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“Pussy, cunt, vagina, whatever you want to call it, that was what I, Johnny Johnson Jones was playing with, thrusting my nimble fingers into it. It was wet, it was moist, it was delicious. It was fantastic, bishop, I tell you.”

“Well, tell me more, my blessed child”

“her name was Flapping. Flapping Helmet”

“I know the girl in question”

” I saw her when she was know as Bell-end Squirting Jism. She used to work in a go-go bar, “Bouncy Boobies” I think it was called. It made my goo white, seeing her puffies (large nipples), and watching her licking her colleague’s pussy lips in a dancing act of wild abandon. I think her colleague was called Todger. Todger Fucking Penis, in fact. It was a stage name of course. She wore a white blouse, with no bra, which made my bollocks drippy, I found. I almost shot my load when Bell-end left the stage and came over to whisper in my ear. She said, kartal escort “I am Bell-end Squirting Jism. I’m spurting erect and a gaper purple-headed mountain from Bristol. Come and see me after the show.” She shimmied off. I watched her silk stockings rise up and down those gorgeous legs. What a woman! The crowd cheered as she re-entered the spotlight, and the hot lights bounced off her glittering pendulous breasts.

“Bell-end” I thought, “what a nice name!”

I went to the bar and ordered a cream-pie facial fuck-hole. It was a kind of cocktail. I sipped on the cream-pie facial, and watched the rest of the show. I was so excited to be soon to meet Bell-end after it had finished. My love-rod, my pleasure-tool started to twitch, and I began spanking the monkey, surreptitiously, with thoughts of fingering her wet quim, her pink clit throbbing through kaynarca escort her panties, and hearing her moaning as her soft buttocks slid up and down my probing fingers.

“ah, you were spanking the monkey. You were bashing the bishop. I have tried that myself sometimes! Well, before I became a bishop that is! So what happened backstage later, when you finally got to grips with Ball-end?”

“er, it was Bell-end, bishop”

“oh sorry. Do go on.”

“well, when the show had finished, some of the punters threw flowers onstage. Bell-end graciously gathered them into her arms, and stuffed them into the top of her boots, groaning “oh I love these flowers. They make me want to cum”. Her miniskirt rode up, displaying her curtains beneath her parted pink panties. The crowd was gasping, “breasts! Bristols! pointy nipples! prodding our eyes kozyatağı escort with wave after wave of undulating delicious womanhood!”

Wave after wave it was indeed, and many of the crowd were flooding their pants, ejaculating wildly into hankies, socks, tissues, whatever they could get a hold of. The tablecloths were ruined by their thrusting arse creamy panties.”

” yes, yes, but get to the point, Johnny J. Jones! What happened backstage?”

“oh yes, backstage. Well bishop, you would hardly believe it. Butthole belly-button licking out fanny-fart sucking labia doggy-style ice-cube squirty cream bell-end suckling kissing licking stimulating Cliff Richard carrot up his butt…”

“really?”

“that’s not all, bishop. twat sat on his love-rod masturbating pink poppy. Riding cum cumming tits soapy tit-wank ice-cream blowjob, but her ass big luscious curves smell like a grapefruit red hot mama fucking and panting screwing high court judge poo poo trumpets and a big mouse happy bird.”

“well, my child, your story appalls me. May you say ten hail Marys and begone. I never wish to hear such depravity again”

“oh but you do, bishop, you do!”

“well, yes I suppose I do”

THE bell-END

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