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Old West CircleJerks. Uniquely sickening
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
A Western Tale
Placed in the public domain by A. Nonymous
The noon sun in Navarone, New Mexico stacked choking heat upon the
already unbearable myriad dust swirls. Grizzled Bart coughed vehemently, as if
he were cussing out the world in fit of wheezing and mucus expusion. Zeek
the bartender stood motionless propped up against the hitching post of his
saloon, smirking contemptouously and squinting hard into oblivion. Our hero,
Pepe, took his breaths carefully from behind his clean bandana that was as
black as the dirt that stung his crimson eyes. Pepe's ten-gallon hat
sheltered his countenance of readiness, but his posture broadcast it sure
enough. It was clear for all to see that Pepe was ready to exact revenge on
Grizzled Bart and his band of criminal motorcycle punks for their kidnap, rape,
and subsequent impregnation of the one-hundred beautiful starlets on the night
of the Denver Follies. Bart was a tough hombre- tough as nails- tougher,
but he was oversexed. And that was his one weekness. Why, ole' Grizzled
Bart's testicles were so sensitive that a single grain of itching power
would send him into a scratching fit wilder than all get out. Now Pepe on
the other hand could jump off the highest ridge in Navarone, land spread
eagle on his saddle horn and not utter so much as a yelp. Yessir, it was
clear that Pepe had the advantage on that scortching July morning.
Two of Zeek's prettiest ladies of the evening unzipped the two men's
dusty flies. Bart's pecker unfurled to a limp seven inches, but Pepe
already had an erection! The townsfolk cheered at Pepe's whopper which
stood a Texas-foot long! Bart scowled into Pepe's calm poker face as the
two men squatted down facing each other. A circle of spectators gathered
that must have been made up of every soul in Navarone. Mayor Smith emerged
from the crowd and solmenly placed the stale Oreo cookie in the dirt street
equidistant from Bart and Pepe. A moment of tense silence ensued... Then,
the crack of Mayor Smith's Winchester rifle echoed across the Western
plains, and the townfolk began to hoot and holler as the contest began.
Immediately Bart began to wank his flaccid penis with his grimy,
blistered hands. Meanwhile, the tan chicano skin of Pepe's proud hard-on
glistened in the New Mexico sun as he calmly uncapped a snuff tin filled
with our heroine, Nell's vaginal secretions. Nell had manually stimulated
herself for a week to gather enough slick drippings for Pepe to rub on his
dick at this important moment. Bart's gang of punks tried frantically to
arouse him with black and white photographic plates of nude fat women, but to
little avail. Pepe was already nearing climax as he steadily pleasured his
well-lubricated penis and rock hard testicles which were as large as a
child's two fists. Behind Bart, right in Pepe's line of sight, the most
voluptuous virgins in Navarone disrobed and manually stimulated their
genitals for Pepe's delight. Behind Pepe, for Bart to see, old men mooned
the outlaw, rubbing animal dung into their mangy pubic hair to
disgust Bart and defortify his erection. It worked! For just as Bart was
able to get it up, Pepe shot his hot, thick, creamy cum all over the Oreo
cookie. One of the jets caught Bart right in the eye, and everyone had a
good belly laugh about that. Pepe removed his black bandana to reveal a
proud smile of victory as he wiped the remaing cum off his still erect
penis.
Well now, Bart was a mean, low-down, no-good, onery polecat, but he knew
when he was beaten and had to pay the price. With a wince of disgust, Bart
lifted the Oreo cookie, with enough sperm oozing on it to put the cream in
five cups of coffee, into his dry mouth and swallowed it down. Everyone
groaned as they watched, and in a rare gesture of sympathy, Zeek handed
Bart a bottle of his strongest red-eye whiskey to help Bart wash the
mouthful of cum down. Justice had prevailed.
After that, ole Grizzled Bart decided never to break the law again and
got a job washing the sheets for Zeek's saloon and minute-rate motel. Pepe
and Nell were married, and you can still hear Nell's cries of orgasmic delight
echo through the valleys and gulches each Friday night as Pepe treats her
to the rapture of deep penetration. As for the one-hundred kidnapped, raped,
and subsequently impregnated starlets, well, the babies that ole Doc Whitaker
didn't take care of with a coat hanger were all born in perfect health. And
all of them were named after Pepe. Through the years, the multi-racial
starlets disbanded and joined other entertainment companies all over the
world, and that's why there are so many non-chicano folks named Pepe.
THE END
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