Wet is Wet

Dapperguy

The Egoist
Joined
Sep 23, 2022
Posts
555
I am pissed off right now! Today, that is, this morning, to be precise, I was entertaining a Slut bottom to a good, ball-deep session of anal sex. I was really enjoying my exercise, when, of a sudden, the Slut began to moan and groan and gasp. I thought my ingress and egress of his hole was stimulating his milk churn, and soon he was going squirt like a water feature in some suburban garden. I was so misguided by my analysis. I was between an ingress and an egress when there was a loud detonation from the area where my cock was doing its work, and then there was an overwhelming, excruciating, unbearable and beastly excremental all encompassing odour, that was inhumane in its rigour. This was followed by a burbling and blattering sound, originating from the Slut’s rear end, which, to my horror was followed by a stream of watery and gritty jet of hot diarrhoea, that splattered, with great gusto, off my stomach and hitting my chest. The varnished wooden floor where I was fucking the Slut was daubed with lines of stinking watery excrement.
Once I recovered my wits, I asked him had he given himself a soap and tepid water enema, before visiting me this morning. He replied in the affirmative, which was puzzling. However, he did confess that for his Sunday lunch (30th July 23) he had consumed a King Prawn Vindaloo Indian Curry, washed down with 8 pints of Guinness. Also, he confessed for his Dinner he'd had jellied eels in mayo on a bed of kale on hot toast, washed down with another 4 pints of Guinness. He thought some of what he had eaten and drank may have upset his delicate stomach.
Why, O, why do some bottoms pay no regard to their culinary intake the day before they are err-marked for good and deep anal penetration. After he had cleaned me, the floor and himself of the foul smelling substance, I rounded the morning off by giving a robust hand spanking of his bottom, with a studded leather glove.

This why I am so pissed off.
 
Are you sure you had the right recipe?
What the jelly bean, do you mean? I only feed my Slut subs my semen! You think you're a cocky comedic top, don't you? Well, you're as funny as a dentist’s chair, you unfunny titter. Have you ever been showered in watery and gritty stinking rotten diarrhoea? No, you haven’t. Wait until your fucking a big fat arse from which a tidal wave of stinking, rotten, brown watery and gritty diarrhoea splatters your body, before you come here with your toilet humour
 
Disgusting and repulsive content. I stumbled upon this forum yesterday and read a few threads. Swollen bile emanated from my intestines, triggering a sense of discomfort. I reacted, "These nasty, perverted fucks!" Immediately, I signed up.
 
So, you're another interfering smug milk drinker, who has not one empathetic bone in your stinking body. I for one am dissonated by the rumblings of the intestines of another snaggled-bellied complete stranger, who forces his, not so quite lucid, opinions on a real-life event of a fellow pervert. This has gone too far. I come on to this wonderfully robust and perpendicular platform to vent my spleen about inadequates who spoil the machinations of my humdrum felicitations to fellow perverts and dyed-in-the-wool debauchees. There is no rugged and unfeigned discourse of a common purpose or sickening and licentious parsimony that leads to a commonweal. No, all is vapour and transient, as when one breaks wind in surreptitious environments. Or, when one picks fluff out of one’s enraptured navel with a stainless steel toothpick, only to find your celebrity status mutes all positive dialectical discourse and political intercourse. I am miffed.
 
So, you're another interfering smug milk drinker, who has not one empathetic bone in your stinking body. I for one am dissonated by the rumblings of the intestines of another snaggled-bellied complete stranger, who forces his, not so quite lucid, opinions on a real-life event of a fellow pervert. This has gone too far. I come on to this wonderfully robust and perpendicular platform to vent my spleen about inadequates who spoil the machinations of my humdrum felicitations to fellow perverts and dyed-in-the-wool debauchees. There is no rugged and unfeigned discourse of a common purpose or sickening and licentious parsimony that leads to a commonweal. No, all is vapour and transient, as when one breaks wind in surreptitious environments. Or, when one picks fluff out of one’s enraptured navel with a stainless steel toothpick, only to find your celebrity status mutes all positive dialectical discourse and political intercourse. I am miffed.
Jeepers Creepers! How dare you squirt those heebie-jeebies on me using big words! And for your information, forum aficionado, I'm testing the portal cesspool temperature to see if I should take a dip.
 
I'll Jeepers Creepers! My solicitations are of extreme didacticism and reflect the opulence of the English idiom, without the contamination of vacillation or incongruity of vernacular or local dialects. So there!
 
My ex-fuckbuddy is an author. She composed several books solo, half of a dozen with a friend.

Her first novel was a success! However, her subsequent one served as a hint of a downward trajectory. She began to use large words repeatedly. Ugh. The text was comprehensible to a college graduate or a literary critic; however, the average reader encountered a challenging task.

By her third book, it was over. Almost every paragraph was plagued with difficult words.

Imo, it's smashing to ejaculate big words in the reader's eyes and splatter them over her mind. But give her space to breathe. Having to look up a word in every sentence will cause a loss of interest in the story. Or conversation. You'd rather be balls deep inside her mind and not fist her asshole on that first date. Unless she's Anal Warrior.
 
(Backs slowly out of thread!)

Poor Bastard...I Think. o_O
 
My ex-fuckbuddy is an author. She composed several books solo, half of a dozen with a friend.

Her first novel was a success! However, her subsequent one served as a hint of a downward trajectory. She began to use large words repeatedly. Ugh. The text was comprehensible to a college graduate or a literary critic; however, the average reader encountered a challenging task.

By her third book, it was over. Almost every paragraph was plagued with difficult words.

Imo, it's smashing to ejaculate big words in the reader's eyes and splatter them over her mind. But give her space to breathe. Having to look up a word in every sentence will cause a loss of interest in the story. Or conversation. You'd rather be balls deep inside her mind and not fist her asshole on that first date. Unless she's Anal Warrior.
I do concur with every pronouncement reposed in your promulgated soliloquy. However, it is erroneous to propone such a juxtaposed opine. It is a divergent dedication you serendipitously elucidate with exuberant fervency. However, no dissonant Socratic dialetic can be lubrugious or infrangible in terms of human discourse, grammar and lexicon. Therefore, my concordant interjection.
 
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