Saturday 29 October 2011

THE ELEVEN DAYS OF BRIAN NINE; DAY SEVEN

The Wendies came round tonight and we well had sex.  We started off slowly enough with some face gobbing and hectors pecking but soon enough we were all showing wonderful form.  All scratching each other, red stripes everywhere.  Wendy Nine scratched my legs while she knelt there and gobbed my jim dog well proper.  Big brown eyes were swinging all about as eleven tom cats were soon well keen for eleven frantic jim dogs and their dangling do jiggers.  I scratched Wendy’s bum-bum and little mary  while all around us happy hampton wicks swung and plunged playing with golden doughnuts exposed and plugged.  There was heaving form everywhere, and much righteous scratching and it was well stinky and noisy.  Heaving backs and red prayer bones and soft bouncing norks filled the flat, straining and gasping discussing Uganda intensely.  We were way beyond bustle pinching, Wendy was a right bart after her dogging around; she was well lickerish and I thoroughly made her with my best night baseball.  It was like reading eleven eight pagers at once and soon I was cornificating to the max with red raw stripes livid over everyone’s wet sweaty flesh.
            Later, well knackered and with the windows open, we had some wine and watched The Tortelli’s.  Ma Tortelli had got bail from her shouting mother and Pa Tortelli was all sober and well sorry and they had primitive and brief sex under heavy blankets.  

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