AN ORDINARY WET XMASS DREAM! – better late than ever.

  This slovenly schmoozer with little schnauzer
   of a seminal; slithering smallish sneaking sexual sneezer 
   doth spring Aesop purr eye Asia snooker ring 
   snoop doggy dog wolf er snapper sleeps har biding ma time

   cuz, ha aint give a hooter nor rats ass
forsooth, the hell bells sans salvation army volunteers 
   will rattle their tinkling kettle drums
   flush with balls o fiery brass
which aye reckon eyes, tis a boot three months from now
   I haint nuttin boot a proud prick
   many might consider me scrooge incarnate and crass
dis jolly saint nick with glee 
   as flash dancing mob that doth squabble 
   like angry birds twittering feigning moo cho grass

see us, stalking def leppards while off in the woods 
   little red riding hood doth blissfully, dreamily, and friskily – 
   amble, cheese an innocent oblivious prepubescent jail bait 
unaware, she will be tricked and hood winked from wolfish lusty wand 
   and become ransacked, quite frightful for a story book lass
while within the town foursquare, a crowdsource coalesces 
   when veteran black Friday shoppers push and shove vin  
   evoking one huge phallic sized mass
rivaling Alaska Bull Worm, which humans 
   resemble loch ness creature 
   obscure, within the black lagoon morass 
coiling, frothing, and insidiously writhing – 
   while analogous sinister effort hatched faux hidden joystick 
   to shift inside gummy topface virgin cum pass
as madcap buyers blithely ignore politesse 
   and simultaneous occurring rapacious seduction 
   in an effort to be first thru the latched glass

doors – trampling underfoot pokey folks – in sync with popped cherry
   spewing merry ***ing Christmas expletives cause zing sass!
Oh Christmas tree...oh Christmas tree...

How about some soup per whoop pea!?

sans --- >>>

EXOTIC FUN WITH THIS SANTA ™

After struggling like Houdini in a strait jacket, I finally got this dang red suit off my sweaty body.

Nobody knew utter exhaustion to flit to and fro hither and yon trotting across the globe and nearly burning my bum while chancing this outsize girth of mine down the chimney flue.

The elves clamor to go on strike and demand fair trade representation while the slew of reindeer protest against animal cruelty forced to defy gravity and risk slipping off icy roofs.

Do not even ask about the missus.

Ya know why?

Clause i haint gonna yak how she rattles me chains like an unstoppable steam pot.

She fumes and fusses without any letup.

So what if this pedophile hash tagged Santa wants to sin and warm up my chestnuts against some trembling girl to perform more than a lap dance.

Prove to this avuncular grandfather type myth ta sanity claws (who feigns to chuckle with mirth merely for publicity), that he commits egregious horror jacking learning nymph qua, how a kit can please mum peppy pooch!

     Soon, that happy go lucky chica en route to visit poor ole gram ma, a series of exceedingly unfortunate events (on behalf of precious prepubescent) found us shuttered behind dead bolt locked grand ma’s faux bedroom door.

     A forced introductory embrace allowed me to forcibly hold her close, and breathe in youthful balmy fragrance. At some arbitrary time, we made accidental eye contact, which found my toothless slightly opened mouth at this inapt pupil to prod any moral reluctance to blend force fully into a fusion of one oral cavity.

     Teeth (viz mine dentures prestidigitatiously, readily and surreptitiously jammed upon me gums) accidentally clacked and clicked (like the tappet brothers hammering out a piston) against unfamiliar dentifrice while tongues created poisoned spur of the moment cat and mouse deadly chase game.

     An excess of saliva (in tandem with her spit) spilt back and forth necessitating an intermittent breakaway.      
     In the interim our naked bodies (controlled via yours truly) strategically perched atop a Rockaway Mattress gentle man handled to be strong-armed in soundcloud sixty- nine.

     Upon one of these occasions, I took liberty (with a just in time suppressed scream obviously audibly indicating objection) to kiss brow, cheek and nape of neck. 
     Unique female aroma wafted nostrils.

     A spontaneous urge to nibble (and taste salty flesh) found tongue doing some data mining around lily white upper arms and setting sights toward engorged and rumored nubs hinting of womanly roseate ripe breasts.

     The surface of my hand seemed colder and rougher against silky smooth base of rubber baby buggy bumper bosom.

     Lips gravitated toward smallish swollen mammary glands. An infantile pang inducted suckling like a babe.

     Akin to a newborn, I applied a gentle suction upon nipple and also described circular motions atop supposedly sensitive teat. Despite evident revulsion (which totally tubularly turned on the spigot of mine testosterone) optimism existed to draw out milky white substance.

     Even though endeavor made in vain, I tried to cause arousal and listen for vocalization of pleasure.

     Meanwhile (fraught against fierce fight a preteen could muster), my unoccupied hands caressed and rubbed upper thighs getting closer to that sacred triangular hot spot. 

     While continuing to stroke (as only a pedophile could) the pubic area with one hand, I gently spread her legs with the other.

     Akin to some gravitational pull, my head descended upon fecund, mossy warm glade.

     At first blush, I tried to get the lay of the little tufted landscape. 

     Ears get put on high (red) alert and cocked to listen for audible reaction.      

     If lucky with a certain oral stroke, I made a concerted effort to zero in on that particular erogenous zone.

     Visions of skinny spread legs adrip with milky colored droplets clung to nascent fibers of each and every darkly hued pubic hair (akin to beads of ice strung limbs of a tree - where the prismatic splay of light cast a spectrum to form), causes immediate salivation.

     Thine quizzical countenance found itself one lickity split second (no pun intended) away from tasting tangy tendrils from trickling from twat.

     Those monstrous and oversize pulsating labia hovered and clung - like gauzy, grandiose mirage faintly resembled a peculiar looking spacecraft.   
     
     This movable feast appeared as finest culinary cuisine imagined, and invariably fancyfeast found me hypnotized by ineluctable warren buffet - one that sustained a built in source of heat. 

      Upon diminution of violating vestal virgin, a temporary morbid sense of disbelief (and slight horror) set high voltage zapping thru each and every 69th cell bait.
     Creative antics included delicate motions (whereby my hands and tongue stretched out) giving substance to what seemed an outstretched hologram.

     Spindles of coiled coiffed pubic pompadour sashayed across my stunned face. A natural reflex found these two hands of mine reaching around her firm adolescent buttocks edging closer to outer labial limits electrifying and zooming in closer to fellatio gourmet.

     Tongue quickly blended with pinkish, puckered and slightly acidic arabesques of cunt tissue. I licked and slipped sharpest blade of tongue across undulations on outer labia.

     Every ribbed segment of protruding clitoris scrutinized and taste tested.
     
     Squeals of suppressed primal pleasure vibrated successive taste buds (like some barely discernable temblor), and triggered sluices to open up to release damned female potion. A current of freshly brewed cum cascaded upon my outstretched tongue.

     Her pungent, yet tangy sweet tasting balm or ginseng tonic fueled my long dormant non atrophied (whew) libido. 

     Vigorous vim found me quietly slurping excess sticky ooze (oiling the massive vulva), and festively devouring harder to reach points of excitement.

     Tongue swam back into abyss of clitoris caverns in a challenge to lap (akin to an Olympiad) complete length to access excel lent fleshy and squishy diaphragm.

    Said oral appurtenance thrust out and took a jaunt within miniature rills in an attempt to brook sinful delight. An increase in stifled cooing and moaning indicated heading closer to the point of no return. 

     The tip of my tongue probed and touched and luckily tripped geyser.

     My woody like pecker now peeked and peeped and wanted to pick (a dill dough - like some puny popgun panzer) pretty pink panties particularly laden with pheromone willow flavor. 

     This smallish pistol-packing penultimate pal gets perfectly positioned and primed for firing off load.

     Upon discovering where within estuaries utmost excitement dwelt, a pang of pleasure arose, a firmer force came down (and eventually out) to bear.

     Regular lunging and pumping motions with this hardened vein bulging penis (in rapid fire succession) meant to draw up and out, the eruption of our well-deserved comeuppance.

     Trials and errors at last bridged gap (no greater than a single kinky fiber - yet seeming to be an infinite chasm in length), and strung - with one tear shaped droplet upon the tongue that most supreme genital stew.

     A slight shift in position thenceforth allowed, enabled and provided the perfect strategic angle to stretch oral appendage across glisteningly moist clitoris. I obliged this just dessert, and let fingers carefully and gently pull apart the most prominently pink prints esse of labia.

     Mouth smack dab and butted against vaginal features offered the most advantageous opportunity for tongue to apply just adequate pressure upon hidden crannies and nooks.

     An intent made to strike supposed G spot (if applicable and existent), and burst asunder once again hidden orgasmic dam salient seductive wellspring.

     Increased groans and moans indicative that hidden valley (latent with sought after libidinal liquid asset) fast became ready to explode in a concomitant synchronization of intense dew whet accompanied by your geyser like release of cum.

     The seminal fusillade from thine slick soldier sliding into that shebang sluice sent satisfactory sensations consummating an act of intercourse upon the pinnacle of orgiastic climax, no matter ye happen to be a minor for a heart of gold!

Postscript: angel, and father o mercy, pardon verboten fruit of the loin transgression. Noah doubt yule tide me with holly time cheer – wont cha be ya ma frolicking gal?!