My wife grinding me doggy with a couple ass punches included ending with me blowing on her back. Perfect bitch has an amazing butt

Rachel needs punched and butt fucked

I am a 19 year old cunt. It's no nut november. Although I don't have a cock, I've taken part in the challenge and haved denied myself orgasms through this entire month. It's driving me cock crazy. I'm so horny and I've been edging myself endlessly, shoving stuff into my ass and cunt, watching disgusting porn. It's like I'm in heat. I don't know if I can make it much longer. I wanna be painfully raped in the ass, causing me to bleed out. I want a disgusting unwashed hairy male asshole in my face, to lick and to be farted/shit on. I wanna be punched and bit and hurt. I went to starbucks with a butt plug up my ass. I went to sleep with a jumbo bubble wand up my cunt. I want horrible people to rape my asshole and throat. I wouldn't even report it. 

Brooke

Sixteen-year-old Brooke steered her car into the parking lot
across the street from the convenience store, on her way to a
postgame football party with her cheerleading squad.
She was going to buy some sodas and chips to bring to the
party, but she had also wanted to sneak in a six-pack of beer.
Her parents didn't drink, so the only way she could get some
would be to shoplift the beers. She had done a small amount of
shoplifting before, and it was rather easy.
By parking across the street and carrying her large
cheerleading duffle bag into the store while dressed in her
uniform, it would give the appearance that she was walking home
following the game. Then she could buy the pop and chips, but
slip the beers into her bag, as well.
As she walked into the store, she smiled at the clerk, a
middle-aged man in his forties, who was working alone. She
browsed the snack aisle slowly, taking her time, as she picked up
a bag of chips. Then she sauntered over to the refrigerated
case.
As Brooke passed the beer rack, she looked toward the clerk
to see if he was noticing. He seemed to be reading something in
another direction, so she quietly slipped the refrigerated case
door open and deftly snuck a six-pack of beer into the partially
unzipped duffle bag. Then she scooted over to the sodas and
picked up a six-pack of those to pay for.
Brooke hadn't realized it, but the store clerk had been
watching her in one of the large parabolic mirrors, checking her
out in her little uniform, while she had slipped the beers into
her bag.
When she arrived at the register to pay for the sodas and
chips.
"Do you need anything else tonight?" the clerk asked.
"No," Brooke replied. "That should do it."
"Then what about the beers in your bag?" he inquired.
Brooke's face fell off.
"Shit," she muttered. She had never been caught before, and
never really thought about the consequences, since it had been so
easy.
Brooke slowly reached into the bag and pulled the beers out.
"Well young lady," he said. "I guess you're in some trouble
now."
He picked up the phone and dialed the police, who told him
they would be there in a couple of minutes.
"Okay, miss, just wait over there near the office door. The
police will be here in a couple of minutes."
Brooke wanted to cry. She had never really contemplated the
potential outcome, and now it was too late. And this store clerk
was going to take no mercy on her.
It didn't take long for the law to arrive. Two police
officers, one probably in his early forties and one who seemed to
be just out of training, walked into the store.
"You've got another lifter?" the older cop asked.
"Yep," he answered. "A kid, right over there next to the
office door."
The clerk pointed squarely at young Brooke, who wished she
could be anywhere but there at that moment.
The older cop got an eyeful of Brooke, and he could tell she
was scared.
"Well, we're gonna take her into the office for a while and
talk to her before we take her in," he told the clerk.
"That's fine," the clerk responded. "I'll be here in case
you need anything."
The older cop looked over at the younger one and smirked as
the two slowly approached young Brooke.
"Well, young lady, I guess you've found yourself some
trouble, huh?" the older office asked.
"Yes, sir," Brooke answered solemnly.
"Well, then, I think we'd better step into this office and
discuss the situation before we take you in," he said.
The officer opened the office door and ushered the three of
them in, carefully locking the door behind them.
"So," asked the younger cop. "What were you trying to
steal?"
"Beers," she simply said.
"This isn't the first time we've seen minors trying to steal
beer, either," he told her.
"So what happens now?" Brooke asked.
Knowing that the store policy was simply to take minors in to
scare them, but not to prosecute, the older cop figured to play
the situation for all he could get.
"Well, we're supposed to take you in to the station and book
you for shoplifting, then call your parents. They can bail you
out or let you spend the night in jail before you see the judge
tomorrow morning."
Brooke's eyes started to water.
"Isn't there any way you could just let me go with a
warning?" she begged. "My parents will kill me, and I'll get
kicked off the cheer squad, for sure."
"Well, that's not the policy," the younger officer told her.
"Sorry."
"Please?" she pleaded with teary eyes to both men. "I'll do
anything not to get in trouble for this. I've learned my
lesson."
The older cop looked young Brooke's sexy little body over.
She looked so hot in her little cheerleading uniform.
"Anything, huh?" he mused.
"Yes, sir," she said.
His eyes devoured the teenaged cheerleader. She had long,
wavy blonde hair, large and bright blue eyes and delicious-
looking lips.
Brooke wore a tight, body-hugging sweater. It was a V-neck
style, white on the top with a bulldog emblem for the local high
school across the chest. The emblem stood out impressively,
propelled by her two "C"-cup-sized breasts. The sweater was
black on the bottom half, with a four-inch-wide band of
bold/white/black/white/gold across the body of the sweater in a
similar "V" shape, just below the emblem, with the black initials
"MHS" in the white area between the "V". The same color pattern
extended across the back of the form-fitting sweater, as well as
the long sleeves.
Her skirt was black with sixteen inverted gold and white
alternating pleats. It hemmed out very high on her shapely
tanned thighs and nicely caressed her fine teenaged ass. A pair
of white kneesocks, with a black band around the top, and white
athletic shoes capped off her delightful uniform.
The older cop wanted her pussy, and this cheerleader seemed
very willing to do almost whatever she could to avoid trouble.
He glanced over at the younger officer and smiled.
"You're not thinking what I'm thinking, are you?" blurted the
other cop.
"Yep, I'm afraid I am," came his answer.
"What's going on?" asked poor Brooke.
"I think my partner has an option for you," the young cop
told her.
"Like what?" Brooke inquired, anxious for anything at this
point.
The older cop was straight to the point.
"Like we let you go, provided you let us both fuck you and
cum in that cute little mouth of yours," he simply offered.
Brooke simply looked at them both, absolutely stunned at the
idea of getting out of trouble.
"And then you'd just let me go?" she asked.
"Yep," the cop said.
"That would be okay, I guess," she relented. "Because I
don't want any trouble. It's just that I've never been fucked
before."
"Are you serious?" asked the younger cop. "A beautiful girl
like you?"
"No," Brooke answered. "I never had the guts to ask a guy
yet, and I guess they haven't, either."
"Well then," said the older man, "we'll just have to show you
how it's done."
"And you want to shoot your stuff in my mouth?" she asked,
wincing a bit at the idea.
"Definitely. And you would need to swallow it, too."
"I've heard it doesn't usually taste very good," she
commented.
"Well, that's part of the deal. We don't want to leave a
mess in this office."
"Okay."
"But we'll have to be pretty quick about it," the young cop
added. "Because that store manager will wonder what's going on.
And we'll have to be quiet, too."
Brooke nodded in agreement.
"Okay, then, sweetheart," the older guy said as he unbuckled
his trousers. "You can start by sucking on my cock."
Brooke just nodded and stepped toward the man to do as she
was told.
"And I'll fuck you from behind while you suck him," added the
young cop. "Just bend over for me."
Brooke looked a bit alarmed.
"You're not gonna put that thing in my butt, are you?" she
asked with concern.
"No, I'm gonna stick it in your pussy from behind," he
explained. "It's called 'doggy-style'."
Brooke snickered as the older guy fished his half-erect penis
from his boxers and offered it to the high school cheerleader.
Brooke took it in her hand and obediently placed it in her warm
mouth. Bent forward, she started sucking on it while the guy
fucked her mouth slowly.
She felt the other guy's hands as they reached under the
pleats of her little skirt. He pushed the pleats upward to
expose the tight gold cheerleading bloomers with her white cotton
panties underneath.
Brooke felt him grab the waistband of both pairs and tug her
bloomer/panty combination down her thighs, leaving them stretched
across her legs, just above her knees. He spread her kneesocked
legs for leverage and fisted his hard cock against her virgin
pussy lips from behind.
Her pussy was dry, so the young cop began rubbing her pussy
lips with his dick. It didn't take long to get the hot little
cheerleader nice and wet. Within a couple of minutes, young
Brooke's pussy was sopping with her own cunt juices.
By this time, Brooke had sucked the other cop big and hard.
His cock now filled her young mouth, and he began to pump in and
out of her lips. Brooke put her hands on her knees for rest and
support as the guy skull-fucked her with one hand grasping each
side of her head.
The young cop nestled the head of his prick to Brooke's love
tunnel and slowly pushed it in until it hit her maidenhead, the
thin membrane that marked her virginal state.
"Okay, baby, I'm gonna bust your cherry now," he told her.
"It'll hurt a little bit at first, but it'll go away."
He put his hands on the sides of her cheerleading sweater and
punched it through her hymen quickly. Brooke grunted as he
popped her innocence, but the pain quickly subsided.
"Okay, baby, that was it," he reassured her. "You'll be
fine, now."
The cop slowly pulled out, then slid it back in repeatedly,
each time giving the teen cheerleader about a quarter-inch more
schlong. Before long, he was able to fuck a good five inches
into her first-time twat, enjoying the ultra-tight fit of her
virgin pussy.
Poor Brooke was getting pumped from both ends simultaneously
as she was bent over in her sexy cheer uniform with her hands on
her knees.
"Stroke it with your tongue while I fuck that mouth of
yours," said the older cop.
Brooke tried as best she could to satisfy the man. After a
few minutes of double-fucking, the two men decided to switch
positions simply by having little Brooke turn around.
"I need to rest my mouth for a couple of minutes," Brooke
said. "My jaws are sore."
"Then I'll fuck you on this desk while you rest for my
partner," said the older cop.
As Brooke wiggled her cheer briefs and panties down to her
ankles and kicked them aside, he picked the cheerleader up and
placed her on the edge of the desk. Brooke lifted her legs,
placing the soles of her shoes on the edge of the desk, also,
wide to the sides.
The sixteen alternating gold and white pleats of her little
black cheer skirt spread nicely across the top of her thighs as
she presented her moist love treasure to the older cop. She
looked marvelous with her kneesocks cocked to the sides, inviting
the man to impale her with his saliva-coated cock.
He lifted the sides of her sweater and tugged the fabric high
on her chest, above her ample breasts, as he also lifted her bra
cups to let her mammaries free.
"Yeah, let's see those nice tits while I fuck you," he
blurbed, as he squatted a bit to put his cock in position.
Brooke smiled as she looked down and watched him push the
head of his prick between her pussy lips and gently slide it in.
She could feel his member fill her tight, warm snatch as he took
several fuck-strokes to drive the full length into the young
girl, mashing his pubic hair against her pink clit.
"Oh, yeah," he murmured. "Fits like a fucking glove..."
The younger cop watched, gently stroking himself, as his
partner hammered little Brooke's deflowered pussy gently but
firmly. Brooke's tits wiggled with each thrust as they dangled
beneath her cheerleading sweater and bra.
Brooke was really enjoying this now. She looked over at a
nearby mirror and was able to see the reflection of herself
getting fucked from a third-person perspective. It made her even
hornier.
The cop was only able to fuck young Brooke for a few minutes.
He had to stop for fear of blowing his load into her pussy, and
he didn't want his DNA filling the high school cheerleader.
"Fuck," he gasped, as he pulled out of her. "I've gotta
stop, before I blow my load in your cunt."
"It's my turn, then," said the younger cop, quickly, anxious
to dip his fleshy spear into her teen treasure again.
As his partner stepped aside, the young cop assumed the
position and was quickly fucking the teen cheerleader with a
frenzied pace.
The older cop could only watch as Brooke's long blonde hair
bounced around with her tits as his partner drilled her with
quick thrusts. He didn't even touch his cock, because he knew he
would blow his wad early. The excitement level was just too
much.
The young cop didn't last long, either, before he also had to
pull out.
"Okay, let's switch positions again, just like how we
started."
The two officers pulled Brooke down from the desk and
positioned her between them again, this time bent forward to
receive the younger guy's cock in her mouth.
Placing her hands on her knees again, Brooke opened her mouth
wide for her oral fucking, while feeling the back of her little
skirt being pulled up and the other cock entering her pussy from
behind.
The younger guy slid himself into her waiting mouth, and she
sealed her lips around him. The threesome continued the hot 'n
heavy action for another four or five minutes.
"I'm ready to shoot off," grunted the older cop. "How about
you?"
"Yeah, I think it's time," grunted his younger partner.
The two cops pulled out of the teen cheerleader.
"Okay," said the older one. Kneel right here between us,
hold your head back and keep your mouth open."
Brooke nodded and did as she was instructed. She was almost
completely out of trouble with the law now, and she knew she had
to keep her end of the deal.
"I'll go first," said the older guy.
He positioned himself between the girl's knees and put the
head of his cock on her tongue as he stroked himself.
"Remember, you need to swallow it all so we don't leave a
mess. Understand?" he asked.
Brooke nodded, as she waited for his creamy cargo.
"Aw, shit, here it comes," the cop grunted.
His cock splurted a load of thick, frothy goo into the
cheerleader's open mouth, sliding down her tongue to the back of
her throat. Again and again, he fired his spunk repeatedly into
her young mouth, and the obedient girl swallowed every bit of his
load without hesitation. After four or five salvos of steamy
cum, he squeezed the last of it onto the girl's tongue.
"Oh yeah, baby," he exulted. "You're such a good girl."
He stepped aside to zip up as his partner took his turn,
standing between the girl's knees.
"Hey, baby, stick your tongue out so I can watch it shoot
into your mouth without spilling a drop," he told her.
Brooke pressed her tongue against the underside of his cock,
keeping her head back and mouth wide open. It didn't take this
guy long, either, to give her a good, frothy drink.
"Aw, shit!" he exclaimed, as he shot his first wad of cum off
the roof of her mouth.
Another squirt of warm, creamy jizz followed, then another,
and another. Brooke's mouth was filling with the cop's spunk
faster than she could swallow.
"God, that's a load!" exclaimed his partner. "You're gonna
drown the poor kid."
The young cop kept on feeding the cheerleader his creamy
nectar, which pooled in her mouth. Brooke tried desperately to
gulp down the relentless flow of semen. Finally, the cascade of
cum slowed to a point where Brooke managed to swallow fast enough
to keep up. Mercifully, it trickled to a stop.
"Okay, baby, suck the last of it out, he told her.
Brooke sealed her lips around his cock and sucked as he
stroked himself down the shaft one last time, slowly squeezing
the last of his seed into the teenager's mouth. She felt the
last of his creamy goop as it hit her taste buds, and she
swallowed the last drops of it like a proper young cheerleader
should.
"Well, sweetheart, you've earned your freedom," said the
older cop, with a smile. "Just let us put you in the squad car
and take you a block away, so this store manager thinks we're
doing our job."
Brooke nodded as she pulled her bra and sweater back into
position, and then reached for her panties and cheer briefs,
quickly putting them back on. She smiled to herself, happy to be
out of trouble with the law, but also happy she had pleased these
men.

This past Friday night, with my wife back East visiting relatives, I invited over a new friend for a sleepover. We'd met three months ago on a local dating site and had fucked before -- always at her place -- with two four-hour sessions to our credit. She's exactly half my age (35 to 70) and a bit on the chubby side, but her height (5-11) helps make up for the 160-plus pounds she carries, and twice-a-week Pilates keeps her firm. She's a natural blonde with 36D breasts, plus nipples that always seem to be fully erect.

I picked her up at her townhouse, and we headed to a Middle Eastern restaurant on my side of town for dinner. As usual, our conversation was a mixture of contemporary thought (she's an attorney; I'm a tech writer), politics (we're both quite liberal), and sexual teasing. With our meal completed, we hopped back into my car for the 10-minute drive back to my condo. Since the building only has a single elevator and everyone there knows me (I'm on the HOA board), I was relieved that we didn't see a single resident as we traveled between the underground garage and my front door.

I took a quick shower while she made herself comfortable in my bedroom. Knowing her proclivity for squirting, I'd taken the time earlier that day to strip my bed down to its fitted sheet, under which I'd laid several bath towels. It proved to be a worthwhile exercise in caution.

As I emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of red silk boxers, I saw her playing with my cat while she had on only a bra and panties. "Orange isn't exactly your color," I said half-playfully. "Well, you'll just have to take them off, then," was her reply. Since I'm only an inch taller than her, kissing is a very delightful and simple process, and we lip-locked probably a hundred times over the ensuing 14-plus hours. She beat me to the punch and unhooked her bra, to which I voiced a mild objection. "I'm very mechanically minded," I said. "Besides, I was unhooking bras long before you were born." She laughed and shrugged her shoulders, which caused her bra to fall to the floor. "Oops," she squealed." "I guess you'll have to pick that up, Mister Mechanically Minded."

We made out for a bit while standing up, her tugging on my erect, silk-covered cock, while I cupped her breasts and sucked insistently on each of her nipples. She reached down to rearrange her panties and let me know they were of the crotchless variety. I soon ran my fingers up and down her rapidly moistening slit before tugging them off entirely. She climbed onto the bed, and I kicked off my shorts before joining her. Hands went immediately to each partner's genitals, and we French-kissed furiously while tugging and stroking.

After a few minutes of that, I flipped her onto her back. She knew what was next and opened her legs invitingly. I dove down between her pale, creamy thighs and began to slurp long, extended licks from the base of her pussy to her little pearl-sized clit. "I brought my trimmer, if that's too hairy for you," she offered. Her pubic area boasted a neat triangle of dark-blonde stubble, but it was hardly bush-like. "Hey," I countered. "I grew up in the '60s, when no one ever heard of a shaved crotch." Then I really went to work on her.

I've been fortunate to have had sex with a few multi-orgasmic women in my time, but she is clearly the queen of that realm. In our previous two encounters, I'm guessing she came dozens of times in a four-hour span. It's hard to keep track, though, because she crests from one peak to another in such a seamless way that's it's closer to one giant, rolling orgasm. I alternated between one finger inside and thrusting, two fingers inside and mashing up against her g-spot, and three fingers inside and twisting. As for attending to her clit, I alternately flicked it with my tongue, sucked it hard between my lips, nibbled on it gently with my teeth, brushed it back and forth with the fingers of my other hand, and pressed it hard against her pubic bone with my thumb.

After a good 20-30 minutes of pussy attention -- and a request by her for me to take a break -- I rolled onto my back and she proceeded to give me a very thorough blow job. I'm not terribly large (5.75 inches long and circumcised), so it's not difficult for her to take me entirely into her mouth. She calls that her "disappearing dick trick," and she accompanies the oral action with some digital ball-sack manipulation. Then she decided it was time to fuck, so she climbed on top of me and rode me to three pussy-grinding orgasms. Given my lack of length, her enthusiastic back-and-forth rocking caused me to fall out a couple of times. I was about to apologize (for the second time) about being a bit short when she railed against that.

"Don't you dare say 'sorry' again," she said. "You're nice and thick, and I don't know a single woman who would prefer a long skinny dick to a wide one like yours that fills her up." Secretly I doubted her statement, but I was enjoying the situation way too much to object. After her third orgasm, and sensing I wasn't quite ready to come, she climbed off and went down on my cock again, expressing her love for tasting her pussy juice on my dick. After a bit of that, I tugged on her hair and she slid up the bed so we could lie side by side. She used her left hand to firmly stroke my erection while I reached down with my left hand and played with her clit.

One of the things we enjoy during our sessions is telling each other naughty stories about previous encounters with others. Her initial "bedtime story" that night involved relating a visit she'd made to a friend of hers who was in Dallas on business. She flew down there at his invitation for a one-nighter, but realized upon showing up at his hotel that she'd forgotten to bring any condoms. [I've been vasectomized, and we're both very careful to "play safe" with others -- not that I've had any action other than with her for quite a while -- so she and I bareback it with each other, but she employs condoms with all other partners.] It was a Sunday night, and the local CVS had closed early due to a worker shortage. "So, we stuck to oral for a while," she related to me. "And then he fucked my ass, which seemed like the best option at the time." It was that last bit that put me over the top, and cum shot out of my dick and cascaded down across her hand like a lava flow. She was quite fastidious in cleaning it up with her tongue, sucking on her fingers in dramatic fashion as the final drops disappeared into her beautiful mouth.

I wasn't anywhere near finished with her, however, and she spent the next half hour or so submitting to my various efforts. It usually takes her a while to work her way up to a squirting orgasm, but I was determined to bring her to that level before we called it a night. As it turned out, it only took about three minutes of highly focused finger-fucking for her to spurt forth, and she managed two additional squirts over the ensuing 10 minutes, the last of which she induced herself with two of her fingers pile-driving into her pussy while I rubbed her clit with such speed that my hand was nearly a blur.

At that point we figured we'd reached a good stopping point. It was after 11 pm, and we were both fairly worn out. While she headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and pee, I grabbed the rest of the bed covers (a top sheet plus a down comforter) and got the bed ready for the night. We both decided to sleep in the nude -- "In case one of us gets horny in the dark," she said with a wink -- and snuggled for a bit before rolling onto our respective sides in preparation for sleep. My bed is only a double, so it's pretty narrow for two people. We drifted off to sleep naked-butt-to-naked-butt.

For some reason, I woke up just before two a.m. While asleep we'd ended up facing each other, and as I awoke I decided to "test the waters" and see if she was game for a late-night fuck. As soon as I slid my hand between her tucked-together thighs, she leaned into me and said, "It's about time you woke up." "What do you mean?" I asked somewhat stupidly. "Well," she went on, "I've been playing with my clit for the past 10 minutes and waiting for you to notice that the mattress was rocking." I was hard almost instantly, which for a guy my age, is nothing short of miraculous. It only took me a moment, however, to seize the situation. In a flash (which, for a 70-year-old guy, is probably measurable in minutes), I threw off the covers and got on top of her. She pushed me away just long enough to draw her legs up toward her chest, and then she guided my cock into her pussy. It didn't take me long to pound away, although I was only able to keep up the thrusting for a couple of minutes before my arms got tired of holding the rest of my body up above hers. Sensing my dilemma, and clearly not willing to have me stop, she pulled me down so I was lying fully on top of her, and after another few minutes of enthusiastic fucking, I came hard inside her pussy.

At that point I was breathing pretty hard, but I had the presence of mind to roll off her (I weigh around 230 pounds) and catch my breath while lying on my own side of the bed. She reached up with one hand and pressed her fingertips against my neck, physically taking note of my pulse rate. "I guess you'll live through the night," she said in a humorous tone. "Besides, my CPR training has lapsed." "Ha-ha," was about all I could manage in reply.

We fell back asleep but woke up almost simultaneously around eight o'clock. A quick trip to the bathroom for each of us, and we were back at it. Our morning session only lasted about 90 minutes, but she got in a good dozen orgasms and I made sure she got a good taste of her cum-filled pussy as I dipped my fingers into her snatch and coated them with a mixture of our respective juices before shoving them into her mouth. After a short rest, we climbed into the shower together and did a pretty good job of cleaning each other off. She admitted to being a bit sore from all the attention her pussy had received, so I avoided doing anything sexual to her as the water cascaded down around us, but she gave me a very nice soap-covered hand job as a reward of sorts.

After getting dressed and making sure she'd packed up all her stuff, we went to a nearby deli for brunch, and then I dropped her off at home. I'm not sure when we'll meet next -- we each have busy work schedules, and she has a couple of business trips set for the next month -- but I know the next time we're together it'll be more of the same. I'm already looking forward to it!

ROUND THREE / UNEXPECTED DAY THREE

Continuation of my Minnesota adventure: May 2024 [another very long post]

To recap:
I was visiting T, my 52-year-old long-time red-haired FWB, for the first time since October 2021. In the interim, she’d had major female surgery, put on some unwanted weight due to the anti-depressant meds she’d been taking (although she still looked amazing to me), and dumped a 20-y/o lover because “he came too fast, didn’t have a decent job, and couldn’t eat pussy to save his life.” I’d made the drive from Denver to her small town, located a couple of hours southwest of the Twin Cities, with the intent of doing what we always did. That involved catching up on news since the last time we were together, taking in concerts, museums and other attractions while spending the weekend in the Twin Cities, and having sex – lots and lots of sex.

I woke up around 7:30 Tuesday morning, following another three-hour fuck session that had wrapped up around two a.m. Because T babysits her two-year-old grandson every weekday afternoon, I had only planned to sleep over for two nights and then come back for her on Friday. She was dead asleep alongside me, with the covers pulled up over her head, so I left her alone and got dressed in the living room. Her car, a Ford Focus, had been running on fumes the previous evening, so I filled it up at the nearest gas station and then stopped off at a drive-thru for a bagel. Culinary note: I asked for the bagel to be toasted, with cream cheese on the side. Who the fuck toasts a bagel without slicing it first??? Sheesh.

Anyway, I returned to her place and was having my breakfast when T came out of the bedroom and plopped down beside me. I noticed she’d put on yoga pants and a loose-fitting sweatshirt, which clearly indicated she was officially "not in the mood." She is NOT a morning person, and that includes morning sex. I offered her half my bagel, which she declined. She’s also not a breakfast person. “Are you sure you want to leave today?” T asked. “I thought we settled that on Sunday,” I replied. “I’ll be back Friday afternoon and we’ll spend the weekend in St. Paul.” She gave me one of those inscrutable looks that leave guys like me clueless. “Well, Donna is coming over for dinner. We do this every few weeks and, besides, she wants to meet you.”

Donna was one of T’s former coworkers, a tall Nordic blonde who’d succumbed to T’s bisexual charms during a blizzard in February and was apparently still infatuated with my red-haired Viking princess. “You can leave if you want,” T teased, “but you’ll miss out on a fun dinner.” Something told me that dinner wasn’t the only thing I’d miss by heading north, so I agreed to delay my drive by a day. Hey – I may be clueless when it comes to women, but I like to think I’m not an idiot!

We spent most of the day pretty much the same as on Monday, watching TV, reading, and having light-hearted conversation. After homemade bean burritos for lunch, I agreed to help her sort through her massive clothes collection that took up most of a second bedroom. It was a claustrophobic environment dominated by two huge dressers her grandparents had left to her. Piles of clothes occupied every flat surface, but the drawers were nearly empty. Our task was to divide the wardrobe up into Donate and Keep. I suggested the latter category was likely to include “fits me now” and “I hope it’ll fit again someday.” That remark earned me a not-so-playful punch on my arm, followed immediately by an offer to “kiss and make it better.”

For about two hours, I pulled out articles of clothing as T passed judgment on each item’s future. It was really humid, even with the a/c running, so she'd changed into a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that had been cut down into shorts. Occasionally she felt compelled to try things on to see if they fit – some did, but many did not – which meant she was regularly showing me her tits while putting on blouses, and turning around to show off her lovely ass with each skirt or pair of pants we came across. There was hardly any floor space, so we were constantly bumping into each other. T was also being very tactile – stroking my arm, smacking me on the ass when I didn’t move out of her way fast enough, and delivering a series of random kisses. Finally, I got up the courage to ask about her behavior.

“You know,” I began apprehensively, “I can’t help but notice how affectionate you are. It’s like the old T has returned.” During past visits, she’d regularly initiated public displays of affection, but I never felt comfortable asking about this behavior – mostly because I didn’t want it to stop. “Why now; why me?” She froze with her hand halfway reaching for a hanger and turned to face me. “You really want to know?” she asked quietly. “Always,” I said. “I used to behave like this a lot, because I’m an affectionate person, but my actions kept getting taken the wrong way. Nearly every guy I’ve been with assumed I was coming on to them sexually, as in, I wanted to fuck them right then and there. You, on the other hand, never give me that vibe, because I know you truly care about me as a person, not just some sex object.”

I must have had a weird look on my face while trying to process what she’d said, because she stepped over the huge pile of clothes still on the floor and bumped up against me, wrapping her arms around my neck and planting a seriously hard kiss on my mouth. The phrase, “You know I adore you,” escaped my lips before I could even think about what I was saying. In return, T took half a step back and countered with, “Well, if you must know, I really DO want to fuck you, but that’ll have to wait because it’s almost time for me to go be with my grandson.” With that she giggled, pushed past me to climb out of the room, and called back in my direction as she was putting on her sneakers, “I’m watching him over at their place, because I don’t want to inflict him on you two days in a row. I’ll be back around 4:30.” And with that, she departed.

At 5:00 there was a knock on the door, so I hopped off the couch and went to answer it. T had previously texted me to say she wouldn’t be home until six o’clock but offered no further details. I opened up to greet a tall, slender woman with close-cropped blonde hair and a narrow face, carrying a grocery bag in each hand. I said, “You must be Donna,” at the same moment she said, “You must be Zac,” and we both laughed. I grabbed the bags out of her hands and took them straight to the kitchen. Since T lives in a double-wide trailer (err, “manufactured”) home, the counter was a mere three steps away. I explained that T was running late, and Donna countered with, “Yeah, she called to tell me that while I was at the Hy-Vee (the local supermarket), so I should just get dinner ready without her.” I offered to act as a backup chef, so we both did food prep. The menu included cucumber salad with onion, sliced tomatoes drizzled with olive oil, beer cheese soup, a baguette of French bread, and strawberry ice cream for dessert.

As we worked, we chatted amiably. I was curious about T’s experiences while working alongside Donna, and she confirmed that the stories I’d heard about harassment were true. “She just seems to attract asshole guys,” Donna said with conviction. Then, as she realized what she’d said, added, “Well, not you, obviously.” I laughed and countered with, “The jury might still be out on that one,” but she was quick to disagree. “Oh, no. T says you’re the sweetest guy. She told me you filled up her tank yesterday.” I couldn’t resist the double entendre. “You mean her car’s gas tank, right?” Donna burst out laughing. “Yeah – that, too.”

But before we could delve into additional semi-smutty talk, T returned and gave Donna a big hug and kiss. “Did you rope Zac into helping you with dinner?” she asked. “He volunteered and did a great job cutting up the vegetables,” she replied. I’d suggested we do the salad Hungarian style, dressed with sour cream, vinegar, and a dash of paprika. Lacking a dining table, we took our plates and bowls to the living room – five steps from the kitchen (!!) – and ate at the coffee table. I parked myself on T’s leather recliner, while the ladies sat on the couch.

After dessert, I gathered up the dishes and offered to do clean-up, to which there were no objections! While I was washing, drying and putting things away, T dragged out her cannabis paraphernalia and the two of them were soon “dabbing away.” Donna asked if they should save some for me, but T put the kibosh on that. “He’s got too much of a tolerance for pot,” T explained. “We split a tube Sunday night, and he didn’t even get high. I don’t think it affected him at all.” I chimed in with, “Well, it made me horny.” T responded with a laugh. “Geez, Zac, you’re hornier than any guy I know, so it clearly wasn’t the pot talking.” Naturally, Donna had to come back with, “So, how horny was he?” There was some whispering that followed between the two of them, and I was too far away to hear the conversation, except for the part where Donna said out loud, “How many times?” and then followed with “Oh, my god.”

I wrapped up my KP duties and started back toward my seat when T piped up with a request. “Zac, honey – can you go pick up something for us to drink? We’re too wasted to drive.” I reminded her we still had that Smirnoff swill from the night before, but T said, “Oh, I poured that out. It wasn’t very good.” That was the understatement of the week! Donna suggested a bottle of wine so, after a brief discussion of white versus red, they agreed “red” was the best choice. I grabbed my car keys and left the two of them puffing away on the couch.

The same woman who’d helped us the previous evening was back behind the counter. “How was that Smirnoff?” she asked. “Looking for another bottle?” [That's the issue with small towns; everyone knows your business!] I told her it was the worst stuff I’d tasted since that shot of vodka I’d sampled in a Bratislava grocery store decades earlier. That got a laugh out of her, and we chatted for about ten minutes about our respective overseas adventures, until I suddenly remembered why I was there. Two minutes and $15 later, I was on my way back to T’s place with what was reportedly a halfway decent bottle of California Cabernet.

As I walked into her place, the lights were off and no one was up front. I set the bottle down and slowly felt my way forward. The bedroom door was closed, and the rest of the place was nearly pitch-black. Because of the harsh Minnesota winters and the lack of decent insulation in her place, T keeps all the windows blocked year-round, because “it’s too much trouble to always be redoing them.” It’s like a goddamned cave in there; you can’t tell whether it’s day or night without opening the door and looking outside. I had my hands outstretched to aid in moving ahead, but thankfully it’s a very narrow hallway with no obstacles. I put my ear to the bedroom door but couldn’t make out any sounds. I thought about calling out, but instead I retraced my steps to the living room, stripped down to just my boxer briefs, and returned to where I’d just been standing.

As quietly as I could, I twisted the door handle and pulled the bedroom door open. The first thing I noticed was a pile of women’s clothes lying on the floor. Peeking around the corner, I saw two naked women erotically positioned and illuminated by the dim bedside lamp at the far side of the room. T was lying on her back, her thighs spread wide and the fingers of her left hand making slow circles around her clit. Donna was sitting on T’s face, grinding away, while the palms of her hands were pressed flat against the bedroom wall, since T’s double bed has no headboard. Neither woman was being particularly vocal – Donna was breathing hard, but quietly, whereas whatever sounds T was making were being directed straight into Donna’s vagina. I took off my boxers and began to stroke my cock, which was quickly at attention.

I was being quiet, but Donna turned her head and caught me out of the corner of her eye as I was standing at the side of the bed with my cock in my hand. “Guess—who’s—back?” Donna managed to announce, in between gasps for air. T mumbled something that I couldn’t understand, but Donna was apparently skilled at interpreting mouth-to-pussy speech. “She wants you to go down on her,” Donna translated, so I wasted no time climbing onto the bed and hopping to it. I pushed T’s hand aside and wrapped my lips around her little button-clit. I sucked on it hard, which really sets her off, and then I shoved two fingers deep into her pussy.

Eighteen months earlier, when T had the first of two back-to-back vaginal surgeries, she was worried they would affect her “pleasure parts,” as she called them. But for the past two nights, I was a witness that she was as orgasmic as she’d ever been. Meanwhile, Donna was raking her crotch up and down T’s mouth, and I looked up just as T took the hand she’d been using on her clit and stuck her middle finger deep into Donna’s ass. “Well, that’s an interesting turn of events,” I thought to myself. T was not a fan of anal play on herself, although she occasionally enjoyed it when I moistened my index finger and rimmed her butthole while simultaneously circling her clit with my tongue. She calls it “the double roundabout.” This was the first time I’d seen her finger-fuck another woman in the ass, although she’s never been shy about pounding a girlfriend’s other hole with her fingers. It didn’t take long for me to get T bucking and moaning, and I stayed with it until she exploded into a thigh-quivering orgasm.

After lifting myself up to catch a breath, I decided not to continue with more cunnilingus but instead mounted T, shoving my cock into her ultra-moist pussy. She made a half-hearted effort to push me away, but my 225 pounds was no match for her 140, so I stayed put. With Donna’s firm ass staring me in the face – she hadn’t dismounted from T’s face, despite already having had at least one orgasm – I balanced precariously on top of T and used my hands to grip Donna’s buttocks and spread them apart. Seconds later, she had the experience of two tongues on her, with one at each hole.

T mumbled something, with Donna apparently understanding her query, because she replied, “He’s got his tongue in my ass.” I sure did! But while focusing my attention on the shapely tush in front of me, I’d stopped fucking T and simply left my cock motionless, albeit balls-deep in her pussy. She seemed miffed by this lack of attention, because she responded by wrapping her legs around my thighs and humping up against me, fighting to attain yet another orgasm. Donna came with a grunt and a shudder, moaned, “Ohhhh, gawd!” and rolled off T’s face to collapse on the far side of the bed. Unfortunately, her unexpected dismount caused her knee to smack against the side of my head, and I think I might have lost consciousness for a few seconds. When I regained my senses, I’d rolled off T, having ended up on the same side of the bed where Donna had landed.

“Are you OK?” Donna asked, with concern in her voice. “Did I hurt you?” I pressed my hand to the spot where her knee had made contact with my skull. “No blood, no foul, I guess,” was my flippant reply, which was enough to elicit a hearty laugh from both women. It seemed like a good time to take a break, so I slid down to lie across the bottom edge of the mattress and laid my head on my outstretched arm. T said, “I think we could all use a drink,” and for once, I agreed that was a good idea. She climbed off the bed and slipped quickly into the kitchen, where we could hear her cursing because she couldn’t immediately find a corkscrew. I was torn between remaining in the bedroom and watching Donna play with her clit, which she was doing absent-mindedly, and following T into the kitchen to lend a hand with the wine. With the cry, “Zac – come here. I need you,” the decision was made for me.

I found T leaning back against the sink, the wine bottle in one hand and a fairly elaborate corkscrew device in the other. “I think I’m too high to figure this out,” she admitted, so I relieved her of both items and managed to extract the cork without damaging my hand, or my male ego. T looked absolutely delicious, nude with her pale pink nipples at full attention, her flushed skin accentuating the freckles on her chest, her red triangle down below curly and enticing, and the tang of pussy juice in the air. We stood there, wordlessly, for a few seconds – each checking out the other person’s body – until she reached out and wrapped her hand around my semi-tumescent cock. Then, she uttered a sentence any red-blooded male would love to hear in that situation: “I want to watch you fuck Donna, and then I’ll clean you both up.”

She and I have performed this act before, but the last time was pre-COVID. Back in 2019, while spending a fuck-filled four-day weekend in a St. Paul Airbnb, she’d picked up a waitress at the neighborhood pastry shop. We’d gone there for breakfast two days in a row, where during each visit T got more and more flirty with the young woman behind the counter. On Day Three, after telling me to pay the bill and then scram, she somehow talked Simone into coming over to our place once her shift ended at noon. Awaiting her arrival, T told me Simone was only interested in girl-on-girl sex, which was OK with me. And true to her word, Simone showed up on time, stripped off her clothes, and dove into T’s pussy as if she hadn’t had sex in months – which turned out to be the case. I sat on the sidelines, stroking and watching, as they both worked each other into multiple orgasmic frenzies. Taking a break, T said to Simone, “I’m thinking about sucking Zac’s cock, because I love the taste of his cum, but I’d like it even better if it came dripping out of your pussy.” Simone seemed more than a bit skeptical, until T told her that I’d do her doggy-style so she didn’t have to see me fucking her, and that I’d do my best to ejaculate quickly. Given the stroke job I’d been doing on myself the previous 30 minutes, that last part wasn’t going to be a problem. Simone agreed, somewhat reluctantly, and I took her from behind – a deliciously tight 22-year-old pussy that needed only half a dozen pumps to get blasted. T fulfilled her part of the bargain and even managed to make Simone orgasm one last time as my man-jizz ended up all over T’s face and then down her throat.

On this evening, however, there was no reluctant acceptance on Donna’s part. I carried three full wine glasses into the bedroom, distributed them accordingly, and then T announced the next stage in our hours-long fuck-fest. As soon as T explained what she wanted us to do, Donna and I looked at each other and asked, nearly simultaneously, “How do you want me?” That got all three of us laughing, but T had her own idea. “Do her missionary, Zac, so the cum won’t leak out before I gobble it up.” Thankfully I wasn’t drinking from my wineglass at that moment, because I would have probably done a spit-take onto her lovely striped cotton sheets. Instead, I drained the last of the liquid and handed my glass to T, who set it down on the nightstand closest to the bedroom door. Then I dove forward to shove my face into Donna’s crotch.

I’d caught her by surprise, but she didn’t voice a single objection, instead sliding her butt forward so she could lie flat on the bed. I tongued her slit for a minute or two – she tasted really good – and then hopped up onto my knees and guided my dick into her pussy hole. Donna reached up and pushed against my shoulders. I thought she was doing that to get me off her, but she only wanted to create enough room to pull her knees up and press them against my chest. This was actually a very effective fucking position for me, because her legs acted as a sort of spring against which I could thrust and retract. She supplied at least half of the motion, and I was able to hang onto her knees for leverage instead of having to use my arms to bear the weight of my body.

We built up a good rhythm, with lots of heavy breathing on both our parts. Meanwhile, T was sitting cross-legged on her side of the bed, finger-fucking herself with an in-and-out motion that matched my own pussy pounding. Just as T said to Donna, “Don’t be surprised, but he sometimes takes a while to come,” I froze on the downstroke as my cock pumped three or four streams of cum deep into Donna’s pussy. All she said was, “Done?” and when I could only nod my head, she used her legs to push me off her while holding her ass up off the bed. T swooped in and dove for the gusto, first licking up the drops of cum that had dripped off my cock as I withdrew, and then using her fingers to dig deep for the rest of the load.

I managed to stand up at the foot of the bed, knees sagging a bit against the edge of the mattress to maintain my balance. T was really slurping up what I’d left for her, and I jacked my dick a bit as I watched. Having completed her task on Donna, T spun around and licked me clean. “Fuck, that was fun!” she exclaimed, and then guzzled down the rest of the wine in her glass.

We’d easily passed the three-hour mark, and I was exhausted. The ladies climbed off the bed and headed to the bathroom, while I flopped down onto the mattress with the aim of slipping off to dreamland. T had other ideas, however. “Hey,” she called out, which awakened me from my near-slumber. “Donna’s staying over, so you’ll have to camp out on the couch.” I began to object, but my argument fell on deaf ears. “There’s just no room, Zac. Sorry. You’ll find an extra pillow and a blanket in the room where my clothes are.” I passed Donna on my way down the hall, pillow and blanket in hand. She’d stopped off in the kitchen for a glass of water and patted me on the ass while I was setting things up on the couch. I straightened up and gave her a kiss on the cheek, but she put her hand gently on the side of my face – coincidentally, the same side where she’d kneed me earlier – and gave me a deep kiss on the lips. “I’ll see you in the morning, OK?” she whispered. I thanked her for an amazingly fun time, which got a shy smile from her before she returned to the bedroom and closed the door.

I’m sure I fell asleep within minutes of stretching out on the couch. At six-foot-zero, I had just enough room to lie on my side (my preferred sleeping position) with my knees slightly bent. Even so, my head was pressed against one arm of the couch, and my feet rested up against the other one. Many hours later – I had no idea of the time, since the windows were blocked and my iPhone was in the other room – I was awakened by something stroking my lower leg. Forgetting where I was for a moment, I imagined it was my cat, Jemima, since she rubs up against me every morning as if to say, “Hey, human. It’s time for my breakfast.” So, when I opened my eyes to see Donna perched on the edge of the couch, as naked as she’d been the night before, I regained full consciousness damned quickly.
She put her finger to her lips and motioned for me to slide over. As skinny as she was, there was still hardly any room to accommodate her lying next to me, so she ended up mostly on top, one knee between my legs, her well-trimmed crotch pressed against my hip, her breasts against my chest, and her mouth a mere inch from mine. “I know T isn’t into morning sex,” Donna said in a very low voice, “but I hear you’re quite the fan, right?” I agreed and lifted my head up so I could give her a good-morning kiss. She slipped her tongue into my mouth while reaching down and wrapping her fingers around my rapidly rising cock. “Mmm, morning wood is the best wood, don’t you agree?” she teased. She squeezed me gently, and we continued to make out as she ground her pussy against my hip bone. Once she determined I was sufficiently erect, Donna threw her leg across my body and straddled me effortlessly. “You were on top last night, so now it’s my turn,” she said. Before I could object – not that it even occurred to me to do so – she had my cock all the way inside her pussy and was rocking back and forth on it with gusto. I reached up and tugged on her small nipples, which were like rock-hard cherries, and she worked her way into two very quick and enthusiastic orgasms.
Donna climbed off after her second orgasm but recognized I hadn’t had one. She teased me a bit with her tongue on the very tip of my cock, pushing my hands away as I tried (unsuccessfully) to engage her mouth more fully. “Be a good boy and put your hands behind your head,” she instructed, “or else I’ll leave you to take matters into your own hands.” At my age, I wasn’t sure how much cum I could muster, given the prodigious amount I’d pumped into her pussy just six or seven hours earlier, but any blow job was better than no blow job. [I think I read that saying needlepointed on a pillow, once.] Donna continued to tease my twitching cock, using only her tongue and resting her hands on either side of my body for balance. She must have toyed with me like this for 10 or 15 minutes before finally relenting and taking my dick all the way into her mouth. Her tongue action continued to be amazing as she bobbed her head up and down only slightly. Still, it was enough of a turn-on for me that I managed to ooze out a bit of cum as I orgasmed. Donna gave me a pretty smile, climbed off the couch, and said she was heading to the shower. “You could probably use one, too,” she insisted, so I joined her under a thin stream of warm water and soaped up her body as she returned the favor. We didn’t get into anything more sexual, but I truly enjoyed the mutual contact.

T climbed out of her bedroom about an hour later, already dressed for the day in a t-shirt and yoga pants. Donna and I were sitting on the couch, a respectable distance away from each other, as we watched a local TV news show. T greeted each of us with a kiss and then went into the kitchen to brew herself a cup of tea. Upon her return, she squeezed in between us and stretched out her legs so her feet rested on the coffee table. Looking at each of us in turn, she asked, “So, did you two have a nice morning fuck?” Before either of us could answer, though, she leaned over and kissed Donna on the mouth. “Thanks for taking one for the team,” she giggled. “You know I’m not into pre-noon dick.” I shot back, “I guess I'll set my alarm for 12:05 then.” T stuck out her tongue at me and said, “You’re leaving for St. Paul as soon as you get packed, and Donna will help me with my clothing once you leave.”

After that comeback, I had nothing more to say, so I placed my pjs and my shaving kit into my suitcase and headed for the door. T forestalled me as I passed through the kitchen and wrapped her arms around me in a sensuous hug. “I’ll see you on Friday, lover,” she breathed into my ear, and moments later I was in my car. My final, fleeting thought as I drove down Broadway toward the highway was, “Well, I think my tongue AND my cock can use the three-day break.”

I confess I would love to fulfill this sex fantasy.
Sodomize a hot blond milf and her two hot thin twin sexy blond daughters anywhere from 9-16. They have to be hot though and look like sexual promiscuous with make up and non messy hair(like straightened hair). Have them tongue punch my fart box pump their butt holes until I fill their tight pink little butt holes up with semen then have them fart the cum into each others mouth and proceed to cum swap back and forth until they slowly drip it into the others nose to be snorted up then hawked up and spat out on the others face then have mommy lick it off and eat it while I film the whole thing.

I went to finish some Punch list Items on house we just built for a client who rented it to a single father and Son. The Father told me to just go in his Son who is in his first year of not quite college. would not be home till 3:00 I get a chance to grab my parts and head over just before 1:00 knock softly open door say hello softly hear music playing think the kid left it on and walk down the hall to the bedrooms to work on replacing the non matching handle on one and open the door to see the Son laying on his belly ass propped up on pillows. Getting fucked in his ass by a upper classmen. Who Panicked Pulled out stumbled grabbed his pants and fled Leaving the Son there Ass exposed slightly Gaped and with a Raging hard little Cock. He got up and put on his pants and coyly asked me if I was going to tell his Dad? I told him No it was something I thought was better left unsaid and he asked me if I had ever done anything like that and I honestly said I hadn't that I was straight and had only had sex with women Then Pointed out that I Loved Anal Sex. He wanted to know why I had not ever consider having anal sex with another man and I pointed out they are Men. not a cute fem boy with a round Little Bubble Butt like his. I got another smile and he thanked Me and said he better get back to school.

The Rub is in our tiny town he has made a point to run into me and Talk 5-6 times in the last week. I have learned so much about what he has done starting at what age and How He likes having a Fat Cock deep in his Ass. He knows hes killing me because he can see my cocks swollen in my pants after our talks and has mentioned it Looks Very Fat.

I am about to Burst thinking about this kid and would be happy share more of what we have discussed if anyones interested?

Anal whore punch fisting and prolapse and a huge butt plug

I haven't showered or changed my panties or socks since Friday. I've been wearing the same outfit since Saturday. I drank and smoked and sucked so much over the weekend I can barely even remember who I fucked. I fell asleep topless in somebody's backyard Saturday night. Some how I got a black eye at some point. I've always wanted a man to punch me in the face while he was fucking me, I'm sure all that's all that happened. Then I spent the next two nights at my bosses place sucking his dick and licking his butt and convincing him I'm worth keeping around even though I'm pretty much a worthless employee. Took a pair of his dirty boxers and socks and I've been smelling them while I play with my clit and imagining being on my knees in the parking garage at the mall with him and all the other dudes from work standing around me in a circle and farting in my face. His sweaty boxers smell so good. I just "accidentally" texted one of my other coworkers a picture of my tits. Then I apologized immediately but asked if he liked them. Now I''m pretty much just dropping all subtlety and texting him "Fuck it, I'm stoned and I need some hard dick, wanna come pick me up, buy me McDonalds, and fuck my face in the parking lot?" before even waiting for a response. Still nothing. Sending him a picture of my pussy. Because I have no self respect I'm just a skinny little cumpig. At least I have my bosses dirty socks to put in my mouth and boxers to smell while I fuck myself. Maybe next time I should accidentally text my big brother. I can ask him what he thinks of his little sister's pussy and then lie and say it wasn't meant for him. Damn my pussy's so wet. My roommates are gonna be so mad at my when they get home.

Okay, so I'm a little bit of an embellisher. Give me a break. I'm fucking horny.

The Mcgriddle Argument

Tucker: "Dude-that thing looks disgusting. It has to be nasty, with the syrupshit in it. What is that?"

SlingBlade: "I can only assume from your cavalier attitude that you haveyet to partake of the wonderment that is the McGriddle. Let me enlighten you. What happens is the One True God grows them on treesin the Elysian Fields using a heretofore unused incantation. He then proceeds to magic them down to your local eatery where whatever Ghetto Bastard cook your McDonalds has rescued from welfare that week proceeds to wrap it in cellophane and pass it along to you, the fortunate consumer. You proceed to ingest this finery in the vain hope that your obviously overmatched taste buds can somehow grasp
the delectable intricacies it is suddenly faced with. Is that egg? Why yes it is, and bacon too. But wait-they didn't add ... yes they did, yes they did indeed. They added cheese. And then, then my friends, they wrapped it in a sumptuous pancake bun! As your taste buds try to process that amazing piece of information, IT hits them ...the syrup nugget. THE MOTHERFUCKING SYRUP NUGGET! It announces itself with a burst of confectionery grandiosity the likes of which your palate has never seen."

Tucker: "So you like them?"

SlingBlade: "If you EVER speak ill of the McGriddle again I will personally force-feed you one while I fuck you in the butt using the wrapper as a condom and then donkey punch you when the infused syrup nuggets explode in your mouth."