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Ep 214: Crappie


“Call me a bitch but I’m just not into that.”

So there we were, sitting on a boat with Richard Dreyfuss, Roy Scheider, and Robert Shaw, drinking whiskey, telling each other tales of near death situations involving large angry sea creatures and old shitty boats, and showing the scars to prove it. The Orca’s old wood creaking and moaning from the swell of the ocean in a rhythmic vibration that matched my own steady heart beat. Thump thump… Thump thump… I’ll have another shot please, and this time, don’t skimp on the booze. That Robert Shaw sure can drink, damn near drank us under the table that night. Until I awoke in a cold sweat, nearly pissing my pants from the liquid consumed the night before. So I got out of bed doing my best not to disturb my sleeping girlfriend laying next to me, her heart also beating, a synchronicity I refuse to overlook. After releasing my waste into the pipes that would take it to the heart of the city, only to be recycled and redistributed as some poor souls drinking water, I noticed it staring at me. Every time I glance in that general direction, it’s staring at me with those bedroom eyes. The fleshlight beckoned me over, and who am I to resist the dark rubbery temptress of the night? My inner loins ached, and I could feel my own flesh starting to throb, my own heart beating faster and faster, my lust growing with the anticipation of what was about to happen. The fleshlight had somehow already lubed itself up, an odd fact that I was willing to worry about at a later date. I entered the fleshlights moist tight hole, and holy fuck did it feel good. That’s when I awoke from the dream, soaking wet with what appeared to be a mixture of urine and semen, my dick somehow in the midst of humping a wadded up section of sheets and blanket, my girlfriend looming over me with eyes that said, “You just pissed and ejaculated on me and the bed we share, and I’m very unhappy because of it.” Thump thump… Thump thump… Thump thump…

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