boipussy

As Noah vivaciously clenched his buttcheeks until it formed a dark hole the size of an apple tart, bisher looked on. His gaze was further galzanized by various objects oscillating out of his orifice. Various herbs began to steadily flow out of noah's clenched man-biscuits. Oregano, Basil, Coriander, Cilantro. They culminated in the air, giving the empty room a heavenly aroma.

"L-lewd" Bisher noted as the various herbs began to orbit Noah's genitals. Golden oil began to stream from the ceiling. Drywall cracked as various oils splattered against Noah's bod. The golden liquid, impregnated by the herbs, began to move viciously along the lengths of his thighs. Lengths of various bread. "Wunderbar!" Bisher exclaimed as he produced 4 large loafs of bread. there, the lengthy process of fabricating herb bread began.

Gibby bits strewn, the orgy was in full-swing. Barbra Streisand could be heard in the distance and the audible flapping and slapping was much closer. There, a congregating of 3 per-pubescent boys could be heard . Culminated in various oils and leaves, the movement was vigorous. Bisher was fixated on the two loaves of bread wedged in between noah's thighs. They vibrated through and through with each of noah's thrusts. The house was under cardiac arrest as it agitated left to right, left to right.

Donkey balls slapping, a daunting image was spread before Faisal. Unable to process what he was seeing, he stood several meters away, playing with his ring finger. His capacious anus began to swell, slowly but surely bracing for what was to come. Barrages of dicks and buttered bread shadowed his buttcheeks.

"N-no!" the slender arabian exclaimed as various objects began to fill his every hole. His resistance began to deteriorate like the apartment's foundation beneath them. Noah's steady thrusts into Bisher's virgin boypussy was shifting the tectonic plates, slowly forming into what appeared to be an unventured flower.

Positively engulfed in leafy herbs, oils, and dicks, Bisher's mind began to melt. The heat retained from the oils began to undermine any rhyme or reason. Even through his disambiguous thoughts, he knew but one fact. Slipping and sliding on the porcelain floor, he traversed to faisal, who was already having his way with the baguettes.

---

Christian kicked away the obstruction to his door. Morning set in whether he liked it or not. The previous night's masturbatory session made it almost unthinkable to walk. A paraplegic for lyfe, his mind raced on how he would accustom to living as a cripple. His thoughts were breached with the entrance of Paul in his room. Nude except for a sprig of mint covering his sweet spots, he gingerly approached Christian. His eyes widened as the leaves did.

"so." paul said, " is your body ready?"

"M-maybe.." Christian blushed. He hid his face with his hands but the gap between his fingers gave him a sufficient view of Paul's stoic expression.

Paul proceeded to conjure a bottle of oil from thin air. He shook it for a bit, with unwavering eye contact with Christian.

"It's time."

"to oil up." Paul said gingerly.


The slapping and rubbing increased in magnitude as Bisher's virgin bootyhole reached his limit. Faisal's all-encompassing lahme was almost too much for him to handle. Almost.

The trio seemed exempt from the rest of the apartment house as their movements began to intermingle with one another. Then, it happened. Faisal climaxed as Bisher farted. The gases forced his man-gravy up faisal's fatoot. Faisal's balls seemed to spontaneously combust as semen and chunks of kosher meat flew out. Seeing this, Noah's preceding condition seemed to skyrocket. The building pressure steadily climbed up, then.

<insert sound affect here>

Just as the coat of liquid flew up, it made no attempts to undermine Newton's laws. It rained down the orgasming boys as they gasped for air. Bread, cum, and basil strewn everywhere, their eyes drifted from their genitals to one another's eyes. They seemed enticing, yet cold. Tehir mouth stood agahst as they attemted to collect their thoughts. Noah attempted to get up, but he promptly slipped on the sourdough and fell. And audible crack could be heard as his dripping wet body collided with the tile floor.

Christian's boypussy. Overwhelmed by Paul's USDA prime bone-in porterhouse steak, his mind seemed to be suspend in limbo. He grasped at his red and orange sheets had the thrusts became progressively more vigorous. Through the slapping and pounding they managed to contain a conversation.

"The new season of Rosario Vampire was quite exhilarating, don't you think?"

"indeed, I particularly favored the part when she showered her cleavage."

"Indeed, I was quite mystified and aroused by that scene."

"But after all,-"

Paul grasped at Christian's flowing locks and the pressure rose.

"nnn'

The slapping increased in velocity. Paul bared his teeth as pure ecstasy began to fill his bod. He released the kraken as his dam fell. Gallons began flowing into Christian's every orifice.

Still connected, the two adolescent boys slumped on each other. The scent of basil and fresh cum filled the air. Through his gasping and breathing, Christian said between his teeth,

"Arigato onnichan"















i fucked a stapler once and as soon as i came they shot out of the opposite end and decide to embed itself into my purple nutbag but then i was so hard that it deflected into my anus but my ass muscles shielded my from that danger so the staples reverted into my mouth but the many months of sucking faisal off gave me protection against the barrage so i came on a stapler.













someday
someday you will hear the slightest noise on your window
you will think nothing of it
then it repeats.
then again.
and again.
you stumble out of bed, tripping over various items left by you.
your eyes refuse to open, binded by dry eyewax.
you rub them free of their cuffs.
you point your heads toward the window.
your eyes take a moment to adjust.
slowly, the image gets sharper and sharper.
your eyes wide.
there, in the middle of the window, is faisal.
wearing nothing but a ruffles potato chip bag around his waist.
his skin glistens,
you then smell the sweet scent of butter, dripping off of his armpits.
you try to mutter out a sound.
it refuses. your brain is still stunned at the scene it's concentrating on.
no logic can explain why a buttered, half-naked arabic man is outside your window.
his hand reaches out.
his fingers catch the edge of the window.
your hand reaches up to stop him, but the rest of your body refuses to move.
you watch as his hand moves horizontally, making a horrendous scraping noise.
he floats through the small window and your eyes meet.
...
your body refuses to move.
you open your mouse, but no audible noise comes out.
he floats closer to you.
his face is so close that you can feel the steady, moist breath originating from his nose.
he cocks his head, and opens his mouth.
he moves closer until your faces are about to touch,
and lips move slightly as he mutters.
"do you even lift"














As they slid on the exterior of the cold, unforgiving glass, re reminisced about his old days
Days before the war, days before, he met miko.
Miko was a tier 1 navy seal with over 300 confirmed kills met Faisal during the Great War.
Faisal at that time liked to partake in dressing like a twink and bathing in orange juice with pulp.
In one of his bathing sessions, his eyes locked onto a particular bush outside of the window.
A figure, stepped from inside the bush, a 5'9" man sporting nothing but a basil leaf as a loincloth, like some kind of stoic roman statue
They locked eyes in a moment, but Faisal turned away, blushing, muttering, “I bet he doesn't even lift..."Miko did not accept such sudden invitations, as he was locked in having a long-lasting committed relationship with a twink.
But he thought, "Ehh, why not, I could use a new leaf."
and so, he bound up from Faisal's garden, leaves swaying, and landed in Faisal’s closet, filled to the brim with unmentionables such as Starbucks coffee and shirts from the 90's.
Faisal emerged from the bathroom, with only a towel around his waist.
Miko's eyes grew as his leaf did.
The Kuwaiti an (or wherever Faisal’s from) was covered in pulp, glistening like Poseidon and Zeus' child slathered in honey and motor oil.
Miko stood up, fully engaged.
Faisal made the first move by facefucking his nightstand, splinters and lamps in all directions.
The poor nightstand didn't last a chance as it exploded like my colon after eating Indian food
Like my colon after Indian food, residue was all over the walls and the floor, providing a stable platform at with Faisal and Miko would later plunge each other out on.
Leaves, oregano, basil, flew across the air.
Pepper, kosher salt, cinnamon,
Cumin, cumin, cumin
And Miko and Faisal stood at the edge of the mesonie, covered in various spices and Indian cuisine,
They locked eyes once more before a shell went off in the distance.
"I have to go," stated Miko, grabbing his fallen sprig of oregano and salt rifle filled with baby-seeking cop killing hollow point bullets
"Okay" Faisal managed to groan, his mouth chock full of cayenne pepper.
As Miko strolled through the shelled streets of Syria on his 4 cylinder monocycle, the night disappeared in a flurry of gunfire and artillery, akin to my colon after taco bell.
Faisal longed for those long nights with Miko, even after the war.
He never knew what happened to Miko, although I know exactly what happened after eating at Del taco.
He hoped for better days during the conflict, full of uncertainty, but he was content now.
Yet, deep in his hart, there was a puzzle piece missing.
A puzzle piece composed of various cupboard spices and my diarrhea after raw oysters.
Day by day went by, clutching that small bottle with Miko’s leaf,
But his heart went unfulfilled, contrary to my bowels after eating unlimited soup, salad, and breadsticks.
"I...."
That voice.
So appropriately familiar, yet far away.
"I...Lift."
Faisal’s eyes went wider than Mr. Hands' stretched out colon.
There, in the abandoned Syrian massage parlor, was Miko.
With a bush thicker than the amazon, a rod wider than an idea chair, a thick unibrow designed for beating his subordinate nignogs who acted out of line
"SUCK MY DICK FAGGOT, STOP FEEDING." Faisal exclaimed, running into Miko’s arms
They embraced, with the scent of spices permeating in the air, rods touching like the final battle in star wars episode 4
And thus, their lives were fulfilled.
Both would later travel to Estonia, where gay marriage was legal,
And would have a rich, long life.
[Faisal of course, was still a twink, maintaining his nether regions like an obsessive gardener.
And like those plants owned by the obsessive gardener, Miko’s bush grew full and luscious.
Together, they lived happy.
Faisal was literally a faggot.
Fin