This page is not safe for work or school. The content of this story is not suitable for some audiences, and may be inappropriate to view in some situations.
One day, I was walking up the street. I happened to notice an ultra-rare gazillion-dollar coin (Ya know, the one with Nixon on it.) Intrigued, I slowly picked it up. As I carefully bent over, my chin began to protrude out of my ass. It generally got worse from there. Suddenly, a splitting scream entered my right ear. I flipped myself inside out to see what all the commotion was. Lo and behold, a woman was having intense public sexual intercourse. My horniness began to get the better of me, as I walked towards the sound.
Our eyes met. As soon as she saw me, a dog began to dissect his friend for the betterment of monkeykind. Lord, it was a heavenly experience. A banana bunch shot out of her tight-as-shit rectum, and we passionately embraced. As I began to pull her shirt off right in public, suddenly I recognized those tatas. It was Jeff.
I had to think fast. I pressed the button in my liver, and my raging hard boner became a machine gun. I quickly filed the paperwork, and it was all over from there. Jeff essploded into a sixth of his normal size. Somehow I could tell it wasn't over yet, though. My good orangutan friend Jim (he's great at pyrotechnics, held my town's 4th of July last year) handed me a letter. It read "Bunny Man Bridge is a lie. You oughta skedaddle before I tell Celestia. PS: Where's my copy of Conker's Bad Fur Day? I've been looking all over for it. Can you help a bro out? - H.A."
As soon as I read the signature, I realized who it was. Happy Appy. It was long from over.
|Comments • 0|