Into the mix

Her bodice sprang open, a button pinging off an exposed heating pipe, the pressure of her heaving bosom simply too much to be contained by that delicate satin garment. The boobs thus exposed, he could scarcely be forgiven for succumbing to his excitement, although it was generally agreed later that he should at least have got the old chap out before it gooped into his vicuña-acrylic mix Y-fronts.

Trick of the light

It was a cock, yes, yet it seemed not to have an opening at the end. Come to think of it, it seemed not to have any veins either. She had seen smooth ones before, sure, but they usually still had that big vein down the underside. This one didn’t even ha- oh – wait. She’d been here before. This thing – it was the size of a cock, yes – a big one at that – but it wasn’t made of human flesh. She looked down to where it didn’t meet the groin of a man (or woman). It stood alone. Well, it laid alone. And it wasn’t really the colour of human flesh, or at least not of anyone she’d been intimate with. And, far from having veins protruding from the surface, if anything it had crevices across it, perhaps where the surface had been smooth under pressure but had then fractured somewhat when released. Released from what, though? Something about the same width as a cock. She couldn’t figu- agh! She gagged and leaned back. The smell… wow, yep, there it was. It was the smell of poo. She was looking at a poo.