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*a few moments later*
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HUSTLER LETTERS
PERFECT PERFECTIONIST
Forty-five minutes before closing time I looked around and saw lovebirds tucked into booths, crusty regulars lined up at the bar, band groupies swaying and gyrating on the dance floor, and tons of schmucks just like me. Fuck, I was horny. The prospect of pussy was really the only reason I’d gone out that evening.
Guess I wasn’t alone. The ratio of guys to girls in the club was like three-to-one. Since Irene dumped me, I’d endured two months of miserable, self-imposed, pathetic celibacy. Tonight I was finally ready to end it, and so far I hadn’t met anyone. I was desperate.
Then I saw her, mixing drinks behind the back bar, setting up shot after shot. She had long, honey-blond hair and an angel’s smile, delicate shoulders topping curves stacked on top of curves. I imagined her big, lush titties wrapped around my throbber and kind of got lost in her cleavage for a minute. When I looked up, she was staring back at me. “Last call,” she announced, but what I heard was, “Fuck me!”
With single-minded devotion, I stuck to my barstool till closing time, chatting the beauty up and watching her work. And I noticed the way she worked: methodically lining up the glasses from tall to small, exactly the same amount in every single shot, never a spill. Anyway, I got lucky. By the time the lights came on, she’d agreed to come home with me.
During the trip, Kelli brought up what she called her obsessive-compulsive disorder, telling me how she always had to do the same thing the same way—her way— over and over till she got it perfect. She said it applied to everything: bartending, exercising…“Even cocksucking!” she added with a smile. I pressed down on the gas till I was doing 60 in a 35.
Inside my apartment, Kelli immediately took over, dropping to her knees on the living room floor. In seconds my pants and briefs were puddled around my ankles, and she was kissing her way up my leg, inch by inch—32 kisses, she told me later—till her swirling tongue reached my ball sac and went to town. My pecker was reaching for my belly button by the time she sucked one fat nad into her mouth and gently nursed on it. I closed my eyes as Kelli moved from one jewel to the other, nibbling, lapping, sucking. Soon she had a fist stroking my hard-on and a finger teasing my anus. Damn, this girl was good!
I was going to come if Kelli didn’t stop. In fact, I was about to nudge the chick back when I remembered what she’d said about needing to do things her way. I stopped, and my patience was rewarded. A minute later her tongue traced a trail up my shaft, stopping only to dip into my piss slit. My eyes opened again to the sight of Kelli gazing up at me as she let long strands of spittle drizzle all over my cock. Fuck!
Slowly, slowly the gorgeous blonde sucked my crown between her lips and then the shaft, inch by inch. Every few seconds she stopped, her cheeks hollowed with suction, her hands nimbly squeezing my teabags. Oh, I’d experienced good blowjobs before, but nothing like this. Everything Kelli did seemed calculated, to keep me on the edge. As soon as my rod was totally engulfed, a wiggling finger went to work on my butt again while her mouth worked its magic.
It seemed to take forever, an eternity of bliss, for her BJ to build enough speed to match the rhythm of her ass-frigging. As soon as they were in sync, she jammed a finger in deep, tickling my prostate till I experienced the climax of a lifetime!
Incredibly attentive, Kelli licked my equipment squeaky-clean before standing up and asking, “So how was that?”
I thought about what she’d said earlier about doing the same thing over and over, her way, till she got it perfect, and I struggled to keep my voice steady as I answered, “It was…okay.”
With the same angelic smile I’d seen at the bar, Kelli immediately dropped to her knees and began kissing her way from my ankles to my ball sac.
—T.F.
Algoma Mills, ON
"Get back!" I slashed the air in a wide arc, driving the rest of the demigods away from Annabeth. "No one touches her!" "Interesting," Kronos said.
He towered above me on his skeletal horse, his scythe in his hand. He studied the scene with narrowed eyes, as if he could sense that I'd just come close to death, the way a wolf can smell fear.
"Bravely fought, Percy," he said. "But it's time to surrender -- or the girl dies."
"Percy, don't," Annabeth groaned. Her shirt was soaked with blood. I had to get her out of here.
"Blackjack!" I yelled.
As fast as light, the pegasus swooped down and clamped his teeth on the straps of Annabeth's armor. They soared away over the river before the enemy could even react.
Kronos sighed. "Some day soon, I am going to make pegasus soup. But in the meantime . . ." He dismounted, his scythe glistening in the dawn light. "I'll settle for another dead demigod."
I met his first strike with Riptide. The impact shook the entire bridge, but I held my ground. Kronos's smile wavered.
With a yell, I kicked his legs out from under him. His scythe skittered across the pavement. I stabbed downward, but he rolled aside and regained his footing. His scythe flew back to his hands.
"So . . ." He studied me, looking mildly annoyed. "You had the courage to visit the Styx. I had to pressure Luke in many ways to convince him. If only you had supplied my host body instead . . . but no matter. I am still more powerful. I am a TITAN."
He struck the bridge with the butt of his scythe, and a wave of pure force blasted me backwards. Cars went careening. Demigods – even Luke's own men – were blown off the edge of the bridge. Suspension cords whipped around and I skidded halfway back to Manhattan.
http://stream1.gifsoup.com/view1/112...ca-hamby-o.gifQuote:
Originally Posted by rubycalaber
if someone(like me maybe) wrote a pornorgraphic percy jackson novel would u read it ramen
Oh myy6yy
i'd do percy jackson...Quote:
Originally Posted by Autistic Spectrum