144 lines
7.5 KiB
Plaintext
144 lines
7.5 KiB
Plaintext
It's time to tell the truth about Smurfs.
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You see, Smurfs are a lot like other folks; they have dreams
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and ambitions, deep, thoughtful conversations with each
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other, and good and bad times.
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"But," people ask, "do Smurfs have..... you know,......sex?"
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The answer is a resounding and emphatic "YES!"
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And why shouldn't they? They're people, too.
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What most people don't know is why Smurfs are blue. Well,
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the reason is because Smurfs only have sex once a year.
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Face it: if you had sex only once a year, you'd be blue,too.
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Once a year, in the Smurf village, flags and banners fly
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happily in the breeze, proclaiming that the day of the
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annual Smuckfest has arrived. Birds sing and the Sun comes
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out to watch, despite the weather Smurf's direst predictions.
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In the middle of town, Papa Smurf gives a brief speech
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explaining the origin of the Smuckfest; how Dr. C. Everett
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Koop came to the village and warned all the Smurfs about
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AIDS. Papa Smurf knew that no one made condoms small enough
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for a Smurf (even though everyone knows that all male Smurfs
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are uniformly well-hung, for their size), so he decreed that
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all Smurfs would only smuck one day a year.
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"Smucking one day a year will help us identify any diseases
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we may transmit to one another, and keep them from spreading
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to the animals in the forest," declaimed Papa Smurf.
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"Besides, it will give Smurfette a chance to rest."
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Yes! Smurfette must rest. For, as everyone knows,
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Smurfette is the only female Smurf in the village, and after
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a full day of having vigorous, rabid sex with two hundred
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cunt-crazed little blue men, she needs a break.
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So, on the appointed day, Papa Smurf bids everyone throw
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their inhibitions to the wind and immerse themselves in
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debauchery. And, as is his privilege, Papa Smurf throws out
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the first throe.
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At his signal, Smurfette unties the skintight blue band she
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must use to suppress her natural bustiness, and her
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astounding tits spring forth into the daylight. The Sun
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gleams lecherously on the smooth, blue flesh, nipples
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crinkling in the light of day from her soon-to-be-unbridled lust.
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Smurfette lay in wait, unclad, save the spike-heeled white
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boots she has donned just for the occasion. Her long,
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blonde hair cascades down her back and lasciviously outlines
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her buttocks, clinging like a dirty old man's gaze to each
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curve and dimple.
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Her cunt winks lewdly from behind the golden shield of pubic
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glory, already glistening in mad anticipation of each and
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every raging rod it would receive that day. And receive
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them gladly it would, for hers is the indefatigable
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furburger, and she hungered for the sauce blended in the
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heat of passion.
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Smurfette turns to Papa Smurf and lifts her stupendous
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breasts with their turgid nipples to his lips. He takes
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each one, in turn, into his mouth, where his tongue dances
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the Fabulous Fandango around the areolae, as Smurfette moans
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like a cat in heat.
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Then, when poor Smurfette can take no more, Papa Smurf drops
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to his bony little knees and sprinkles his magic
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deSmurfilating dust on Smurfette's engorged cunt lips.
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Presto! The lovely blonde braiding material falls from her,
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leaving her shaved smooth as a hard-boiled egg.
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"Oh, Papa Smurf!" she cries. "Encore!! Encore!!" as
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magnificent tingles race through her pulsating pussy.
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Papa Smurf does not disappoint the damsel in distress; he
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slides his hands under her tight little blue ass and parts
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her moistness with his thumbs. As the hot, funky juices
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begin to run down his arms, he plunges tongue-first and
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tonsil-deep into her wiggling womanhood. Smurfette gasps as
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the talented tongue begins to do its magic, and her cunt
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clutches at it like a baby bird after a worm.
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Cradling his head to her crotch, Smurfette's hips begin to
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slowly grind and twitch, for Papa Smurf's tongue has
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unerringly found her G-spot, and Smurfette begins the slow,
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hot, agonizing rise to ecstacy. "Oh, make me smurf, baby
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make me smurf!" she pants, each stroke of his tongue causing
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her to throb and clutch.
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As Smurfette's moans and cries rise in pitch higher and
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higher, the crowd gazes in amazement at the mighty mound of
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meat struggling to escape from Papa Smurf's pants. This,
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then, is the legendary Trouser Titan, bulging forth in a
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determined attempt to split the barrier.
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Just when Smurfette is certain that she will die from sheer
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sensory overload, Papa murf flings off his Levis and frees
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the Magnificent Heat-Seeking Moisture Missle from its
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cradle. Maddened with blind lust, Smurfette hurls Papa Smurf
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to the platform and leaps shrieking into the air, landing
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unerringly on his Titanic Totem.
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Suddenly filled, Smurfette's cunt explodes in a monster
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orgasm, the force of which propels her screaming into the
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air again and again, each time plummeting her onto the
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Potent Purple Pecker and triggering another climax.
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Before Smurfette can achieve orbit, Papa Smurf grab her legs
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and pulls her to the ground. Swiftly, he stands, pulling
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her to her knees. Gasping in awe, Smurfette gets a head-on
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view of his hard-on, glistening in the light like a war
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staff.
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The sight of this shining stud is too much for Smurfette,
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who immediately grabs both of Papa smurf's bulging balls in
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her hands and pulls him to her waiting mouth. With
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preternatural skill and primeval hunger, Smurfette devours
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the monster cock, licking and sucking like a starving child
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with an ice cream cone.
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His ass knotting like a sailor's anchor rope, Papa Smurf
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pounds into Smurfette's mouth with furious strokes. As he
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reaches his blazing climax, he forces Smurfette to take all
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thirteen and 7/8ths inches of blue tube steak and fires
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round after pulsing round of blue goo down her ravenous
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throat.
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"Hurray!!", shouts the crowd. "Now it's OUR turn!!"
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Suddenly the town square erupts with scenes of azure
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carnality, as 200 tiny blue asses appear in the sunlight.
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200 raging cocks swarm toward Smurfette's waiting and ever-
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willing cunt, ready to make her scream for mercy as they
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scream for more. 400 bouncing balls follow each other toward
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the nearest available
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orifice, making Smurfette wish there were more of her.
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Those lucky enough to find access to Smurfette's fabulous
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form begin their crazed humping, as others find their
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schlongs being stroked as fast as she can grab. Those whose
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time will come later are coming now, as their friends clutch
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lustily at their forbidden fruits, flinging frothy fuck-foam
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far and wide.
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Up the ass! Down the throat! Backhand, forehand,
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underhand, in the armpit or behind the knee, the Smurfs
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erupt in a display of orgasmic prowess to shame the most
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devoted student of the Kama Sutra. Soon the street become
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hazardous to navigate (and navigate one must), as the square
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gets deeper and deeper in the collective come.
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Hour after hour, the orgy rampages on.
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Gradually, as night falls, the screams of orgasmic ecstasy
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turn to the moans and sighs of deep contentment, with the
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occasional whimper from an over-enthusiastic sodomite. Soon
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all is quiet, as Smurf helps Smurf back to Home and
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Preparation H. Tubes of Chap-Stick are quickly distributed
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to soothe aching lips, and aloe gel is applied (as are lips,
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if it is too stimulating the citizen's members to ease the
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burning.
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As the exhausted (and completely sated) Smurfs lie in sexual
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stupor, gentle rains come (not them, too!) to wash away all
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traces of the fleshfest that was.
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And you wondered why Smurfs are always in such a good
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mood.....
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