Bieber to Officiate Cedarville 10K
By Dustin Ruxefjord
Evening Gazette Staff Writer
Cedarville - Critically-acclaimed international pop star Justin Bieber will officiate this year's Annual Cedarville 10K in downtown Cedarville, Maryland, The Evening Gazette has just confirmed. Bieber, 15, will fire the starting gun of the yearly event and hand out trophies to the winners of all age- and gender-related competitions, including the Open 10K, which is open to all competitors, except those who race professionally.
"This is quite a coup for the Cedarville 10K," said Harry Papp, the race's organizer, as well as one of its most feared competitors. "To have someone of Justin's - nay, Mr. Bieber's - stature and talent officiating our little race is...wow, I just can't put it into words."
But the events' combatants are not the only ones excited by Bieber's appearance - the ultra-talented singer is a major sex symbol to pre-teen girls, desperate homosexuals of both sexes, and pedophiles the world over. The turnout for this year's event is expected to exceed those of the race's entire 215-year history combined. Especially as there will be a special incentive for those who show up to compete, according to Bieber himself.
Reached by telephone this week, Bieber had this to say: "Yo! What up, Cedarville! East side! Thank you for having me and thank you to all the fans. And just to up the ante, the top 5 finishers in each category will receive free front-row tickets to my concert the following night, with the winner of the Open Category receiving the privilege of hanging for the day with yours truly. Peace out, my Cedarville homies!"
The Annual Cedarville 10K will be held on June 19th, weather permitting. The starting gun will go off at 8:03 a.m. after a performance of "One Less Lonely Girl" by Bieber. Competitors and spectators may sign up for the event at the Cedarville Community Center; fees are $25 for runners and $15 for spectators. Good luck to all who participate.
Pamela Pohanka contributed to this report.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Event(ful(l))
Mike walked quickly back from the door, cracking his neck left and right so hard that Mark thought the gigantic, beige mole on the side of his nose was going to fall off. "They're lined up around the corner! Woo hoo! Good times!" he squealed. He glanced over at the basket full of hundreds of ebony dildoes. "Though I'm not so sure about those-"
"Relax," said Mark. "You're going to sell more of those black mambas today than you will your beloved comics in the next ten years-"
Mike sniggered. "We'll see. And we need to get this place back in order-"
"For crying out loud, Mike, relax! It'll all be taken care of." Mark looked around the store, which was empty but for the table towards the back, the basket full of dildoes, two chairs, and two small stepladders. The store's inventory and shelves were neatly stacked and pressed against the walls. "Ladies!" Mark called. "Are you ready?"
"Just another minute-" a voice sirened from behind the door that led to the booths.
"Let 'em in," said Mark.
At which Mike went back to the front door, his elbows and wrists popping all the way, and turned the lock. He stood by and collected and inspected all 70 tickets from Cedarville's most perverted men, all regular customers and known either by name or face or both to both Mike and Mark. As the last customer made his way into the throng breathing heavily into what little space was left, Mike locked the front door, pulled the shade, and reclaimed his spot by Mark. He looked at the table. "I sure hope that thing doesn't break," he whispered.
"It's tested for a metric ton, there won't be any problem." Mark jumped down from the register stand and stuck his head through the door leading to the booths. He shut the door and turned to face 70 smiles of all ages, races, orientations, widths, and varying stages of toothlessness. He'd never seen so many debauched men in his life and was suddenly thankful that he didn't have to look at their faces as he sucked them off through the gloryhole of Booth 3.
He cleared his throat. "Gentleman, BJ's would like to thank you for coming today. In just a minute, you will be treated to a live performance by Miss Jane Sheckleton and Mrs. Dana Callahan of their now-famous double-headed double dildo mutual masturbation scene from their acclaimed production, Nasty, Dirty Anal Cunt Sluts, Volume 18. And as I can see from the bulges in your pants-" a collective laugh went up from the group of jostling men - "you're more than ready. Well, so are they. Without further ado, I present to you Miss Jane Sheckleton and Mrs. Dana Callahan."
The back door opened and out squeezed the two morbidly obese porn stars, who didn't look so morbidly obese squeezed into two of the largest teddies - or were they slender tents? - known to man. A sonic holler and whoop rose to the ceiling, shaking BJ's very foundations. The women bowed and asked for silence.
"Thank you," said Dana. "Before we begin, we'd like to introduce our assistant, Miss Katleen Werner. Miss Werner is the newest addition to the roster of DoubleStuff Productions and will be making her debut this fall in Ginger Clit-Lickers from Mars, the Planet Almost as Red as a Ginger Girl's Period. Miss Katleen Werner!"
A hush settled over the crowd of men, their mouths agape as a petite, auburn-haired girl, who couldn't have been more than nineteen years old, stepped stark naked from the behind the back door. After another minute of cross-eyed ogling, erecting boners, and crotch self-massages, the men cheered. Katleen bowed and laughed, her enormous breasts, which almost hid the rest of her body, jiggling up and down like two mini-planets hit by comets simultaneously.
"Are those real?" a man yelled.
"100%!" said Mark. And he wouldn't have believed it himself if Katleen hadn't let him put his taut 4 inches between them until he'd come in her mouth earlier that morning, just before Mike arrived. They were almost as squishy as the fat rolls on Jane and Dana's backs, which he'd also fucked several hours earlier. "And no touching!"
The men laughed and hee'd and haw'd until their boners were almost extinct. As they quieted down, Dana removed her glasses and gave them to Katleen, who held them in her left hand, as her right hand was already occupied - by a small knife. Dana looked to Jane and nodded. Then both ladies removed their high heels, took to the step ladders, and after several grunting attempts, stepped onto the large padded table.
Slowly, they removed their teddies one button at a time, their bodies grinding the air around them, the waffled, stretch-marked flesh underneath springing out with audible sighs. They threw their teddies into the crowd of jumping men, then turned and bent over, revealing two of the largest combination dildo-butt plugs in the history of mankind. Each half measured at least eight inches in diameter, from what Mark could tell; his asshole ached with jealousy as the women moaned in unison and poop-queefed the sex toys out onto the table beneath, their holes momentarily black, breathing, inviting tunnels.
They rose up and embraced. Their tongues found each other in a messy kiss of over-applied lipstick that smeared their faces as they ground their humongous rolls of belly fat together. They made their way down into a simultaneous squat, the table creaking as they sat back on their asses facing one another, their legs spread, the soles of their feet glued one to the other. Katleen suddenly appeared, four 24-inch, ebony, double-headed dildoes in her polite, little hands. But before inserting them, she hunched over the table and went to work on each lady's clit, snarling and growling as she attacked each, biting, sucking, and clawing with her tongue.
When Jane and Dana's cunts and assholes were sopping wet with Kathleen's spittle, the young girl took her time and smilingly inserted two dildoes into each of the women's holes. The shiny black mambas were defenseless and quickly devoured by the stunningly muscled orifices of the two porn queens, who slid back and forth on the dildoes, their crotches kissing briefly, until they picked up so much speed that their cunts were never untouching for more than a half-second.
The men were silenced with awe. The only sound to escape from them were muffled grunts - actually, this came from only one man, way in the back - and the scratching of hands against jeans and khakis. Until someone finally called out, "Can we jerk off?"
Mark looked to the crowd and met 140 eyes pleading with him. He looked to the man grunting in the back. "Detective Vinos!"
"Detective Jorge T. Vinos!"
"Detective Jorge T. Vinos! Do you think it'd be-"
"I'll ask the questions, Mister Dennison!"
Mark looked at Mike, who looked back at him and mouthed, "What the fuck?" Mark grinned. Then looked back to the detective. "Well, we're all consenting adults here and no one can see us-" Detective Vinos was nodding approval "-so yeah, go ahead."
"Where do we come? On the floor?"
"Hmm-"
Jane and Dana stopped abruptly, their thick cunts mashed together and hiding the stuffed, suffocated dildoes. Dana whispered something to Katleen, who bounced over to Mark and whispered in his ear. "No problem," said Mark. He ran through the back door and reappeared moments later with a bucket. He handed it to the man who had asked if they could jerk off. "Use this bucket. Just pass it around as you need it. And when you're done-" he nodded to the table "-give it to Katleen. The ladies have a surprise for you-"
"Oh, fuck!"
"Oh, shit!"
"Hell, yeah!"
"Cum on dem bitches-"
"Bucket, please!" And it was passed back to the fellow who'd come in with Detective Vinos, a rather short, stocky man in a baggy plaid shirt and khakis. He made the first deposit and passed it to the next hand to be raised.
Dana and Jane began where they left off. Their sweaty rolls squeaked louder than the table with every lightning-quick thrust that seemed it would be the death of them - or the table. Mark thought he could smell burnt latex wafting from the friction between their cunts and assholes. And could've sworn that the two gigantic black mambas were smoking. But before he could confirm either sensation, he was distracted by a sight he wished he could unsee: Mike had dropped his shorts to the floor and was furiously working the smallest cock Mark had ever seen between two slender, red, cracking fingers, a cock so tiny that it re-defined micro-penis and buoyed Mark with the confidence of a multi-million dollar porn star.
The bucket began to change hands quicker and quicker, a plastic crowd-surfer, as the porn queens picked up steam - yes! that was a slight stream of smoke emanating from the burning mambas - and Katleen dropped the knife and glasses and joined in, her hands working her clit, her mouth working each woman's cunt in turn. Until the whole store was thrown into a mist of sweat, cum, cunt juice, ass juice, and a cacophony of moans and grunts that ended only when Jane and Dana let out two orgasmic howls that sent the last drops of semen - from Mike! - into the bucket. The men hollered and yelped and jumped up and down and pushed each other, briefly creating a miniature porn mosh pit that quickly subsided into ooh's and aah's as the bucket passed finally to Mark, who'd been giggling too much to get hard and shoot yet another load that day.
Katleen grabbed the bucket and ran over to the ladies. Gently, she turned the bucket over and spread its contents on the heaving bellies of her leading ladies, rubbing it between the flabs of skin until it was dry and they had regained their breaths. Katleen picked up the knife and carefully sliced the four dildoes in half, the four now eight and all lodged tightly in their respective holes. The ladies rolled over and pulled the chairs up to the table. They sat down and accepted ice-cold bottles of water from Mark. They placed the towels Katleen had retrieved around their necks and opened the markers supplied to them by Mike.
Mark stepped to the front of the table. "Well, how'd you like that?" The men applauded and yelled out obscenities that made the ladies blush with gratitude. "Now, Miss Sheckleton and Mrs. Callahan have been kind enough to agree to sign autographs on these here-" Mark pointed to the large basket full of hundreds of black, double-headed dildoes, each neatly wrapped in cellophane "-the price for each is forty dollars-"
Some of the men booed. "Why so steep?" yelled one.
"I'm glad you asked." Mark smiled. He picked up one of the dildoes and held it out in front of him. "Each dildo here has been used personally by Miss Sheckleton AND Mrs. Callahan. And the forty dollar price includes the signing fee-"
"Bullshit!"
Dana pushed her glasses onto her face and stood up, grabbing the dildo from Mark. "It's not bullshit. Every single one of these dildoes has been in both of our cunts and assholes. Both ends. We got here early this morning and fucked each and every one of them. I guarantee it." She sat down and handed the dildo back to Mark.
"Gentleman, this is a collector's item. No one else in the world except you men can say that they own an authentic double-headed dildo used by both Jane Sheckleton and Dana Callahan. And when you get your hands on one - or when you get it home and look over it closely - you'll see for yourself that each one is lovingly layered in these fine ladies' cunt and ass juices." Mark squeezed the dildo in his hand and it almost slipped out onto the floor.
The men rumbled, but this time their grumbling was accompanied by energetic shrugs and nods. Hands suddenly went up in the air, requesting 70 dildoes. "Now, listen," said Mark, "I'd suggest you buy two or three at this great price. Keep one as a collectible and the others you can use in the bedroom on your wife or your girlfriend or-"
"Or ourselves!"
The room grew so quiet one could've heard another butt plug drop. All the men turned to the man who had shouted: Detective Jorge T. Vinos!
"Faggot!" shouted someone. And the men howled, their laughing vibrating the hardwood floors of BJ's. Mark watched Detective Vinos shrink back in horror, his grunts audible amongst the jovial laughter. He shook his head.
"Fellas! Fellas!" Jane Sheckleton stood up. When all were quiet, she continued: "For an extra ten dollars, you can crawl under the table and get a lick or two of our cunts and assholes, including Miss Werner's." The men cheered at this, looking at each other in giddy amazement. "But you have to buy at least two dildoes. And please, when you're eating our cunts and asses, do not bite or nibble on the dildoes inside us. Or you'll get a golden -and brown!- shower that you'll never forget."
Within minutes, the basket was empty, each man holding several dildoes. Mark's pocket was full of bills, and he and Mike looked on as the first two men in line made their way under the table. Katleen sat on the floor at the end of the table, her legs spread and wrapped around the table legs, the knife coyly dangling in her fingers. "Well," said Mike, "you did it-"
"You certainly did, Mister Dennison-"
Mike and Mark looked up. Detective Jorge T. Vinos stood next to them, his pants stained with cum, at least five dildoes in the crook of his arm. Next to him was his companion who'd accompanied him, his pants also stained with cum. And ketchup. "Mr. Vin-"
"Detective Jorge T. Vinos!"
"Detective Jorge T. Vinos!" Mark yelled. "Do you know Mike?"
"I'll ask the questions, Mister Dennison!" Detective Vinos switched the dildoes noisily to his other arm. He cleared his throat. "Yes, I know the proprietor of this establishment."
"And who is this, your boyfriend?"
"I'll ask the questions, Mister Dennison! I'm not a homosexual!" Detective Vinos looked to his companion, who was giggling, his cheeks flushed. "I'd like to introduce you to my partner, Detective Jerry Wead! He's been assigned to the missing persons cases, along with yours truly, of your friends, Dick Cox and Dill Doublepound-"
"Are those really their names?" whispered Mike.
"Oh, yeah, I tried calling Dick's cell phone the other night, but I got nothing-"
"Oh, did you, Mister Dennison? That's very suspicious behavior, Mister Dennison, calling missing persons-"
"Why is it suspicious that I tried my friend's phone because I want him found just as badly as you do?"
"I'll ask the questions, Mister Dennison!" The detective looked to his partner, just catching a roll of the man's eyes and a shake of his head in his peripheral vision, and let out a series of almost completely uninhibited grunts and barks. He shifted the dildoes to his other arm and leaned in towards Mark. He looked around sheepishly. And whispered, "How much for those butt plug-dildo thingies on the floor?"
"Relax," said Mark. "You're going to sell more of those black mambas today than you will your beloved comics in the next ten years-"
Mike sniggered. "We'll see. And we need to get this place back in order-"
"For crying out loud, Mike, relax! It'll all be taken care of." Mark looked around the store, which was empty but for the table towards the back, the basket full of dildoes, two chairs, and two small stepladders. The store's inventory and shelves were neatly stacked and pressed against the walls. "Ladies!" Mark called. "Are you ready?"
"Just another minute-" a voice sirened from behind the door that led to the booths.
"Let 'em in," said Mark.
At which Mike went back to the front door, his elbows and wrists popping all the way, and turned the lock. He stood by and collected and inspected all 70 tickets from Cedarville's most perverted men, all regular customers and known either by name or face or both to both Mike and Mark. As the last customer made his way into the throng breathing heavily into what little space was left, Mike locked the front door, pulled the shade, and reclaimed his spot by Mark. He looked at the table. "I sure hope that thing doesn't break," he whispered.
"It's tested for a metric ton, there won't be any problem." Mark jumped down from the register stand and stuck his head through the door leading to the booths. He shut the door and turned to face 70 smiles of all ages, races, orientations, widths, and varying stages of toothlessness. He'd never seen so many debauched men in his life and was suddenly thankful that he didn't have to look at their faces as he sucked them off through the gloryhole of Booth 3.
He cleared his throat. "Gentleman, BJ's would like to thank you for coming today. In just a minute, you will be treated to a live performance by Miss Jane Sheckleton and Mrs. Dana Callahan of their now-famous double-headed double dildo mutual masturbation scene from their acclaimed production, Nasty, Dirty Anal Cunt Sluts, Volume 18. And as I can see from the bulges in your pants-" a collective laugh went up from the group of jostling men - "you're more than ready. Well, so are they. Without further ado, I present to you Miss Jane Sheckleton and Mrs. Dana Callahan."
The back door opened and out squeezed the two morbidly obese porn stars, who didn't look so morbidly obese squeezed into two of the largest teddies - or were they slender tents? - known to man. A sonic holler and whoop rose to the ceiling, shaking BJ's very foundations. The women bowed and asked for silence.
"Thank you," said Dana. "Before we begin, we'd like to introduce our assistant, Miss Katleen Werner. Miss Werner is the newest addition to the roster of DoubleStuff Productions and will be making her debut this fall in Ginger Clit-Lickers from Mars, the Planet Almost as Red as a Ginger Girl's Period. Miss Katleen Werner!"
A hush settled over the crowd of men, their mouths agape as a petite, auburn-haired girl, who couldn't have been more than nineteen years old, stepped stark naked from the behind the back door. After another minute of cross-eyed ogling, erecting boners, and crotch self-massages, the men cheered. Katleen bowed and laughed, her enormous breasts, which almost hid the rest of her body, jiggling up and down like two mini-planets hit by comets simultaneously.
"Are those real?" a man yelled.
"100%!" said Mark. And he wouldn't have believed it himself if Katleen hadn't let him put his taut 4 inches between them until he'd come in her mouth earlier that morning, just before Mike arrived. They were almost as squishy as the fat rolls on Jane and Dana's backs, which he'd also fucked several hours earlier. "And no touching!"
The men laughed and hee'd and haw'd until their boners were almost extinct. As they quieted down, Dana removed her glasses and gave them to Katleen, who held them in her left hand, as her right hand was already occupied - by a small knife. Dana looked to Jane and nodded. Then both ladies removed their high heels, took to the step ladders, and after several grunting attempts, stepped onto the large padded table.
Slowly, they removed their teddies one button at a time, their bodies grinding the air around them, the waffled, stretch-marked flesh underneath springing out with audible sighs. They threw their teddies into the crowd of jumping men, then turned and bent over, revealing two of the largest combination dildo-butt plugs in the history of mankind. Each half measured at least eight inches in diameter, from what Mark could tell; his asshole ached with jealousy as the women moaned in unison and poop-queefed the sex toys out onto the table beneath, their holes momentarily black, breathing, inviting tunnels.
They rose up and embraced. Their tongues found each other in a messy kiss of over-applied lipstick that smeared their faces as they ground their humongous rolls of belly fat together. They made their way down into a simultaneous squat, the table creaking as they sat back on their asses facing one another, their legs spread, the soles of their feet glued one to the other. Katleen suddenly appeared, four 24-inch, ebony, double-headed dildoes in her polite, little hands. But before inserting them, she hunched over the table and went to work on each lady's clit, snarling and growling as she attacked each, biting, sucking, and clawing with her tongue.
When Jane and Dana's cunts and assholes were sopping wet with Kathleen's spittle, the young girl took her time and smilingly inserted two dildoes into each of the women's holes. The shiny black mambas were defenseless and quickly devoured by the stunningly muscled orifices of the two porn queens, who slid back and forth on the dildoes, their crotches kissing briefly, until they picked up so much speed that their cunts were never untouching for more than a half-second.
The men were silenced with awe. The only sound to escape from them were muffled grunts - actually, this came from only one man, way in the back - and the scratching of hands against jeans and khakis. Until someone finally called out, "Can we jerk off?"
Mark looked to the crowd and met 140 eyes pleading with him. He looked to the man grunting in the back. "Detective Vinos!"
"Detective Jorge T. Vinos!"
"Detective Jorge T. Vinos! Do you think it'd be-"
"I'll ask the questions, Mister Dennison!"
Mark looked at Mike, who looked back at him and mouthed, "What the fuck?" Mark grinned. Then looked back to the detective. "Well, we're all consenting adults here and no one can see us-" Detective Vinos was nodding approval "-so yeah, go ahead."
"Where do we come? On the floor?"
"Hmm-"
Jane and Dana stopped abruptly, their thick cunts mashed together and hiding the stuffed, suffocated dildoes. Dana whispered something to Katleen, who bounced over to Mark and whispered in his ear. "No problem," said Mark. He ran through the back door and reappeared moments later with a bucket. He handed it to the man who had asked if they could jerk off. "Use this bucket. Just pass it around as you need it. And when you're done-" he nodded to the table "-give it to Katleen. The ladies have a surprise for you-"
"Oh, fuck!"
"Oh, shit!"
"Hell, yeah!"
"Cum on dem bitches-"
"Bucket, please!" And it was passed back to the fellow who'd come in with Detective Vinos, a rather short, stocky man in a baggy plaid shirt and khakis. He made the first deposit and passed it to the next hand to be raised.
Dana and Jane began where they left off. Their sweaty rolls squeaked louder than the table with every lightning-quick thrust that seemed it would be the death of them - or the table. Mark thought he could smell burnt latex wafting from the friction between their cunts and assholes. And could've sworn that the two gigantic black mambas were smoking. But before he could confirm either sensation, he was distracted by a sight he wished he could unsee: Mike had dropped his shorts to the floor and was furiously working the smallest cock Mark had ever seen between two slender, red, cracking fingers, a cock so tiny that it re-defined micro-penis and buoyed Mark with the confidence of a multi-million dollar porn star.
The bucket began to change hands quicker and quicker, a plastic crowd-surfer, as the porn queens picked up steam - yes! that was a slight stream of smoke emanating from the burning mambas - and Katleen dropped the knife and glasses and joined in, her hands working her clit, her mouth working each woman's cunt in turn. Until the whole store was thrown into a mist of sweat, cum, cunt juice, ass juice, and a cacophony of moans and grunts that ended only when Jane and Dana let out two orgasmic howls that sent the last drops of semen - from Mike! - into the bucket. The men hollered and yelped and jumped up and down and pushed each other, briefly creating a miniature porn mosh pit that quickly subsided into ooh's and aah's as the bucket passed finally to Mark, who'd been giggling too much to get hard and shoot yet another load that day.
Katleen grabbed the bucket and ran over to the ladies. Gently, she turned the bucket over and spread its contents on the heaving bellies of her leading ladies, rubbing it between the flabs of skin until it was dry and they had regained their breaths. Katleen picked up the knife and carefully sliced the four dildoes in half, the four now eight and all lodged tightly in their respective holes. The ladies rolled over and pulled the chairs up to the table. They sat down and accepted ice-cold bottles of water from Mark. They placed the towels Katleen had retrieved around their necks and opened the markers supplied to them by Mike.
Mark stepped to the front of the table. "Well, how'd you like that?" The men applauded and yelled out obscenities that made the ladies blush with gratitude. "Now, Miss Sheckleton and Mrs. Callahan have been kind enough to agree to sign autographs on these here-" Mark pointed to the large basket full of hundreds of black, double-headed dildoes, each neatly wrapped in cellophane "-the price for each is forty dollars-"
Some of the men booed. "Why so steep?" yelled one.
"I'm glad you asked." Mark smiled. He picked up one of the dildoes and held it out in front of him. "Each dildo here has been used personally by Miss Sheckleton AND Mrs. Callahan. And the forty dollar price includes the signing fee-"
"Bullshit!"
Dana pushed her glasses onto her face and stood up, grabbing the dildo from Mark. "It's not bullshit. Every single one of these dildoes has been in both of our cunts and assholes. Both ends. We got here early this morning and fucked each and every one of them. I guarantee it." She sat down and handed the dildo back to Mark.
"Gentleman, this is a collector's item. No one else in the world except you men can say that they own an authentic double-headed dildo used by both Jane Sheckleton and Dana Callahan. And when you get your hands on one - or when you get it home and look over it closely - you'll see for yourself that each one is lovingly layered in these fine ladies' cunt and ass juices." Mark squeezed the dildo in his hand and it almost slipped out onto the floor.
The men rumbled, but this time their grumbling was accompanied by energetic shrugs and nods. Hands suddenly went up in the air, requesting 70 dildoes. "Now, listen," said Mark, "I'd suggest you buy two or three at this great price. Keep one as a collectible and the others you can use in the bedroom on your wife or your girlfriend or-"
"Or ourselves!"
The room grew so quiet one could've heard another butt plug drop. All the men turned to the man who had shouted: Detective Jorge T. Vinos!
"Faggot!" shouted someone. And the men howled, their laughing vibrating the hardwood floors of BJ's. Mark watched Detective Vinos shrink back in horror, his grunts audible amongst the jovial laughter. He shook his head.
"Fellas! Fellas!" Jane Sheckleton stood up. When all were quiet, she continued: "For an extra ten dollars, you can crawl under the table and get a lick or two of our cunts and assholes, including Miss Werner's." The men cheered at this, looking at each other in giddy amazement. "But you have to buy at least two dildoes. And please, when you're eating our cunts and asses, do not bite or nibble on the dildoes inside us. Or you'll get a golden -and brown!- shower that you'll never forget."
Within minutes, the basket was empty, each man holding several dildoes. Mark's pocket was full of bills, and he and Mike looked on as the first two men in line made their way under the table. Katleen sat on the floor at the end of the table, her legs spread and wrapped around the table legs, the knife coyly dangling in her fingers. "Well," said Mike, "you did it-"
"You certainly did, Mister Dennison-"
Mike and Mark looked up. Detective Jorge T. Vinos stood next to them, his pants stained with cum, at least five dildoes in the crook of his arm. Next to him was his companion who'd accompanied him, his pants also stained with cum. And ketchup. "Mr. Vin-"
"Detective Jorge T. Vinos!"
"Detective Jorge T. Vinos!" Mark yelled. "Do you know Mike?"
"I'll ask the questions, Mister Dennison!" Detective Vinos switched the dildoes noisily to his other arm. He cleared his throat. "Yes, I know the proprietor of this establishment."
"And who is this, your boyfriend?"
"I'll ask the questions, Mister Dennison! I'm not a homosexual!" Detective Vinos looked to his companion, who was giggling, his cheeks flushed. "I'd like to introduce you to my partner, Detective Jerry Wead! He's been assigned to the missing persons cases, along with yours truly, of your friends, Dick Cox and Dill Doublepound-"
"Are those really their names?" whispered Mike.
"Oh, yeah, I tried calling Dick's cell phone the other night, but I got nothing-"
"Oh, did you, Mister Dennison? That's very suspicious behavior, Mister Dennison, calling missing persons-"
"Why is it suspicious that I tried my friend's phone because I want him found just as badly as you do?"
"I'll ask the questions, Mister Dennison!" The detective looked to his partner, just catching a roll of the man's eyes and a shake of his head in his peripheral vision, and let out a series of almost completely uninhibited grunts and barks. He shifted the dildoes to his other arm and leaned in towards Mark. He looked around sheepishly. And whispered, "How much for those butt plug-dildo thingies on the floor?"
Monday, May 3, 2010
Biebz
"Mark." Sarah stood at his bedroom door, her arms folded under her bra. "What the fuck?" She nodded to the hundreds of posters and cut-out magazine pages on his walls.
"What?"
"You like Justin Bieber or what?"
"Not his music." Mark grinned over the top of his blanket as he lay in bed. "But since he's gonna be my husband someday-"
"Yeah, right-" Sarah shook her head. And laughed.
"You'll see-" Mark giggled. Then slipped his hand under the elastic of his boxer briefs, his hand encasing his hard-on. He closed eyes, two little slits over the wide slit of his shit-eating grin.
The concert's over. Mark's finagled a backstage pass from security - by deepthroating the fat guy's short, half-limp cock in one of the 20 stalls in the bathroom just outside his section of the arena. He watches all the girls as they take turns posing for pics with Justin, sitting on his lap, their little cunts wet in their skinny jeans and panty-less mini-skirts. And as he's staring at the boy without blinking, he gets hard as the boy stares back at him without blinking the whole time.
The last girl gets her autograph on the back of her concert shirt, her ass plumped into Justin's face, which he totally ignores because he's only looking at one thing, one person, in the room. As she leaves, passing Mark giggling like a schoolgirl who's come for the first time - and she probably did because she's wobbly and because Mark's almost come himself just watching Justin watching him - the room's finally empty.
Just the two of them. Staring at each other. And smiling with a well-known secret. Justin finally sighs and lays back on the couch, stretching out his legs in his skinny jeans, his inflated cock a rumple next to his zipper. He looks down at it. Then back up at Mark, who's standing over him. He puts out a hand and pulls Mark onto him.
Straddling his new boyfriend, Mark pulls back, removes the boy's cocked hat, slowly rifles his fingers through his messy mop. He caresses one smooth cheek - as soft and hairless as his own - then falls forward, buries his tongue into the boy's mouth and is met halfway by a tongue even more urgent than his own.
Clothes rip, flying to the floor. Justin's on his knees over the back of the couch, Mark's face ensconced in his ass, which smells of soap and sweat. Mark reaches down, grabs his cock, which is now no less than a good foot of thick rope, and puts the tip to Justin's hole. He enters as he hunches forward, chest to back, his arms wrapped around the boy's slight, moaning frame, their mouths entwined in hurried exchanges of lips, tongue, and spit.
Mark pushes in until he's flush with the boy's ass. And feels it tear, top and bottom. He pulls back, pumps, and watches as it splits in half, soaking his pelvis in blood. And all he hears is the boy begging for more.
With one last thrust, he shoots three gallons of semen into Justin Bieber's guts, and they collapse, one upon the other upon the couch. And continue kissing, between giggles just like those of the girl who came earlier.
Sarah coughed. Mark opened his eyes. Then pulled his hand out of his underwear and wiped his cum on his New York Giants blanket, on the same spot hardened by months of ejaculate. He looked at his mom and shrugged, grinning.
"You're a mess," she said and shook her head.
"I know-" Mark giggled.
"What?"
"You like Justin Bieber or what?"
"Not his music." Mark grinned over the top of his blanket as he lay in bed. "But since he's gonna be my husband someday-"
"Yeah, right-" Sarah shook her head. And laughed.
"You'll see-" Mark giggled. Then slipped his hand under the elastic of his boxer briefs, his hand encasing his hard-on. He closed eyes, two little slits over the wide slit of his shit-eating grin.
The concert's over. Mark's finagled a backstage pass from security - by deepthroating the fat guy's short, half-limp cock in one of the 20 stalls in the bathroom just outside his section of the arena. He watches all the girls as they take turns posing for pics with Justin, sitting on his lap, their little cunts wet in their skinny jeans and panty-less mini-skirts. And as he's staring at the boy without blinking, he gets hard as the boy stares back at him without blinking the whole time.
The last girl gets her autograph on the back of her concert shirt, her ass plumped into Justin's face, which he totally ignores because he's only looking at one thing, one person, in the room. As she leaves, passing Mark giggling like a schoolgirl who's come for the first time - and she probably did because she's wobbly and because Mark's almost come himself just watching Justin watching him - the room's finally empty.
Just the two of them. Staring at each other. And smiling with a well-known secret. Justin finally sighs and lays back on the couch, stretching out his legs in his skinny jeans, his inflated cock a rumple next to his zipper. He looks down at it. Then back up at Mark, who's standing over him. He puts out a hand and pulls Mark onto him.
Straddling his new boyfriend, Mark pulls back, removes the boy's cocked hat, slowly rifles his fingers through his messy mop. He caresses one smooth cheek - as soft and hairless as his own - then falls forward, buries his tongue into the boy's mouth and is met halfway by a tongue even more urgent than his own.
Clothes rip, flying to the floor. Justin's on his knees over the back of the couch, Mark's face ensconced in his ass, which smells of soap and sweat. Mark reaches down, grabs his cock, which is now no less than a good foot of thick rope, and puts the tip to Justin's hole. He enters as he hunches forward, chest to back, his arms wrapped around the boy's slight, moaning frame, their mouths entwined in hurried exchanges of lips, tongue, and spit.
Mark pushes in until he's flush with the boy's ass. And feels it tear, top and bottom. He pulls back, pumps, and watches as it splits in half, soaking his pelvis in blood. And all he hears is the boy begging for more.
With one last thrust, he shoots three gallons of semen into Justin Bieber's guts, and they collapse, one upon the other upon the couch. And continue kissing, between giggles just like those of the girl who came earlier.
Sarah coughed. Mark opened his eyes. Then pulled his hand out of his underwear and wiped his cum on his New York Giants blanket, on the same spot hardened by months of ejaculate. He looked at his mom and shrugged, grinning.
"You're a mess," she said and shook her head.
"I know-" Mark giggled.
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