“Crotch Rot”
She was walking down the shit steam block, when it hit her.
Crotch rot.
Itchy, burning, awful, wet and rawness that spreads like an awful oily sebaceous cyst that will not go away with a bit of peanut butter.
Why, you ask?
Well, because much like breathing, us humans must walk; hence crotch-rot, an inevitable evil that infects the pubic area and thighs.
Throbbing and reddening,
There is no relief, it’s infectious and only the complete determination to stop walking and sit will provide healing and escape.
So, if you find yourself, burning and feeling raw, don’t think about the last person or animal you may have fucked.
Instead, are you walking?
Ah, yes…It is crotch rot.
She visits in the heat of day, in camel toe jeans, and sagging britches. She comes to steal your peace, your joy, and brings the inevitable stop, sit, and lazily walk with pride.
Stride your ass home to chair, remove your pants and examine the raw, red, stinging area.
Cream it, air it, and let it be.
It yells procrastination; it has broken your will, so submit to the rash.
Let its will overcome you and rest my love, rest. Heal for she will return and next time be armed with baby powder.
THE END
“Deal with the Devil”
They pulled over off to the side of the road,
She had already unzipped his pants and lowered her head over his engorged cock. Back and forth her mouth slammed against his crotch, taking in every inch till she could stand it no more.
She was determined to cum and clearly he wasn’t going to bust a nut in her mouth.
So, she submitted unto the calling of her wet cunt, slid her pants down, her thong to the side and mounted him.
Somehow, fucking in the car seemed like more of a better idea than the actual implementation of the idea. His cock didn’t feel nearly as big inside her vagina as it did in her mouth, and she was thoroughly disappointed, but kept fucking all the same.
He sat beneath her, eyes closed and mouth open, making some weird moaning sound, that disturbed the shit out of her.
She wanted it all to end, but shit, she had given this man her pussy for the night and God dammit, she needed to cum!
She called out to Satan himself; pleading for an orgasm and almost instantly she began to cum….
She could feel every part of her wet innards throbbing, tensing up and streams of energy unlike anything she had ever felt flowing through her body.
It was intense, it was scary, but it was good.
She moaned, screamed, shook and rocked in agonizing glory, and then as quickly as it had begun, it ended. It was over. She was once again bored.
She slid over to the passenger seat, reaching aimlessly around for her pants.
“Um, can I go home now,” she asked the guy next to her.
“Um, sure,” he replied.
She had let death in, and there was no turning back.
She would now do the bidding of the devil and all for a moment of pleasure.
THE END
“Memoirs of an Internet Whore”
I really want to fuck you in the ass he said to her, and she peered back at him on the screen.
“They don’t pay me enough for this shit” she thought as she smiled high of the green she had inhaled.
25 fuckin’ cents a minute to try to make these men cum, so she could stay at home and play mommy during the day and whore from the hours of 11pm- 6am.
How had the world failed this woman so much, that she was now forced to shove strange objects up her ass, clip mouse traps to her engorged breasts, and squirt milk into her own mouth?
All for the love of paying a bill or two, and making a living.
But, holy crooked-teeth, what kind of living would she really make at 25 cents a minute when the guys came loads in seconds.
It was demeaning, gross, and horrified her, but while she inhaled the smoke deeply she reminded herself to become numb, dead, and nothing. After all, thats what they wanted.
Some cum whore who would, fuck, suck, clip, dip, burn, cut, and humiliate herself and him.
Memoirs of an Internet whore.