Germy fell; black vortextual waves of descending measure enticing inciting exciting inviting disquieting the smell of Buddy’s Brylcreem as nose breaks on through to the other side and off with the pixies though to be Frank, not Ernest in the truth it was Black with no Deal alien moon face motherfuckerbopper DJ Tanner smelly unfunny chill’in with uxorious corpse lover cocksuckin’ cupboard lurkin’ frotteurer.
Germy awoke in a sweat, pungent with the scent of his overly active triboluminescent testes. Light poured out from the bedclothes from his activity. Steam rose suggestively. It was the dream - that same dream always. Visions of fire, a Pegasus and the rank taste of Semtex in his mouth. Germy masturbated himself into a colossal climax, spraying the ceiling with lashings of his vital reproductive fluids.
“Aaaaaaah tin-pot,” he said to himself as he gently stroked his stiff member from which a small red worm emerged, “I’ve really got myself a Ree-land.”
He was amazed that at he was able to masturbate while tied to Mad Abdul’s torture bed. He then emerged into full consciousness and saw the grinning face of Mad Abdul in the semi-darkness. Abdul was wiping his hands with a tissue.
Inflict Kafe Gavani On The World
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