2008
1:15 a.m.
H er name was Trudy.
She was a regular.
They called her Big Booty Trudy.
And she was a squirter.
A gusher.
A shooter.
A female ejaculator.
Trudy was called the eighth wonder of the world of sex kittens. A bombshell. Not only for her gi-normous, second-to-none backside, that was actually a twenty-pound moon, looking like two midgets were fighting to stay in or get the hell out. It would cause quite a commotion wherever she’d go.
But she was mainly known for her unique ability to cum in liquid form, shooting her fluid up to two feet ahead. Her waterworks talents were spellbinding.
Some men in the club would joke that it was raining whenever they’d see the twenty-seven-year-old’s stream a-flowin. Envious female haters would swear she was really peeing on herself, but either way, Big Booty Trudy had a way of erupting that was a sight for sore eyes. And those who were on the other side of her eruption usually shot their shit within two-point-two seconds just from the sheer amazement of it all.
Trudy laid it on the lucky stud of the evening with an expert wobble-wobble, shake-it shake-it move.
Her satiny chocolate flesh was needy.
She converged upon him, squatting in a reverse cowgirl. His dick peeled her lips apart. She pressed her pussy to its base.
Her back was branded with a cursive BBT. Her cheeks were flushed. Major spillage hung over each side of him.
Her roundness and girth pressed along his thighs. She did a solid bounce move, riding him like a pogo stick. It sounded like someone was getting their ass smacked with a wooden paddle. She gave new meaning to the term
more bounce to the ounce.
He didn’t get fucked.
He got bucked.
Her long weave was Shirley Temple curly and it swayed in direct response to her strong grind.
She always smacked on a wad of Bubbilicious watermelon bubble gum. She’d chomp down on it every time she got her fuck on.
Her wet pussy and massive ass ate his dick like she was downright hungry. She could toss a man around inside of her and slide up and down like his dick was a stripper pole. She was legendary.
She bounced upward, making sure to secure his tip entry and abruptly lowered herself to the base of his scrotum, plopping down hard.
She squeezed her inside muscles tight to grip his length, securing it all the way back, almost inserting it into the entrance of her cervix. His dick slid into place.
She bore down, screaming inaudible sounds, and shot four steady streams of colorless fluid outward, gushing straight forward onto the carpet in front of her and onto his legs. Her tight pussy throbbed.
“Uuungh,” he yelled like his tongue was tied up, catching a back-end view of her squirting eruption just as he shot four streams of cum deep inside of his glove, deep inside of her connoisseur vagina. His eyes leaped and his mouth flew open while she still swam in the downshift of her mighty orgasm. It smelled of sweet clover.
Nameless, he gave one more grunt and went rigid. “Damn, woman. What the hell?”
She spoke through her moans. “That’s just me, baby. That’s how I do it. You didn’t know?” She blew a large bubble that popped and then scooped it back in her mouth with her wide tongue. The light green wad was being converged upon just as his dick had been.
His eyes were still large. “That shit is crazy.”
“You struck gold,” she told the stranger. Her thick, soup-cooler lips smacked together.
She then kissed him like he meant something, scooped up her clothes, and stepped out of the private room.
With a still-hard dick, he just sat back in wonder of the sex-shooter extraordinaire, Big Booty Trudy, who was truly the shape of freaky things to cum.
11
“Ex-Girlfriend”
Monday, March 31, 2008
11:39 a.m.
T he next morning after a long night of making sure the Erotic City patrons were on their best behavior, Lavender had already been up and out of his own house and to the gym. He was headed to Milan’s house.
Milan lay in bed.
1:15 a.m.
H er name was Trudy.
She was a regular.
They called her Big Booty Trudy.
And she was a squirter.
A gusher.
A shooter.
A female ejaculator.
Trudy was called the eighth wonder of the world of sex kittens. A bombshell. Not only for her gi-normous, second-to-none backside, that was actually a twenty-pound moon, looking like two midgets were fighting to stay in or get the hell out. It would cause quite a commotion wherever she’d go.
But she was mainly known for her unique ability to cum in liquid form, shooting her fluid up to two feet ahead. Her waterworks talents were spellbinding.
Some men in the club would joke that it was raining whenever they’d see the twenty-seven-year-old’s stream a-flowin. Envious female haters would swear she was really peeing on herself, but either way, Big Booty Trudy had a way of erupting that was a sight for sore eyes. And those who were on the other side of her eruption usually shot their shit within two-point-two seconds just from the sheer amazement of it all.
Trudy laid it on the lucky stud of the evening with an expert wobble-wobble, shake-it shake-it move.
Her satiny chocolate flesh was needy.
She converged upon him, squatting in a reverse cowgirl. His dick peeled her lips apart. She pressed her pussy to its base.
Her back was branded with a cursive BBT. Her cheeks were flushed. Major spillage hung over each side of him.
Her roundness and girth pressed along his thighs. She did a solid bounce move, riding him like a pogo stick. It sounded like someone was getting their ass smacked with a wooden paddle. She gave new meaning to the term
more bounce to the ounce.
He didn’t get fucked.
He got bucked.
Her long weave was Shirley Temple curly and it swayed in direct response to her strong grind.
She always smacked on a wad of Bubbilicious watermelon bubble gum. She’d chomp down on it every time she got her fuck on.
Her wet pussy and massive ass ate his dick like she was downright hungry. She could toss a man around inside of her and slide up and down like his dick was a stripper pole. She was legendary.
She bounced upward, making sure to secure his tip entry and abruptly lowered herself to the base of his scrotum, plopping down hard.
She squeezed her inside muscles tight to grip his length, securing it all the way back, almost inserting it into the entrance of her cervix. His dick slid into place.
She bore down, screaming inaudible sounds, and shot four steady streams of colorless fluid outward, gushing straight forward onto the carpet in front of her and onto his legs. Her tight pussy throbbed.
“Uuungh,” he yelled like his tongue was tied up, catching a back-end view of her squirting eruption just as he shot four streams of cum deep inside of his glove, deep inside of her connoisseur vagina. His eyes leaped and his mouth flew open while she still swam in the downshift of her mighty orgasm. It smelled of sweet clover.
Nameless, he gave one more grunt and went rigid. “Damn, woman. What the hell?”
She spoke through her moans. “That’s just me, baby. That’s how I do it. You didn’t know?” She blew a large bubble that popped and then scooped it back in her mouth with her wide tongue. The light green wad was being converged upon just as his dick had been.
His eyes were still large. “That shit is crazy.”
“You struck gold,” she told the stranger. Her thick, soup-cooler lips smacked together.
She then kissed him like he meant something, scooped up her clothes, and stepped out of the private room.
With a still-hard dick, he just sat back in wonder of the sex-shooter extraordinaire, Big Booty Trudy, who was truly the shape of freaky things to cum.
11
“Ex-Girlfriend”
Monday, March 31, 2008
11:39 a.m.
T he next morning after a long night of making sure the Erotic City patrons were on their best behavior, Lavender had already been up and out of his own house and to the gym. He was headed to Milan’s house.
Milan lay in bed.
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