City Dust Burning Burning Palm Silicon Fronds

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic


City Dust Burning Burning Palm Silicon Fronds

Submitted: June 04, 2018

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Submitted: June 04, 2018

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Three cool crew cut sailors tiptoe swinging chain braids stolen from mermaids down an endless alleyway singing hidey-hidey- ho oh no-no- no you can’t. Their white suits get real colourful after they find a cowering pack of whores behind their dumpster hermit crab shell home reeking of love juice dissolved by loneliness sprinkled in lust misery all the while they’re screaming ‘gonna change the world! Gonna change the world!’ who’s screaming? Gunpowder dust settles at the bottom of his beer bottle wicked burning his belly and he’s sucking a cock’s cock it tastes just like chicken funny thing is its O-face looks just like his ex-girlfriend’s. Marble-skinned Puricite rushes in its form warbled dim by the outlined hanging lightbulb laughs heartily at the sight of the greatest joke in the universe. Zimsin the High Procterate of Rigel Alpha 39-zz- A-Soosta caresses the high sultan djinn of Sumerian secretive services, shits out three Puricites that muck about for about thirty years wearing only the finest mascara made of three thousand year old guano, and with each caress whispers in his ear: ‘Oh yeah baby babe you’re the hottest most bestest baby babe sexy sexy more than sexy lovely beautiful more beautiful than ANYTHING THAT COULD EVER EXIST you’re out of this world baby goochiegoochiegoo baby babe how is you even possible I have no idea you’re God no better than God I can’t even fathom how I’m going to fuck such a babybaby goochoogoochie sexy sexy bestie bestie’ and as he slides his throbbing member in his prolapsed throbbing anus a Puricite spills out of his urethra cackling manically its milk white marble love gaze searing their flesh, their tissues, their muscles, their bones, they gurgle in pain as they are reduced to an oozing puddle of longing that still lurches at itself in an act of the most divine consummation sweet betrothed lovers that they be. Sizzling DMT in a meth pipe arcs an acrid plastic scent into his capillaries and he weeps burning dollops creamy jizz out his eyes how he wishes to bury his longing into a sweet wet warm soft woman any woman really as long as they have that slime flesh feel to them crack goes the lightning and his cigarette breathes a burning heartglow ember hello out hello in look this is the cosmos captured by another silly spliff and rage becomes all that Jimmy Jones the Fifth has known so he goes up promptly sticks a fan blade into his landlord’s face causing a rainbow vomit stream to undulate in the sunny open air walks out into bustling city traffic licks the pavement till his arms just wee pop off and the gangsta gangsta thug kins come up gape for a while while jacking each other off and the bridge collapses in silky sheened waves split somberly and splish splash there’s nothing left at all. Star pressure pushes ever so slightly and mingles in a singles club poker jokes being flung about and the cute girl from the office comes up waggling her tits at the old folks as they grope her wildly drooling their bleeding gums out. She cries out ‘Oy vey ya nasteh squags dirty filty ole pervs likes canst ya sees I’m in loves with the most nobles of nobles the good narrator o’ his own sacred vows and governances in life great Jimmy Jones the Fifth that set me pussy and me heart all aflame piercin’ me mind with the joys and wonders o’ poetry and song!’ and such a sweetheart lovely little lady most dignified that she is gets gangbanged and beat by all the old men in that singled star pressured club to the stereo booming all those sweet love songs he’d shown her and out comes those glowing plastic screens to spread her so-called folly across a thousand concrete worlds and aliens and xenophobic cave dwellers alike whisper to their mobile phones and glass monitors oh baby oh baby you’re doing it just for me their flesh going slap slap thuck thuck just as hers gets ground red by the wrinkled lemon sucked faces that beat her and beat her and beat her off and her bones crick crack scrunch she’s a broken pile still grunting and groaning with each old man grope and ancient withered cock thrust in pleasure and pain what’s the difference alike. Now they pull out floppy butter knives make more holes in her to situate more cocks and she’s an exploding lotus such a cutie and his typewriter attached monitor goes clack clack clack and poor ole Jimmy Jones the Fifth sees his love and shrugs he never met her anyways types in something else onto the landing pad and he’s in another world called a video game land wasting his life here or wasting it there ‘Joy is I and I become you and you and someone new!’ the Puricite screech their love for him swarming around his testicles that have grown brittle yellow barnacles in his comatose ages rotting in that dust-bin among an unhealthy gang of cockroaches that try to do all sorts of down and out activities like the stick-up game at the local 7-11 or shoplift from Baskin Robbins their scrawling hand-legs all gooped up with glistening strawberry swirl and melty butterscotch delight buzzing their antennae maliciously using their vicious pincers to snip divots into Jimmy Jones the Fifth’s bulging member letting each orgasm he can’t control come out as bloody jizzum making a self-portrait of immaculate divinity onto the scrabbling cockroaches hard shiny wings. But a Puricite can pounce even in between the chalk lines of utter surprise and it does with a vigorous vengeance humping away at Jimmy Jones the Fifth’s most moist and warm lovely eye socket squish squish and how Puricite giggles in delight its marble-white glow turning pastel mosaic mushy its skin opening and closing ventricles connecting hidden wires as the air-folds open and reveal those secret from human cogs aiding in the Puricite’s utterly orgasmic viscerally charged musical instrument: squishy squish and its quivering reaches a climax connect wire to point vertices A-minus Zeta point vertex Nonsense Word Zooma and that lucky bastard Jimmy Jones the Fifth’s moist lovely squishy eye socket bursts up in a flapping skin-fold he slack jaws gapes with sparkling pearl eyes come from undersea silver waverings a cosmic breeze going a quiet whoosh without a trace of any foul element mixed in secret microscopic discontent just that lovely moonlit bottom of the sea silverytree swaying slightly in the midnight darkly just going that whispering whoosh. Whoosh.


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