The Devil and I Had a Jerkoff-athon: Difference between revisions

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The Devil and I Had a Jerkoff-athon (view source)

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{{NSFW}}
 
Well, me, by gum, I’m just a ye olde country boy. Nothing but butterbiscuits and ham pudding at my table, shuck’emup.
 
So’s I’m out a-fishin one entire summer, when if you’d be a pickle in a sassafras patch I ran right into Satan incarnate. The Unholy Rolley. Luciferrigno hisself.
 
And if I hadn’t shat my britches, I’d a-died in thatthere patch of wild wilderness patch!
 
The devil comes up and gives a say: “Thou aren’t the country boy Eldritch, ares’t thine?”
 
My pink butt ears perked right up like a sunflower in a cauliflower salad. “Well by gum I shoooooore is! And who might you beist, red horned foe?”
 
“Well I’m the Fallen Los Angel, the devil.” When he said that last participle, fire the yellow of a cow’s pus pocket shot right outta his ocular holes.
 
My shit-covered panties were scrunching up into my ass cracks, so I bowed mysteriously and sat in silence.
 
“Ok, then,” the Deviled Eggs said. “Now!” And with that, he released his ungodly sized man peen. It was bright red like a Jolly Ranch and veined like a oxroast pie. I looked at in a sordid mix of terrifiedness and eroticismic awe.
 
He started givin’ his rocket pop and hyperquick yank. Like some jet airplane it was a-fast.
 
Suddenly, he go “Blooooooooooorrrrrrrggggg!” all loud and blasphemically, and shoots gallons of sticky, black demon jizz all over me and the surrounding treelines. ‘Twas like an opaque Vaseline hose just unloaded a truck’s worth of petrified wood.
 
I yucked aloud and spat out the foul smelling ball cache. “Garooooooooooossssssss! If’n you ain’t the trickiest lil anti-Jooses out there!” I said, full-on disgusted with life as I then knew it.
 
The Devil just did a big laugh and transmogrified into some sorta Beatle. I think it was Ringo, but I’m more of a Mamas and Papas fan. To add insult to injury, the moptopped Mod Brit sang:
 
All the poop is broooooooooooown
 
And my cum is greeeeeeeeeeeeey
 
Then he disappeared back to Hell, leaving me a sticky, Devil-cummed mess.
 
“Aw butternuts!” I yelled at my penis.
 
Well, me, by gum, I’m just a ye olde country boy. Nothing but butterbiscuits and ham pudding at my table, shuck’emup.
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