An ADULT bedtime storybook story…
It’s been a long hard ride, a few good guys riding side by side. One could just slide past where they reside. Vague directions from an ancestor, but finally, there it was front and center.
They stand before The Breast Western. A bed and breakfast. Well, more of an inn. A sinning inn, and in sin they go in.
Meet Alice, with the alias of Alex Gallup.
“Welcome to the swollen phallus palace! Home of the callused cowboys!” She cried with a smile a mile wide. She screamed; it seemed like a scene the team dreamed.
“Unbuckle my muzzle and suckle my subtle guzzle knuckle,” the uncle mumbled and let out a drunken chuckle. “Let me juggle your snuggle tunnel Honeysuckle. Maybe fumble your tinkle wrinkle?” A wiggle and a giggle and they were on their way.
For the next trick, the son of the first: Hoedini, the teasing sleaze from Belize with no sleeves who was lousy with the Japanese Trapeze Disease. Just one sneeze precedes a fever of many degrees, dry heaves that lead to nosebleeds and for some reason: fleas.
But still, Even OGs beg, “Please, I have Frontline tickets to the flea show. Sounds like a hopping good time; I’m just itching to go.” All for one more go on that ‘ya know’ rodeo
Ask papa Jeeves, he’s next and he sees that herpes Slurpee from a murky hermie, and begs, “please. Chinese? Japanese?” Well-worn knees and breath of fromunda cheese will meet his needs. He’s just standing there with a shit eating grin. Her fart box is begging for a tongue punching and he’s a chart topper, the king shart gargler. This dude is no boob noob, son. A sucker for a nipple. And hers are as big as areola 51.
Just one man left, but he has to choose, he scans the room and sees who’s who.
Theres some dumb thot with a blood clot the size of a kumquat doing the fox trot. “I can’t go tamperin’ with a tampon champion. No pulling strings! She’s low on potassium!”
He looks around and thinks it’s time for fun when he sees the next one.
She might be the cleanest penis genius but she has a meaner weiner demeanor than the rest. She’ll drop kick that joystick real quick. Testicular tap dance, hog cloggin’ if you will. No matter how you cut it it’ll end in abrupt eruption disruption. Hard to function at this conjunction.
Bursting at the seams with a steamin’ seamen demon, he’s ready to make his choice. He sees a dime and can rejoice. The egyptian bitch binging on bulges divulges, “a quick-flip of the dipstick makes me an addict.” A quick quip and a wink. Talk about an unquenchable general genital jezebel with flexible ethics y’all!
Unloaded and grinnin’ the men know they’ll return. Once or twice each to The Breast Western.