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Allen Wilbert  Apr 2014
Smack
Allen Wilbert Apr 2014
Smack
Smack my *** in a car,
smack my *** in a bar.
Smack my ***, here or there,
I don't believe in any underwear.
I love a good *** smack,
right below the plumbers crack.
If I'm naked or wearing clothes,
smacking my *** is what I propose.
Smack my *** in the bed,
smack my *** after I'm dead.
Smack my *** up or down,
smack my *** in any town.
Smack my ***, cause I said so,
smack my *** before you go.
It doesn't matter where or how,
smack my ***, please right now.
Smack it good, smack it hard,
give my *** it's best regard.
You know you want to smack my ***,
just please no more broken glass.
Smack my *** in the shower,
whack it good, with all your power.
Smack my *** in the street,
my *** deserves a good beat.
Smack my *** and never stop,
maybe this boil will someday pop.
An incomprehensible comprehensive change of fortune it would take, amongst all flora & fauna, to realize Darwin's jigsaw puzzle. These pant-legs drag the floors; the waistband of my underpants is clearly visible; I have 32 tattoos; my English is poor; I have had success with women, although the figures are impossible. From hereon in, & from now on: it's unsalted cashews for me! Concern yourself not with my inconsequential injuries. My mind, body & soul remain unified. Do my enlighten'd steps mystify you? Does my “pick-up-&-go-attitude” befuddle you? Am I unrecognizable to all who would belittle Hermann Goering? Should we goose-step in lock-step to please our modern socialists? There's more information: more information in Japanese...than China would have you know...Friday is roast beef & pudding night at K.F.C. Millions of Moslems will be playing grab-*** while babies drown in swimming pools. Bring on $30-worth of gaiety!!!
TALLAHASSEE CONTAINS ALLAH to whom I'm truly true blue
as He is the Just, the King, the Watchful, the Father of me & of you
Like 9 dogs eatin' tuna fish I cried for your thigh to comfort me like
the jack breadfruit that comforted Bounty Lieutenant William Bligh
whilst he abstained from Tahitian maidens who were cunningly shy
My big, beautiful mouth that frets & sasses makes me intellectually
superior to everyone except the most idiotic of ******* dumb *****
whose apple cider vinegar becomes unsulfured blackstrap molasses
Remember again old cross firemen, Jesus burned for your arson sin
2,000 years before I wrapped your fat *** around your chinless chin
through hellish dew of frosty equanimity with Gail Fisher as Peggy,
Mannix shaved his dangling loose hairy stems above gay legs leggy
so that he might wiggle folklorical jigs like Haitians do with reggae
Gay-***-whackin' Hillary Clinton humps *** to a disco-***-humpin'
beat from her *** crooked-pants-suited *** to her lezzy-***-toed feet
stuck in turds as Bill sodomizes a mule, **** Hillary can be bought
stuck in pig **** as Billy rapes another, shaky Hillary can be bought
with Kleenex 'cause her honker has 5 pounds of unsought nose snot
that added nothin' to the virulent ****** that I ain't not never caught
On clean teen carpet she munched, slurped & lapped sink drain-like
forcing me to slap her shitless so that she could be a real, sane ****
whose despicable antics I am not morally outraged by, nor annoyed
as this repugnant behavior is directed medically by faux cushingoid
which accounts for her likeness to the puffy-faced star Alison Lloyd
who had something criminally criminal to do when she wasn't doin'
something grimy to fill her cravenously-craven-criminalistical void
that toys with emotions that are not immune to being toyed with on
the weekends that were made for Michelob on my blue hemorrhoid
that toys with emotions that aren't afraid of being toyed with on gay
weekends that were made for Michelob dumped on my hemorrhoid
only 'cause it is something to do when you are not doing something
that could have ended early the cowboyin'-guy-life of William Boyd
whose hoppin,' in the hoppin'-along biz, derived from a secosteroid
Vegetable-hating vegans love pagans & meat-eaters secrete beavers
& Yukio & Yoko Mishima beat to death with a bat old Tom Seavers
after he frittered away his ball-batting career as a raunchy, gay dude
to the tune of 4 original Beatles crooning the god-awful "Hey Jude"
while fat priests ****** nuns & nudists in nudist colonies pray ****
for chapel cameras of the ******* Channel's dude ranch, Play Dude
where the rudest nudists & naturalists, nudely & naturally stay rude
without caring to distinguish betwixt fake night & serious day food
that could throw a self-effacing exhibitionist into a filthy, gay mood
with prelude payload which equates to slaves getting their pay sued
by orthognathical charlatans who worship devil-lovin' Ben Franklin
in his guise as Frenchy Chucky de Gaulle who could send tank men
for forensical strikes targetin' ****** on rivers whereat men bank sin
with a plugged-up ******* called Peter Hamilton, feet or Nam again
in quokka flesh minus 22% over a pig sty or a bacon-oiled ham pen
Even though He maintained amazing Bible-understanding abilities,
Pittsburgh's wall-to-wall ******* gave Jesus the Hill District jiggers
Despite His God given Holy Christian Bible-understandin' abilities,
Pittsburgh's loo-to-loo ******* gave Jesus shaky, Hill District jitters
that ache way too late & shake for a sexily-religious girl who titters
over dead Zhanna Friske's Russian lickspittles & ******* pig-sitters
gettin' one passed normal lesbians with tattoos of sickly zoo critters
that clearly show pederasts of The New York Times ******* shitless
after chalking Marxistical New York Times sources ******* shitless
in Bethlehem stables stabling new stud muffin horses shoed witless
where hippy people with greasy long hair were quite apt to be livin'
clawing about what's issue based vs. character drivel, I mean driven
Ol' Walker McDonald was my very special friend until he ***** me
under a nice fig tree beyond the bitchiest beach of the Sargasso Sea
where he wouldn't quit ****** me despite my sexiest desperate plea
I hollered a lot in a ******-nutty masculine voice but he did not care
about rotten figs that matted my Ellen-degenerated, lezzy-short hair
I told everyone in North Vietnam & Laos that he couldn't he trusted
'cause the 21,798 times he ***** me made me thoroughly disgusted
like there were gigantical nests of bugs up my *** heavily encrusted
in cracks where ****-crop-dusting planes can't dive swoop in dusted
before flying into my inner-sanctum room like old Corrie ten Boom
whose bee-busy life, after her crapping-out death, has yet to resume
in order to beat senseless neo-brutalistical V.A. nursing home abuse
that kills the blood-coagulatin' screams of a cursing gnome papoose
draped across the *** of a ***-rail engineer takin' it up the caboose
to make his gay meaning known to stragglers too lucid to be obtuse
Don't ****** me I'm your amigo, oh yeah I forgot in your final spin
that a plucky slice'd paralyze you forever good on any hot spinal fin
****** ****** at ****** mall: Who's the baddest ****** of them all?
Is it Ringo, or dead George/John, or false/fake ******, Beatle Faul?
I cannot wear no slutty dress because I got a sass-*** dose of P.M.S.
I can't ***** in my slutty dress while I got a bad-*** dose of P.M.S.
My boyfriend's a ***** queer who has been ripped up his ***'s rear
In city pig files they record my criminal-*****-bone record in miles
Here amongst the thoroughly hypnotized, I spank your lard **** red
while you flee with free fleas that fly with flies that are too-well fed
while you flee with 3 free fleas that fly with flies that are overly fed
The traveling mermaid porked & beaned me in the moldy sea green
as P.B.S.'s Fred Rogers fits into a death list of ***, dead codgers we
ruefully mourn the murders of Jack the Ripper's ******-red lodgers
who overtly related homosexually to lesbian heterosex bed-dodgers
on mountain picnics in Pennsylvania where they are fed odd chores
There ain't nothing grim in threading tawny-titted Hawaiian women
before drug-induced comas or with food cramps got from swimmin' Demon Hillary, I Would ****** Everybody Just to Make You Smile
Is this wrong? No, murdering everybody is Scratch's most beautiful
way to say: "I loathe you Bill" in his hottest court of Luciferian trial
A raunchy **** bussed my *** with cerebral palsy quicker than Ajax
scrubbed the crapped-out Admiral William Halsey. I'd mount 1 trull
plain or crunchy too but not when she humps like a Harlem *******
We told everybody deaf 'bout "us" but everybody but "us" was deaf
to our mutant deafness save Harland Sanders & Burger Chef & Jeff
Swallow this sea-warped poker chip to see what can happen while I
moodily tap out Florida flame red maple trees to drain all the sap in
Anita O'Day never curled the nether tufts of Melvin Howard Tormé
because she was a limpless gimp who saw sike-a-***** as girly gay
in the throes of scissor lovin' between Blobert Rake & Huddy Bolly
whose fine, rug-burned legs queered their sapphical, sexoholic folly
that in 1966 farted greasy Earth's real cheeses to slickly **** breezes
as 99 rescue inhalers asphyxiated fatalistically-asthmatical wheezes
I love the ocean. Do you feel the aloof sea spray on your face? That
ain't sea spray. That's a gay *** peeing down on you from the roof.
I like my ******* on caffeine-free diets as they're better controlled I
think, than apes on caffeine-big diets who **** ******* cherry pink
for sea-lovers in iron linkage to twist apart a chewed-on master link
soaked in a tub 93% bigger than a beef washer's blood-washed sink
Let us forgive my unkind words but the dog turds I tracked in aren't
my dog's turds 'cause your ***'s really pretty like that of an angel's
dead cousin, so you must not cream on creamy donuts by the dozen
I will not talk of you in the old past as long as you are able to ****
really fast. The way to hell is lousy with sinners as each part of you
could provide several dinners. Our cherries are nicer than the sweet
cherries in pies. I wish that our 4 eye sockets had 4 cherry-red eyes.
You're so tiny that you stand 'neath my knee at a distance so nice to
bruise my better kidney. Shut up a lot, I told you before. I ain't got a
mistress who did not chronically snore. I could slather your body in
peanut butter from scalp to *** belly like would that jack-*** Kojak
Savalas brother called Telly. How many times have I warned you to
shut up? 3,345 trillion 9 hundred thousand 128? Enough is enough!
I scratched your back while you were reverently praying, just like a
Catholical priest, which is the chief role I'm now piously portraying
Part of me wants to **** you the other doesn't when I was me & you
were so wasn't, when your ****** were floral with dandelions, ever
more gay than those that were Paul Ryan's. After January we'll ****
bleached whales on the beach while I castigate old adulteresses in a
sermon I preach beneath the flickering grand dragon wizard's torch.
God has blessed us with elbows & knees & sharp teeth, only to bite
whoever's sporting deliciously-moist quims that we strive to please
Kicking the **** out of constipation is my preferred realization with prunes, olive oil & herbs from rich soil, for once I'm well you'll see
healthful regularity overtaking me. I'll make your cheery cherry pop
by threading your pretty Barbie bobbin so fast that I can hardly stop
from attaching psychedelical fixations to conundrums psycholytical
No one asleep had ever downed a pickle 'cause the racer who hit 45
wet spots was the women-pleasing racer large Richard **** Trickle
No one awake had ever drowned a pickle because the racer who hit
damp spots was the ****-racing racer, big-stick Richard **** Trickle
No one awake had ever got ******-cell sickle with the racer who hit
87 damp spots, the ***-****-racing racer, ***** Richard **** Trickle
who found that **** babes with keen intellects were tricky to tickle
as ****'ll be doin' Marianne Faithfull with big-ribbed-****** ******
in his British Marxian way with obligatory sledge hammer & sickle
to spread her ******* for shire horse hung Beatle Jimmy Nicol
as Albert Hofmann's 102-year-old L.S.D. schlort is a thrill pickle in
a Swiss lab bobbing dead in *****, unable to pork, **** & ***** all
while Bert Hofmann's 102-year-ol' L.S.D. ******* is a dill pickle in
a Swiss lab bobbin' in *****, unable to poke, sock, cram & stick all
because of contact with a toxical/allergical rose bushy thorn prickle
Some of me's puerile, the other section's a rash, over my nasty belly
is mama, below is a wacky, pinkish ******, while I pile onward real
love from 11 p.m. till the pole star's there, 8 degrees from starboard
several acres from where the **** wipes for my liquor bar are stored
You're brave & you're wise, with my camera I'll capture your thighs
I long for blonde hair of which you've plenty. I want to kiss all of it
before you turn 20. Our Russian passion will pass a fever pitch like
convicts on a chain gang diggin' a ditch. You whistle alluringly like
Lauren Bacall. I wonder, can you do it pulling from Bogart's straw?
Let's eat cookies while we sleep in my million-dollar Blue Bird bus
because I have expensive chocolate chip cookies just for the 2 of us
Tell me the truth, I am dyin' to know. Will you be able to stop when
we go go go? It's very important that you're careful so you don't get
knocked up by a drunken sailor or a window washer or a blind man
with a tin cup. Your pocked *** is really low slung like a green pine
ladder's 1st broken rung. I bang you in the murky morning too early
for lunch 'cause you ain't ½ as **** as Alice from The Brady Bunch
whose meat-hacking with butcher Sam included a knock-out punch
Turn up the gas, I want no damp cell, no moist damsel in **** hell
whose ill virginity is wiped clean by my hellishly-wild *** machine
I love you tall, I love you short in a barrel, beneath a port. You are a
broad. I know it's true. Live up to the crooked contract or I will sue.
Richard F. Burton, extinguish *** Taylor's fiery *** that lit abruptly
in the Golfo de México from B.P.'s unmothered-crack-head-****-gas
I took harmful advice to seize a 1-upped leg man ****-deep in knees
Àŧùl  Dec 2015
The Royal Ass
Àŧùl Dec 2015
The king had a terrific ***,
The *** ran a race & won it!

The media glorified it and put,
'The King's *** Won The Race!'

The king felt embarrassed,
He gave his *** to the queen.

The media again hyped it and put,
'A Royal Exchange: The Queen Has The Best *** In The Kingdom!'

The royal family felt frustrated & flustered,
They decided to do away with the *** now.

The Queen's ***, which earlier was the King's *** was abandoned in the forest,
The royalty felt at ease now.

But the media hyped it too!
*THE ROYAL *** GOES WILD!!!
Inspired from a Whatscrap joke I received.

A King enrolled his donkey in a race & won.

Local paper read:
'KING's *** WON'

The king was so upset with this kind of publicity that he gave the donkey to the queen.

The local paper then read:
"QUEEN HAS THE BEST *** IN TOWN"
The king fainted....

Queen sold the donkey to a farmer for Rs100.

Next day paper read: "QUEEN SELLS HER *** FOR Rs100"
The queen fainted...

The next day king ordered the queen
to buy back the donkey and leave it in jungle.

The Next Headlines:
"QUEEN ANNOUNCES HER *** IS FREE & WILD"
The king died... !!

This was Indian media in Britain, you know better.

My HP Poem #932
©Atul Kaushal
shyann raulerson Jul 2013
I heard faint noises downstairs, and I decided to investigate. I pulled on a pair of cut-off jeans and grabbed the old pump shotgun that had served me so well in Viet-Nam from under my bed and crept downstairs to check. My Ranger training came into play, and I moved soundlessly, down the stairs and into the living room. An air of vague shadowy figures were searching through the cabinet that housed my collection of antique silver. I announced my presence in a sudden and intimidating manner: I merely pumped the action of the shotgun, then immediately moved to the right so if anyone shot, he would shoot where I had been, not where I was now. That sound was a language that everyone understood, including the two figures before me. They froze, and were still motionless.

"Mr. Steve?" one of the figures quavered. "Please don't shoot!"

I recognized the voice as belonging to Lisa, the twenty-year-old daughter of my nearest neighbor. I didn't know who the other person was or who else may be in the house, so I kept the shotgun pointed in their direction and hit the light switch with my free hand. Immediately a car cranked up in my driveway, and tires squealing, raced out to the road and away. I looked at my midnight visitors. I recognized Lisa and Julie, who was a close friend of Lisa's and a frequent overnight visitor of hers. They were holding between them a laundry bag containing most of my silver collection. I lowered the muzzle of the cut down shotgun.

"You sure know how to get yourselves killed," I stated. "Mind telling me who was in the car? You don't want to take the rap all by yourselves."

"Please don't shoot! That was Mike, it was all his idea! He made us do it! He said he would put us out and make us walk home if we didn't do it! Are you going to call the Cops?"

Now I could understand why the girls tried to burglarize my home. It was a fifteen-mile walk home in pitch darkness on a moon-less night for the two frightened girls. It was just what a worthless **** like Mike would pull. Knowing what I did about Lisa's boyfriend, I knew what he probably needed the money for. He was nineteen; the only job he had ever had was selling drugs, and I don't mean at the pharmacy. He was a charmer though. Girls fell for his good looks and his charm, and would do anything for him, and he of course chose the best looking one of the bunch, Lisa. She never realized what a slime-ball he really was. The problem was that Lisa didn't have a father to threaten to put a bullet in Mike's behind, and her mother was just as deceived as she was.

"You broke into my house and attempted to steal my belongings. Why shouldn't I?" I said with false sternness. I wouldn't really turn them in, now that I knew the situation. I would give the girls a good scare, then a ride home. Maybe then Lisa would see through Mike's veneer.

"Because we'll do anything you want," Julie offered, speaking for the first time. "Anything at all!"

Julie stepped over and ran her hand up my leg, pausing to tweak the head of my ****, which was hanging out of the leg of my cutoffs. I hadn't bothered to pull on any underwear. Julie was almost as good looking as Lisa was. Both girls had fabulous bodies, large firm ****, and smooth well-rounded *****. Julie had a cute face, whereas Lisa was absolutely beautiful.

"Yes, anything you want to do!" Lisa agreed.

The girls weren't wanton *****, but scared out of their wits and taking the only way out that they could think of. Of course they weren't virgins. It hadn't occurred to me to take advantage of the girls like this, and I would have declined Julie's offer if she hadn't fooled with my **** like that. You see, I was developing an outrageous *******, and with my **** hanging down the leg of some fairly tight shorts, the situation was rapidly becoming painful and serious. I had to get those pants off fast! Also, I hadn't been laid in quite a while. I decided to lay my cards on the line.

"You kids know me. I never had any intention of calling the Cops. I was going to give you a scare to teach you a lesson, then drive you home. Does that mean the offer is withdrawn?"

The girls looked at each other and both breathed a sigh of relief, big smiles on their faces. Lisa winked at Julie. "Nope," Julie said, smiling, "It still stands. Lets go upstairs."

I escorted the girls to my bedroom, pressed the magazine block on the shotgun, pumped out the shell that was still in the chamber, then put it back in the magazine. I tossed it onto the dresser with a loud thump.

I turned around and both girls were stark naked. Lisa came over, dropped to her knees, and planted a wet kiss on the head of my painfully throbbing ****. My ******* became harder still. I had to get out of those cutoffs! Julie solved that problem. She unzipped and unbuttoned them and gently worked them down around my rock-hard ****, allowing it to spring up to freedom.

"Lets get on the bed first," I suggested, "Then we have fun."

"Lay down on your back," Lisa insisted. "Have we got something for you!"

I complied, and Lisa leaned over and put my **** in her hot mouth. Her tongue swirled over the head, ran up and down the shaft, and started over again. I looked over at Julie and she was watching avidly. Not having anything better to do with my hands, I reached between her legs and caressed her ****. Julie gasped with surprise, then spread her legs. Her **** was already hot and wet, so I slid my ******* in all the way, then started finger ******* her and massaging her **** with my thumb. Her **** hardened and grew. Julie had her eyes closed and was erotically tweaking her ***** *******. She was slowly lowering her body, deepening the ******* of my finger, and rocking her hips back and forth, intensifying the stroking of her ****. Julie's hot ***** juices ran down my hand while Lisa's mouth was still working on my throbbing ****.

I began to draw my hand from Julie's sopping wet ****, but she grabbed it and held it tightly to her crotch. I pulled my hand now, and she came with it. I grabbed her thigh and swung her leg over me, so she was now sitting on my chest. I pulled my finger from her hungry ****, grabbed her ***, and pulled her ****** right up to my face. As soon as I flicked her **** with the tip of my tongue, she went wild, ******* my face, filling my nostrils with the sweet aroma of her **** juices. I thought I would give her all the licking she could handle. I rammed my tongue into her ****-hole with all my might, then gently nibbled on her ****. Apparently she had a low threshold, as this was all she could stand.

"Oh God, I'm coming!" she screamed, ground her **** into my face one more time, quivered, then collapsed sideways onto the bed.

One down, one to go. I looked at Lisa, still ******* my **** for all she was worth. I was nearing the end of my endurance, and I still hadn't had my **** in any hot **** yet. I grabbed Lisa's shoulders and pulled her mouth from my ****. I turned her around and held her up, her blonde ***** triangle just inches over my waiting tool.

"Give it to her! Now!" Julie whispered.

Lisa's **** didn't look wet or ready to take anything in it yet, but my **** was ready to take some *****. Julie reached over and spread the lips to Lisa's still dry *****, and began tweaking her ****. Lisa gasped her surprise at her most private place being touched by another chick. Within seconds though, her **** and inner ***** lips began to swell, and her juices started flowing. I slowly lowered Lisa to my rod, admiring her glistening pinkness. Julie guided my throbbing rod into Lisa's wet love hole.

"Please, be careful! Ah-h-h-h! Go slow, I'm so tight!"

I lowered Lisa very carefully, for her hot ****-hole was indeed the tightest ***** I had ever felt. With that in mind, I fought the urge to slam her down on my eager ****. As soon as she was down, I grabbed her *** and began sliding her back and forth. Lisa bit her lip as a tear trickled down from one eye.

"Stop, Mr. Steve! It's hurting her!" Julie commanded. Then to Lisa, "You haven't done it much, have you?"

"Just once, with Mike, and he isn't this big. It hurt then, too!" Lisa sobbed. "I wanted so bad to do it with Mr. Steve because he's been so nice to me, and I was so scared when I saw how big he was. Oh, it hurts!"

"You'd better get up then." I reassured, "I don't want to do anything to you that you don't want me to do."

"I want to go on, really I do! But don't you have anything I could use to make it easier?"

"Yeah, any Vaseline, or KY jelly, or something like that?" Julie asked.

"I have some KY jelly in the bathroom." I answered.

Julie jumped up and padded into the bathroom. I watched her naked *** jiggle as she left.

"You're gonna have to get up." I told Lisa. I gently lifted her ***. She bit her lip again and moaned as my **** slowly withdrew from her tortured hole. With a pop from her *****, a shriek burst from her lips as my **** sprung from her nearly dry ****-hole. She knelt on the bed next to me, softly crying, clutching herself where it hurt. I realized that she had been wrong in pretending to be so eager. A more gentle approach was needed.

I reached over, pulled her to me, and kissed her lips passionately. She ****** once in surprise, then melted into my arms, returning my kiss, forgetting the pain in her ****. I ran my hand around to her firm **** and gently stroked her *******, feeling them harden under my touch. I pulled my mouth from hers and kissed the point of each hard ******. She moaned and gasped with each touch of my lips, but from pleasure this time, not from pain. While I had her aroused, I lightly traced circles on her tummy with my finger, each circle going lower and lower, until I finally reached the blonde **** of her ***** hair. Slowly, I reached down and cupped her ***** with my hand, being careful not to press too hard or insert my finger. I would know when she was ready for *******. She responded with a **** and a gasp. I pressed again, and she gasped again. I kissed each firm ****** one last time, then started kissing down her tummy to her love nest, which was now warming and starting to respond to my touch.

I spread her legs and gently ran the tip of my tongue the full length of her slit. When I reached the vicinity of her ****, she reacted as though she had been shocked. She arched her back, pressing her **** against my face. Maybe she was ready. I probed again with my tongue, harder this time, hard enough to separate her ****-lips and tickle her ****. She went mad again, jerking and twitching in response to the touch of my tongue, moaning and panting. Then I felt her **** harden, her inner lips swell and spread, and her delicious juices start to flow. Now she was definitely ready for more. I probed her ****-hole with my tongue, licked all the way up to her ****, swirled it around, bit it gently, and then probed her hole again. When I started doing all this, she went even wilder. She spread her legs, ****** and reared against my face, and pulled my head tight against her hot cooze.

"Oh-h-h-h-h, **** me," she moaned, "I can't stand it any more! I don't care if it does hurt! Please, please **** me!"

I put her throbbing **** between my lips and gave it one hard ****, drawing it completely into my mouth, and pulled my head back sharply, causing her **** to pop back. She screamed, ****** her hips at me, and grabbed her sweating *******.

When she had subsided, her legs still spread, I mounted her in the traditional position. I started to position my throbbing pole for a gentle entry, but Lisa released her **** and spread her ****-lips with one hand and guided my tool to her sopping wet ****-hole with the other. She was much wetter now than when Julie diddled her ****, wet enough to ****.

"Please do it now!" Lisa pleaded.

I began to insert my **** cautiously, and found that due to her juices, entry was no problem. Lisa groaned like a ****** as I slid into her hot wetness. When she had taken as much of my ten-inch tool as she could, I still wasn't all the way in. But she began pumping her hips, causing the swollen head of my **** to ram against the back of her *****. She was as deliciously tight as before, but she must have been stretching, for with just a few strokes, my ***** were slapping against her ***, and I was in to the hilt. My tenderness and foreplay had paid off.

"Oh-h-h-h, that's good!" she purred when I began pumping to meet her rhythm. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and was pumping as hard as I was. With each stroke, I would completely withdraw from her hot, tight wetness, then shove my eager tool back in to the hilt, never missing her voracious target, always sliding easily in, jamming against the back of her *****.

Her pumping increased in tempo, and I sped up to match. Each pump became harder and more frantic than the one before. Lisa's breathing became harder and faster. She was about to come, and I wanted to come with her. I raised her legs over my shoulders so that I had a better angle at the depths of her tight hole, and started ramming as hard as I could.

"Don't stop! I think I'm gonna come! Oh-h-h, its so good! Come in me! Oh, please, I want to feel your load in me!" Lisa screamed. She bucked and reared and screamed incoherently, then went limp. I continued to pump. In just a few seconds, she began to pump anew. For more times than I could count, she orgasmed.

Once I felt my ****** approaching, I gave her one last hard ram and drove my weapon in as far as I could. I came at this point, spurting her sweet, tender Steve **** full of my hot sticky come, like an erupting volcano. She gasped, trembled, and fell back to the bed. I pulled out my softening ****. Our ****** energies were spent for the moment.

I glanced down at the foot of the bed, and saw Julie, whom I had forgotten. She sat in the chair at the foot of the bed, her legs spread, working a coke bottle in and out of her *****. She had found the KY jelly, then found us ******* away. Feeling left out but excited by the ****** sight of her best friend getting a good *******, she slicked up the coke bottle and began using it as a *****.

I saw that Lisa also was seeing something she had never seen before, her best friend's ****, gaping open, a coke bottle almost disappearing inside it. "Look how far in she puts it! And see how big it is to go in her like that. How does she do it?" Lisa asked, amazed.

"Why don't you get a closer look," I suggested. "Ask her." Lisa crawled down to the foot of the bed and sat on the end, astounded, watching Julie *******.

Julie finally looked down, under heavy-lidded eyes and saw Lisa so close. "Why don't you do this for me?" Julie asked.

"How?" Lisa queried.

"Just do what I'm doing now," came Julie's reply. Lisa watched for a few seconds more, then pushed Julie's hand aside and grasped the slippery end of the bottle. "In and out, and twist it a little bit. Oh, yes-s-s, oh, yes-s-s. Do it good, oh, that's so good!" Julie purred.

My **** was hardening again at the sight of one female ******* another.

I had an idea. If Julie was as promiscuous as she seemed, she might not object to what I had in mind. While Lisa continued to work the bottle in Julie's stretched ****, I helped Julie out of the chair and down to the floor, her heaving **** on the floor, her *** up in the air. She stayed in the position, crooning wordlessly, **** juice dribbling down her thighs, Lisa still ******* her.

I picked up the tube of KY jelly that Julie had used, and liberally covered my ***** rod with it. Then I stood behind Julie, straddling Lisa.

"What are you going to do?" Lisa asked.

"Watch and see!" I responded. With that I grasped Julie's hips and aimed my **** at the delicate rosette of Julie's ***. Using my **** like a weapon, I suddenly shoved my tool in as far as I could. Julie let out a scream, tearing out fistfuls of carpet.

"Oh God, **** my ***! That hurts so good! **** me harder, give me all you've got! Make it hurt! Give me more of that bottle!"

"I'm ***-******* Julie!" I informed Lisa, who was now completely mind-blown.

I needed no invitation, and neither did Lisa. Both of us gave Julie all we could, Lisa with the bottle in Julie's ****, me with my **** far up Julie's clenching ***. Julie rocked back to take us both in, then forward, then back for more. I couldn't see
Eugene Isahi Nov 2018
FAKE FRIENDS

You call me a friend, as you pull out a knife
You stab me in the back, not once but twice
Friends for life, but that’s a straight up lie
You aint gotta clue, about Ride or Die

I’m surrounded by wolves that are dressed like sheep
Telling straight lies, dry snitching on me
Claiming it wasn’t you, behind the line up glass
You straight pointed out me, to save your own ***

I’d rather sweat buckets, to search out peace
Than spilling gallons of blood, fighting demons in me
The battle continues, frighten the anger within
It’s a full time job, dealing with FAKE *** FRIENDS

Ever time I think I know, what you’ll do next
You end up selling me out, for a yard or less
You made you a dollar, so I’m screaming again
You’re a straight up punk, a FAKE *** FRIEND      

I can sit and formulate a plan in my head
Take a ****** shot; make your FAKE *** DEAD
Now I’m on the run, a fugitive at large
Aint a FAKE *** FRIEND around, worth taking a charge

Their a dime a dozen, you can find them anywhere
Just don’t be fooled, because its buyer beware
It’s a known street rule, don’t say it wasn’t said
Because FAKE *** FRIENDS, usually wined up dead

But ill take what GOD gave me common sense, and walk away
It’s a soft *** move, but Ill write another day
Not locked up covered up, dealing with my sins
Nothing wrong with cutting off, a FAKE *** FRIEND

Aint a chick or dude around, can’t relate to what I’m saying
We all had friends, which were straight perpetrating
Saying they got our back, all the way to the end
Same ole same ole, just a FAKE *** FRIEND

So now I ride solo, I know it’s a risk
If push comes to shove, Ill add my girl to the list
Now I’m RICH and FAMOUS, and you wanna make amends
But as I told you before, **** FAKE *** FRIENDS!
Wesley Willis Jan 2014
Batman got on my nerves
He was running me amok
He ridiculed me calling me a ***

I wupped Batman's ***
I wupped Batman's ***
I wupped Batman's ***
I wupped Batman's ***
I wupped Batman's ***
I wupped Batman's ***

Batman thought he was bad
He was a ******* ******* in the first place
He got knocked to the floor

I wupped Batman's *** (5x)

Batman beat the hell out of me and knocked me to the floor
I got back up and knocked him to the floor
He was being such a *******

I wupped Batman's *** (11x)

— The End —