Love-yoghurt

"I am aiming my big veiny howitzer at your lovely firm melons..."
I was on the phone to Justine. Roger had given me some coaching.
"Yes!" breathed Justine.
"...I'm stroking its throbbing barrel as you pull on my plums with your dainty little hands..."
"Yes!"
"...I can feel the pressure building. My balls feel like they're going to explode..."
"Yes!"
"...its coming..."
"Yes!"
"...its coming!.."
"Yes!"
"...I'm firing tons of love-yoghurt all over your chest and neck. I'm coming so hard that my balls have been sucked up my dicktube..."
"What?"
"...they're firing out of my japseye with enormous velocity..."
"Huh?"
"... they've blown two perfectly round holes in your abdomen. My plums are now rebounding on their elastic sperm tubes and firing straight back into my cock, taking you with them..."
"You sick bastard!" she said and hung up.
"But I haven't got to the really good bit yet," I said, to no-one in particular.

 

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