were going mad, that meant it was urgent. Now she saw smoke coming from the oven. Shit! She’d forgotten about their waffles. Oh, God. And it was raining. The washing had to be dry for this evening. Then her phone started ringing, and it was her boss. He never usually rang. Just as she was about to answer it, she heard a sharp rap on the front door and a face trying to poke through the letterbox. The bailiff! Oh, God. And he’d definitely seen her already. Her mum called again. She told Katie to just stay still for a moment. She thought of getting Jamie to bring in the washing but then almost laughed at the idea. She began to scurry upstairs. But then the smoke alarm went off, and it was piercingly loud. Suddenly, near the bottom of the stairs, she found herself losing control, and turd after turd plunged out of her arse, into and through her knickers and fell free to flop indecorously into the puddle of piss she had poured forth at the same time.
His lips exploded! Well, that will happen if you pay the lowest possible price in Dhaka to get them ‘done’, or so he had been told over the crackling phone line by his concerned mother, but had he listened? Had he fuck. Ah, man, it really hurt too. Still, perhaps he could distract people by getting some more botox in his already-bulging forehead, or maybe in the hideously rigid flesh around his eyes.
It was a thrushy time, but they got through it.
She blasted from the cannon and straight into the comically enormous turd, sinking deep inside and hearing people begin to scream as the brown mass closed again behind her, trapping her inside and turning a vulgar birthday amusement into a terrifying scramble for survival.
He knew that having a lip job was a mistake, let alone in the ‘seventies, and now, as he stared at himself in the mirror, bits of lip flesh sagging and hanging down from his abused mouth, he knew that only death could restore his dignity. But, hey, dignity was overrated, and instead he eagerly started calling lesser-known clinics to inquire about radical, cutting-edge remedial surgery at the lowest possible prices.
Another serving of salty cum splattered hard into her face, then another, and another, but she persisted in her task, and soon the plane’s course was righted and the lives of everyone on board saved.