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A.D.D. - Catch of the Day (583 hits)

Category: General

Rating: 1.6 on 6 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by Caulfield (View user info) at 2006-07-31 07:17:57 EDT


Pressed into action? I'd rather be pressed into submission. I'm standing—arms tied—before two tall ladies, each decked out in tawny, light-catching leather; each with a name that fits their separate moods: Sunshine, the cheerful; and Rainfall, the malevolent. Their work is an expression of yin-yang masochism, good cop-bad cop, a cowboy and an Indian. Sunshine rubs her breasts on my face, and its as if the warmth of her soul can pass through them—her mammary libations filling me with her wholesome love. She pulls away and smiles, teasingly. Then she returns, leans down, and whispers into my ear—so kind, so sexy, her sweet breath making me tingle like magic. I wish it would last forever but it won't. If she were a time, she'd be a heartbeat; if she were a story, she'd be the climax: fleeting and ethereal, a joy in the moment and a mournful memory ever after.

She's so attentive that she almost makes me forget about the other, the Hun, the butcher, the caliph of a North-end massage parlor that caters to the kinky and the depraved. Coming in and hearing her name, I expected her to strike from above, a torrent of wet, sloshy pain; but she remains below, teasing and biting, whipping and screeching. Sunshine is my petal, but Rainfall is my thorn. The latter now cuts me with a hook—she digs into my ass and yanks up. I scream, "Oh, God," and "thank-you," and she pulls harder, goes deeper. I scream again and again, and my voice escapes Sunshine's peachy flesh and buries itself in the padded walls. My cries dissolve into the grey vacuity of the sound-proof room before I can even note them, before my mouth can freeze into its latest, impassioned grimace

Rainfall is angry because I enjoy it. She says as much. So she sticks a heal into my thigh and yanks for all her worth. I feel it for an instant, then it is gone—the hook, the heel, everything. The world is getting fuzzy; my head is sagging. I think one of them is slapping me, not for pleasure, but to wake me up. It must be Sunshine, I can still smell her golden hair. Now that is fading away, my throat is rubbery—their concerned voices becoming distant. It's happened again. Another blackout.

Does it get any better?








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User Reviews


Submitted by inion_de_trua (user info) at 2006-07-31 11:04:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

where the hell is his head?!??!?!?!

Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2006-07-31 10:57:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

You must whip it.

Submitted by UnderOathMeal (user info) at 2006-07-31 08:52:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

When I read this I kept thinking of the word 'immolation' but dictionary.com says there isn't a correlation.





Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-07-31 07:36:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

erm.........not sure.

Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-07-31 07:22:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

<ejaculates>

Submitted by Caulfield (user info) at 2006-07-31 07:21:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Competition link.

http://www.ubersite.com/m/91007


Look, Marge, I'm sorry I haven't been a better husband, I'm sorry
about the time I tried to make gravy in the bathtub, I'm sorry I used
your wedding dress to wax the car, and I'm sorry -- oh well, let's
just say I'm sorry for the whole marriage up to this point.

-- Homer Simpson
Marge on the Lam