textfiles/sex/EROTICA/S/smurfsex.txt

It's time to tell the truth about Smurfs.

You see, Smurfs are a lot like other folks; they have dreams
and ambitions, deep, thoughtful conversations with each
other, and good and bad times.
    "But," people ask, "do Smurfs have..... you know,......sex?"
    The answer is a resounding and emphatic "YES!"
And why shouldn't they?  They're people, too.
What most people don't know is why Smurfs are blue.  Well,
the reason is because Smurfs only have sex once a year.
    Face it: if you had sex only once a year, you'd be blue,too.
    Once a year, in the Smurf village, flags and banners fly
happily in the breeze, proclaiming that the day of the
annual Smuckfest has arrived.  Birds sing and the Sun comes
out to watch, despite the weather Smurf's direst predictions.
    In the middle of town, Papa Smurf gives a brief speech
explaining the origin of the Smuckfest; how Dr. C. Everett
Koop came to the village and warned all the Smurfs about
AIDS.  Papa Smurf knew that no one made condoms small enough
for a Smurf (even though everyone knows that all male Smurfs
are uniformly well-hung, for their size), so he decreed that
all Smurfs would only smuck one day a year.
    "Smucking one day a year will help us identify any diseases
we may transmit to one another, and keep them from spreading
to the animals in the forest," declaimed Papa Smurf.
"Besides, it will give Smurfette a chance to rest."
    Yes!  Smurfette must rest.  For, as everyone knows,
Smurfette is the only female Smurf in the village, and after
a full day of having vigorous, rabid sex with two hundred
cunt-crazed little blue men, she needs a break.
    So, on the appointed day, Papa Smurf bids everyone throw
their inhibitions to the wind and immerse themselves in
debauchery. And, as is his privilege, Papa Smurf throws out
the first throe.
    At his signal, Smurfette unties the skintight blue band she
must use to suppress her natural bustiness, and her
astounding tits spring forth into the daylight.  The Sun
gleams lecherously on the smooth, blue flesh, nipples
crinkling in the light of day from her soon-to-be-unbridled lust.
    Smurfette lay in wait, unclad, save the spike-heeled white
boots she has donned just for the occasion.  Her long,
blonde hair cascades down her back and lasciviously outlines
her buttocks, clinging like a dirty old man's gaze to each
curve and dimple.
    Her cunt winks lewdly from behind the golden shield of pubic
glory, already glistening in mad anticipation of each and
every raging rod it would receive that day.  And receive
them gladly it would, for hers is the indefatigable
furburger, and she hungered for the sauce blended in the
heat of passion.
    Smurfette turns to Papa Smurf and lifts her stupendous
breasts with their turgid nipples to his lips.  He takes
each one, in turn, into his mouth, where his tongue dances
the Fabulous Fandango around the areolae, as Smurfette moans
like a cat in heat.
    Then, when poor Smurfette can take no more, Papa Smurf drops
to his bony little knees and sprinkles his magic
deSmurfilating dust on Smurfette's engorged cunt lips.
Presto!  The lovely blonde braiding material falls from her,
leaving her shaved smooth as a hard-boiled egg.
    "Oh, Papa Smurf!" she cries.  "Encore!!  Encore!!" as
magnificent tingles race through her pulsating pussy.
    Papa Smurf does not disappoint the damsel in distress;  he
slides his hands under her tight little blue ass and parts
her moistness with his thumbs.  As the hot, funky juices
begin to run down his arms, he plunges tongue-first and
tonsil-deep into her wiggling womanhood.  Smurfette gasps as
the talented tongue begins to do its magic, and her cunt
clutches at it like a baby bird after a worm.
    Cradling his head to her crotch, Smurfette's hips begin to
slowly grind and twitch, for Papa Smurf's tongue has
unerringly found her G-spot, and Smurfette begins the slow,
hot, agonizing rise to ecstacy.  "Oh, make me smurf, baby
make me smurf!" she pants, each stroke of his tongue causing
her to throb and clutch.
    As Smurfette's moans and cries rise in pitch higher and
higher, the crowd gazes in amazement at the mighty mound of
meat struggling to escape from Papa Smurf's pants.  This,
then, is the legendary Trouser Titan, bulging forth in a
determined attempt to split the barrier.
    Just when Smurfette is certain that she will die from sheer
sensory overload, Papa  murf flings off his Levis and frees
the Magnificent Heat-Seeking Moisture Missle from its
cradle. Maddened with blind lust, Smurfette hurls Papa Smurf
to the platform and leaps shrieking into the air, landing
unerringly on his Titanic Totem.
    Suddenly filled, Smurfette's cunt explodes in a monster
orgasm, the force of which propels her screaming into the
air again and again, each time plummeting her onto the
Potent Purple Pecker and triggering another climax.
    Before Smurfette can achieve orbit, Papa Smurf grab her legs
and pulls her to the ground.  Swiftly, he stands, pulling
her to her knees.  Gasping in awe, Smurfette  gets a head-on
view of his hard-on, glistening in the light like a war
staff.
    The sight of this shining stud is too much for Smurfette,
who immediately grabs both of Papa smurf's bulging balls in
her hands and pulls him to her waiting mouth.  With
preternatural skill and primeval hunger, Smurfette devours
the monster cock, licking and sucking like a starving child
with an ice cream cone.
    His ass knotting like a sailor's anchor rope, Papa Smurf
pounds into Smurfette's mouth with furious strokes.  As he
reaches his blazing climax, he forces Smurfette to take all
thirteen and 7/8ths inches of blue tube steak and fires
round after pulsing round of blue goo down her ravenous
throat.

"Hurray!!", shouts the crowd.  "Now it's OUR turn!!"

    Suddenly the town square erupts with scenes of azure
carnality, as 200 tiny blue asses appear in the sunlight.
200 raging cocks swarm toward Smurfette's waiting and ever-
willing cunt, ready to make her scream for mercy as they
scream for more. 400 bouncing balls follow each other toward
the nearest available
orifice, making Smurfette wish there were more of her.
    Those lucky enough to find access to Smurfette's fabulous
form begin their crazed humping, as others find their
schlongs being stroked as fast as she can grab.  Those whose
time will come later are coming now, as their friends clutch
lustily at their forbidden fruits, flinging frothy fuck-foam
far and wide.
    Up the ass!  Down the throat!  Backhand, forehand,
underhand, in the armpit or behind the knee, the Smurfs
erupt in a display of orgasmic prowess to shame the most
devoted student of the Kama Sutra.  Soon the street become
hazardous to navigate (and navigate one must), as the square
gets deeper and deeper in the collective come.
    Hour after hour, the orgy rampages on.
Gradually, as night falls, the screams of orgasmic ecstasy
turn to the moans and sighs of deep contentment, with the
occasional whimper from an over-enthusiastic sodomite.  Soon
all is quiet, as Smurf helps Smurf back to Home and
Preparation H.  Tubes of Chap-Stick are quickly distributed
to soothe aching lips, and aloe gel is applied (as are lips,
if it is too stimulating the citizen's members to ease the
burning.
    As the exhausted (and completely sated) Smurfs lie in sexual
stupor, gentle rains  come (not them, too!) to wash away all
traces of the fleshfest that was.
    And you wondered why Smurfs are always in such a good
mood.....