Woody Allen once said that sex was the most fun he'd ever had without laughing. But laughing and sex are not mutually exclusive. Horniness brings on undignified behaviour, and it is all the more fun if we are in on the joke. This blog is a celebration of the funny side of sex and the sexy side of humour. As an author of erotic stories I like to show that sex is more fun when it is playful and silly.

Friday, June 19, 2015

Getting to the Bottom of It All


If there is a cause worth standing for it is that of liberating the bottom. It has been sat upon for too long. Is it any wonder that the word "bum" is used to describe both the gluteus maximus and also those who have fallen to the lowest level of our society.

There are those who would try to excuse the lowly position of the bottom on biological determinism. After all, they will tell you, the bottom inherited the shitty end of  the digestive tract. One could only wish that the minds of such individuals were as broad as their backsides.

Bottoms are wearied neither by oppression nor derision. No matter how much abuse they may be subjected to, they cannot help but remain their cheeky selves.

The spanking of bottoms has long been a traditional punishment, which is somewhat peculiar when it is considered that it is rarely the bottom that has committed the offence. The brain is most often the source of evil doings, but the other end of the anatomy become the scapegoat.

Soft and warm and joyously wobbly, like love itself, the bottom will have its day. As it has borne, so shall it be bared. As the tides of the ocean are subject to the power of the moon, so shall the tides of social change by pushed by another kind of moon. If someone would oppress you, bare to them your nether cheeks.

Book Review

Jake is a divorced IT worker who is in a bit of a rut. His daughter gives him the gift of a holiday at The Bare Bottom Resort. Only when he arrives there does he realise that it is a sex resort where guests are expected to be nude except around the hotel itself or when on excursions off of the hotel grounds. He is a little taken aback, but it is not long before he starts to enjoy himself and fall for one of the female guests.

This is a sweet and sexy little novella which follows the conventions of the romance genre. Will a misunderstanding mean that Jake and his newfound love are forever parted? Of course not. But the sex is very erotic, the setting is an appealing one to imagine spending time in, and the heroine is a winning mixture of coyness and passion.

The only problem I had with this ebook was the fact that Naughty Nights Press include so many samples of their other stories at the back. I assumed that the whole of the ebook would be taken up with Diane Turner's story and thus was disappointed when the story started wrapping up at what I was expecting to be the halfway point. This wouldn't have been a problem if I'd known how short the story was, for instance if there had been a Contents page indicating on which page the samples would begin, but as it is it left me thinking : "Is that all?" Having said that, one of the samples was pretty good and I may seek out that ebook. The rest didn't do much for me.

Scribbler's Muse

Enid's bottom deserves to be showered with praise. You can see much more of here at Girls Out West.

Tinto Brass

Tinto Brass is the auteur of the derriere. While his most famous movie is Caligula (1979), the films which truly express his unique personality are his lower-budgeted erotic films, in which he fetishises women's bottoms to the same degree that Russ Meyer celebrated bosoms.

He is famous for saying that, while women often lie, their bottoms always tell the truth.

Frivolous Lola (1998) (aka Monella)

The gorgeous Anna Ammirati stars in this romp set in the countryside of 1950's Italy. Young baker Masetto (Max Parodi) is having trouble persuading his flirtatious fiancé that they should wait until marriage to have sex. If he won't give her what she wants, she just may find it elsewhere. Maybe even with her mother's debauched lover André (Patrick Mower), if only she could be sure he isn't her real father.

This film is full of life and colour. Whether bicycling madly, skirt flying and panties flashing at passing priests, causing Masetto to burn his loaves, or jiving with soldiers to juke box records, Lola is the very personification of joy de vivre. And much comedy comes from watching everyone else have to deal with the anarchy she spreads. But watch out for the theme song. You'll never get it out of your head.
Anna Ammirati

Looks like Cupid has scored a direct hit on one of actress, pinup model and singer Jolee Blon's most attractive features. Check out her website for more.

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

The Prurient Pickles of Penelope : Episode Three

Episode Three

Tramp on a Trampoline

What should Penelope do first? Rod Stroker was so far completely ignorant of the fact that he was living next door to a sexy woman who wanted to pander to his every forbidden desire, not to mention several he wouldn't even have until she suggested them.

She had to attract his attention.

Perhaps if he looked over the fence and saw her sunbathing in her back yard.

She looked at her fleshy naked body in the mirror and gave it a wiggle. If only she could sunbathe nude. It was so unfair that that wasn't allowed in suburbia. Hell, she wished she could just walk around the neighbourhood nude on a warm day. Being an exhibitionist it would make her feel so yummy. It would make her pussy really wet. And lots of guys would get stiff cocks which they could have so much fun playing with when they got home. If Penelope ruled the world it would be a happier place.

But she didn't, so she had to settle on a bikini. She dug one out of her bottom drawer which she hadn't worn in ten years. Black and white zebra stripes. She'd put on a few kilos since then, but she thought she could squeeze into it.

Sure enough she made it, though she had to tug hard. It didn't cover much. It pushed her big boobs up into a soft deep valley of cleavage. Her belly and hips bulged over the tight string that held the brief bottoms in place. And when she turned around, she could see that a couple of centimetres of butt-crack showed in the back. It looked obscene. Gloriously obscene. So obscene that she could just imagine Rod Stroker's hard cock bursting through a knothole in the fence at the sight of her.

She picked up her mobile phone and quickly took a couple of snaps of herself and sent them to Ahmed. She hoped he would share them with all his friends. She loved the idea of being the lust-object of licentious Libyans.

Next she picked up her portable speakers and her I-Pod and a tube of sunscreen, then she skipped out into her back yard. She set up her speakers and I-Pod, but didn't turn them on. There was plenty of time for that. Penelope had a trampoline in her backyard. It had been there when she moved in. Now she climbed up onto it and started covering herself with sunscreen.

The sun was soothing on her body and she soon fell asleep.

"...up to here with that fucking show," a man's voice came from across the fence. "I want a co-star that doesn't pee on me... Breath? Well, yes, he has better breath than Samantha. Eucalyptus. He eats nothing but gum leaves after all. But I had to kiss Samantha. I don't have to kiss Claude the koala... Mouth to mouth? You're fucking kidding me! Next episode? That's the final straw!"

It was Rod Stroker! Penelope went into action. She turned her I-Pod to "The Bad Touch" by Bloodhound Gang. Then she jumped up onto the trampoline and began bouncing and gyrating while singing along to the lyrics :

"You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel."

"Do you mind turning down that unholy racket?1?" Stroker cried, poking his head over the fence, his eyes shooting fire from above his sandy well-trimmed beard.

"Sorry, sir!" she apologised and turned off the music. "I'm such a big..." But his face was gone.

"Sorry about that," she heard him talking on the phone once more. "Some deranged bimbo next door..." His voice faded away as he went back into the house.

"Rod Stroker called me a 'bimbo'," Penelope sighed as she came in her bikini bottoms.

Where will Penelope's infatuation take her now? Find out next time!

Friday, April 18, 2014

The Prurient Pickles of Penelope : Episode Two

The idea for this serial was to come up with something I could write easily and quickly so that I could keep it going regularly. It's taken me more than a year to get to a second episode. Oh, well.

Episode Two

Hornier Consciousness

If Penelope was going to take full advantage of having her television idol Rod Stroker as a next door neighbour she was going to have to have a focussed mind.

She took her fluffy towel into her bedroom and placed it on the floor. As she sat down she loved the soft feeling of it against her bare bottom and the gentle caress of the warm breeze through her bedroom window as it caressed her widely spread wet pussy.

For several years now, she had been a student of a mystical practise called Horniyana Meditation. The aim was to connect with the universal erotic vibration of the universe.

First she picked up a moderate sized pink vibrator. Turning it on high she inserted it into her vagina. She was so wet that normally it would have popped right out again. To prevent this from happening, and in order to properly align her chakras, she crossed her legs into the lotus position, pressing the heal of one bare foot over the bottom of her buzzing toy.

She cleared her mind and let the light of creation illuminate her consciousness, as the waves of divine pleasure radiated out from her yoni to all parts of her physical being.

At first she would experience a series of orgasms, but as she learned to sit with her pleasure the cycle would become a constant. Orgasm was no longer a thing which happened. It was a place to be.

In this state the worldly boundaries, inhibitions and attachments would melt away. Sexual preferences were first perceived as limitations and then transcended. Penelope came to perceive that everyone was a point on the erotic matrix, and so the inherent sexiness of all her fellow humans was revealed to her as something irrespective of gender, physical appearance or age.

Through this spiritual practice, she became the earthly embodiment of the eternal sacred slut. She longed to bring enlightenment to all. She was not a woman of words or languages, but she knew that her tongue could speak the universal language of sexual pleasure. The problems of the world could be licked by licking. And there would be less men in the world who would act like pricks if she anointed their pricks with the love liquor leaking from between her labia.

Returning to this earthly realm she stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. It wasn't narcissism that made her gaze longingly at her bountiful breasts with their pert pink nipples, the soft curve of her pale belly, the neatly trimmed auburn curls which adorned the area above her large pink and puffy labia ("all the better to be sucked into your mouth and played with with your tongue" she would have told any prospective lover), or that made her wink at herself and smile in a cheeky way that wrinkled up her freckled nose. She was a part of the erotic matrix too, and this is what she was appreciating as she thought about how she would totally fuck herself if she had a cock. Even without one she would lick that lovely pussy of hers. But she wasn't a contortionist, so her self-love would have to be satisfied with masturbation.

The sad truth, of course, was that Penelope was ahead of the curve on this whole universal erotic consciousness stuff. She was a pleasantly plump thirty-year-old, more plain than pretty. Her main attractions were her warm heart and her curves. But few would give her a second look if they saw her walking down the street in jeans and t-shirt.

In her own mind though she was doing a slow striptease for an audience of 300 naked men. They were all stroking their stiff cocks. How could they not? And as she lay naked, legs spread wide, quivering in a self-induced orgasm, they took turns to shower her in the seminal tribute of their lust. And she giggled to herself as she thought what a good thing it was that the world was full of cum sluts like herself who would now come to lick her body clean with their tender pink tongues.

There was a whole world in need of succour and enlightenment. But the need was not equal. There were some who lived troubled stressful lives in the public eye with nothing to comfort them but empty materialism. People, for instance, who worked in the television industry, having to churn out episode after episode of a koala-themed family adventure series when deep down they longed to play Hamlet. Charity begins at home. Or if not at home then, at the very least, next door.

How will Penelope try to lure her lust-object Rod Stoker into an act of karmic copulation? Find out next time!

Sunday, February 3, 2013

The Prurient Pickles of Penelope - Episode One

I've decided to have a go at a flash fiction serial. Let me know what you think.

Episode One

Greeced Lightning

Penelope loved all kinds of porno movies, but gay porno movies were her favourites. There was a simple reason for this. They had more hunky guys in them. More hunky guys with big stiff pricks. In Penelope's mind the only reason they were fucking each other is because she wasn't there to be gang-banged by them.

On this balmy summer evening she lay back naked on her fake leather couch, some fluffy bath towels under her to soak up her sweat. And the sweat was dripping freely down her plump thirty-year-old body as she lazily stroked her sensitive clit. She'd lost count of how many times she had cum already. The DVD she was watching was erotic and educational. The Anals of History.

After a segment on prehistory – Erect Homos – the story jumped to ancient Egypt – Queens of the Nile. Now it was time for ancient Greece. The title came up : The Gloryhole That Was Greece.

"Ooooh, the Olympic Games!" enthused Penelope lubing up a massive dildo.

She wondered briefly whether the producers of the film really paid for the rights to use Vangelis' theme from Chariots of Fire, but it did fit perfectly with the sight of naked men running in slow motion with their erect cocks bouncing around before them.

After the 200 metres sprint came the relay race.

"But they don't have any batons. How can you have a relay race without batons?" Penelope wondered. The first runners sped down the track, all sweaty and stiff. In front of them their teammates crouched on their starting blocks ready for a fast take off.

"Oh!" Penelope exclaimed. "So that's how it works." She imagined herself all greased and naked and bent over on the race track all ready to receive a flesh baton. Then she slid her fat slippery dildo deep into her butthole. It felt so good. On a sudden impulse she grabbed her mobile phone and photographed herself. Then she threw down the phone, looked back to the television screen and rubbed her twat until she twitched all over. She always came harder if she knew her 18-year old internet boyfriend Ahmed would see the evidence and stroke his dusky dick.

She was exhausted. She'd have to watch the rest of the DVD another time.

When she turned it off a gossip show came up on the television. The screen filled with the face of her favourite television star – Rod Stroker, star of The Koala Whisperer. Her tired clit gave one more little twitch.

"Tired of the empty glitter of living in a penthouse on the Gold Coast, Rod has decided to give up the trappings of his success and move into a small unpretentious home in suburban Adelaide," the host of the show explained. A moving van pulled up to an ordinary looking house. A house which looked strangely familiar to Penelope.

"Oh, my God," she cried. "Rod Stroker's my new next door neighbour!"

Monday, January 21, 2013

The Erotic Office : Episode Two

By popular demand... well, demand from one person anyway... here is the second episode of this serial I started on my old Yahoo erotic story group. Since this is as far as I got with it, the chance of me posting any more is quite small. It would take major pressure... like two people asking me to.

The Erotic Office : Episode Two

Leah from Girls Out West
When  I opened my eyes they were looking straight into hers. It was Nicole.

There was no way I could stop. Waves of delirious pleasure coursed through me as I shot stream after stream of cum all over the front of Nicole's blouse and mini-skirt, and onto her long bare legs.

"You naughty boy! Look what a mess you've made!" she exclaimed.

As I cleaned myself up, I heard her run back into the main office.

"David was masturbating in the toilet and shot his stuff all over me!" she told all of the other women in the office. "Look what a mess he made of me!"

"You had better rinse that out right away," came a knowledgeable voice from across the room. "Cum stains."

When I came out of the cubicle, Nicole was standing at one of the basins wearing only her bra and panties. Her panties were so brief that they revealed a full inch of cleavage in the back as she bent down and sponged away at her clothes.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to."

"That's O.K., Honey," she said. "I should have knocked."

"I thought this was the men's," I explained.

"Well, there weren't any men until today," she said. "And it's closer than the other one."

"Which explains the pictures on the walls," I responded.

"Exactly. You're not the first one to play with yourself in there you know," she winked. "Oh, dear. It looks like I'll have to work like this for the rest of the day," she added, hanging her clothes over the radiator to dry.

"I don't mind," I smiled.

"I bet you don't," she replied.

Leah from Girls Out West
My face was burning when I came back out into the main office. All of the women were laughing at me. 
Deb, the food and wine columnist, was making a crude wanking gesture. "Maybe you'd like a little help next time. I'm sure I'm a better aim than you are. Or were you planning on hitting poor little Nicole?"

I slunk away to my desk and tried to look inconspicuous.

From then on the women in the office felt they could take liberties with my person. As I went about doing my work, which required consulting with each about her work, I was groped, stroked and pinched.

But that was O.K. They could hardly complain if I did likewise. And so, by the end of the afternoon, there would not be a soft plump breast or rounded firm bottom in the room that I hadn't squeezed or stroked or patted to my heart's content.

Though my heart may have been content, however, my cock was not. I made no attempt to hide its state of stiffness, and, indeed, several of the ladies could not resist squeezing the front of my pants to test it's firmness.

The main visual treat of the afternoon, of course, was watching Nicole flit about the office in her skimpy little bra and panties. I was tempted to accidentally spill coffee on them to see if I could get her nude, but I decided that that was sport for another day.

Sometime in the middle of the afternoon she had a long giggling conversation on the phone after which she knocked on Cheryl's door and informed her that "Wolfie" would be coming in tomorrow afternoon to talk about an idea he had for a story in which he would "go undercover" in a nudist colony.

"I don't know how you can go 'undercover' in a nudist colony," Nicole finished, "I thought the whole idea was to go 'uncovered'."

"Never mind, I'm sure 'Wolfie' will explain everything," Cheryl assured her. "By the way, why are you undressed?"

"David wanked all over my clothes," she explained.

"Did he indeed?" Cheryl asked rhetorically. "You'd better send him in."

"Cheryl wants to see you David," she told me as she came back out.

"What's this I hear about you wanking all over Nicole's clothes?" Cheryl asked as I entered her office and closed the door behind me.

Savannah from Girls Out West
"It was an accident," I replied, nervously.

"You were just accidentally masturbating?" she asked.

"Well, no. I was doing that on purpose."


"Well, to tell you the truth it was you."


"You got me so turned on I just had to get some relief," I explained.

"Well, flattering as that may be," she replied, "I don't take kindly to anything which disrupts work in the office. You'll need to be punished. Come over here and drop your pants."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. Come over here and drop them."

I approached her desk, undid my belt and unzipped my pants and let them drop to the floor.

"Don't tell me I've got you all excited again?" she asked when she saw how my stiff cock jutted out within my underpants.

"I'm sorry," I replied. "It has a mind of it's own."

"Here, wank off into this," she ordered, throwing me a lacy handkerchief which she pulled out of her pocket. "I don't want you making a mess of my desk when I spank you."

My mind swam at the strangeness of it all, but I did as I was told. I pulled down my underpants, grasped my cock and began wanking while Cheryl looked on intently. She was standing up behind her desk now and I looked deep into her green eyes as I stroked my stiffness. As I masturbated I imagined grabbing her and ripping off her dress. I saw myself taking her across the desk, sliding my cock in and out of her dripping wet pussy as she screamed for more. Finally, I moaned and filled the silk hankie with my seed.

"You look like you enjoyed that," Cheryl commented, handing me a half dozen tissues to clean myself up with.

"Thank you," I replied. "I did."

"I'll tell you a little secret," she said, conspiratorially. "So did I. But now discipline must be served. Bend over the desk."

Leaving my now wilted cock nestled within a pile of tissues, I bent down over the desk.

Cheryl stroked my bottom tenderly one time and then began giving it a series of hard spanks. I was surprised by her strength, and soon I was smarting from the pain.

"There. Let that be a lesson to you," she said.

I readjusted by clothing and went back out into the main office where the women were laughing at me once again. Oh, well.

I had to consult with Alexandra, who was the lay-out designer for the magazine, so I pulled a chair up next to hers and asked to look at what she had been working on.

Cleo from Girls Out West
Alexandra was a strikingly attractive woman with long black hair piled up in a bun on the top of her head. She wore very fashionable looking red glasses, the frames of which matched the cherry colour of her lipstick.

As she showed me the layout for the new issue, I gently caressed the back of her neck. Then she turned towards me to explain a particular detail, and I found myself looking deep into her bright blue eyes and not hearing a word she was saying. I imagined those soft tender red lips kissing their way down my chest.

Finally, I felt myself drawn by some kind of sexual magnetism to press my lips to hers. She responded passionately, opening her mouth and locking tongues with me. I was lost in another world, until the sound of cheers and applause from the other women brought me back to reality.

"I just had to do that," I told her. "I couldn't concentrate on work until I got that out of my system."

"Oh, I wouldn't want anything to get in the way of your ability to concentrate," she replied, breathily.

Eventually, I had to move on to dealing with some other matters, and returned to my own desk. A number of the women had, at various times, to come and consult me on something, and this would also entail a little mutual fondling, and, just to make sure I could concentrate on what they were saying, each would give me a passionate kiss before going on to consult with me.

I was on my way back from making myself a cup of tea when Alexandra stopped me.

"I've dropped my pen under my desk," she explained, "and I can't seem to find it. Do you think you could have a look for it?"

"Of course," I replied helpfully, and crawled under her desk.

As soon as I was there I realised that she had pulled her full skirt up around her waist. She wasn't wearing any panties, and she was playing with herself. Her fingers were twiddling with her stiff clit amidst a forest of jet-black pubes.

With a sigh I buried my face between her warm soft thighs. I pressed my lips against her wet pussy, and lapped at it with my tongue. My lips kissed her pussy and her still playing fingers.

I stayed under Alexandra's desk for half-an-hour, the two of us engaged in a cosy conspiracy centred on her orgasmic pleasure.

Finally, however, she came, wetting my face with her juices, and I crawled out from under her desk, staggering a little until the blood came back into my legs.

All of a sudden, it seemed, it was 5. 30 and time to go home. But the women explained that they wanted to have a little party to welcome me to the office, so computers were turned off and alcohol was brought out.

Victor and Annabel from Girls Out West
Cheryl came out of her office, too, and joined in the fun. And soon we were all a bit tipsy.
"You've been a very naughty boy, today," Deb pointed out, taking a swig of red wine straight from the bottle. "I think you should make up for it by taking off all of your clothes."

"Yes," agreed Cheryl. "What's a party without a nude man to serve us our drinks and nibblies."

I didn't need any further prompting. The ladies all helped me to get out of my clothes, and from then on I wandered amongst them with a glass in one hand and a bottle in the other, and my stiff cock wagging in front of me.

"It's initiation time!" cried Alexandra, who'd let her hair down now, so that it fell down around her shoulders.

"Yes, initiation time," they all agreed, including Nicole, who had her hand down her panties and was happily playing with herself....

Rosie from Girls Out West
To be continued (when Hell freezes over)...

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Guest Review : Dirty Zero by Kyle Adams

Today we present a guest review from Naoko Smith.

Naoko is the author of As Pleases My General - a raunchy kitchen table fable and A Werewolf in Office Clothing (both of which are available as free downloads from Smashwords) as well as the novel A Match for the el Maiens. She is also the woman behind the Feminist Erotica and Erotica Writer's Bloc blogs.

Dirty Zero by Kyle Adams

Hilarious and hot, here's one about a shy boy and comic-book heroes.

On the outside Wyatt is shy and geeky
Inside Wyatt’s a bit freaky and likes it kinky.
Brian’s nice, charming, and hot as hell
That stud makes Wyatt’s dick Swell
An invite to a costume party Wyatt can’t refuse
Was there actually a party or is it just a ruse
Wyatt gets a shock when he isn’t allowed to leave
The night is full of surprises that he can’t believe

I love the writing style in this first book about Wyatt and Brian, Moltenman and Darkfist, Dirty Zero. The seriously sexy passages are occasionally shafted by hilariously über-real reflections such as who is lying in the wet spot. Brian is perhaps a tad too gorgeous and bold for realism but other characters including incidental women are believable people.

This is a laugh out loud funny story as well as a steamy set of sex scenes. Because of the layout of Smashwords profiles, I didn't realise at first that the short description is a poem - what a typically funny touch from someone with a great writing talent and a sense of humour as well.

For more funny gay erotica check out Kyle's Smashword page. All of his ebooks are currently free.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

The Whore's Locker

"They are back," Abu informed his commander gravely.

"Allah preserve us," groaned the new head of Al Qaeda, feeling the sweat break out on his forehead.


Hassan stood in the crowded market place. His hands shook and his heart pounded in his chest. This was his moment. This was his last moment. His backpack was stuffed with C-4. In ten minutes he would be in the Promised Land and fifty or more people who were currently going about their business in blissful ignorance would be dead.


Patty and Siobhan emerged from the shadows. They were disguised in traditional arab dress. They surveyed the scene from beneath their transparent veils.

"Here we go again," said Siobhan with a wicked smile that nobody could see.

The girls threw off their robes and walked forward into the busy market place. All around them faces turned and eyes shot wide. Patty was the language expert. She understood every prayer and profanity which dropped unbidden from the lips of the men and women on all sides.

Patty and Siobhan were members of the Pink Berets, also know as the Slut Squad. They were mercenaries. Currently they were working for the United States government, but they would sell their services to anyone who met their asking price. They were above politics and patriotism. All they cared about was the money and the cock. Patty was born in America. Siobhan in Ireland. But the Pink Berets base of operations was on a privately owned island in the Azores.

What caused all the commotion in the market place, as it did everywhere they went, was their uniform. It consisted simply of a military-style helmet with camouflage pattern and a tight-fitting black t-shirt with the message : "What part of 'Yes' don't you understand?" Siobhan also had a satchel over her shoulder filled with bomb disposal equipment. Below the t-shirt they were both naked, their smoothly-shaved pussies glistening wetly in the bright Middle Eastern sunshine. The sweat dripped down their firm buttocks, which quickly became begrimed with dry red dust.

"I know what they have promised you," Patty called out Arabic.

"I will be a martyr for the glorious Jihad," Hassan replied nervously.

"You can take the gamble if you want, Hassan," she told him. "You can blow yourself to smithereens and trust that you'll end up in Paradise with 20 virgins, who probably don't even know how to suck a cock, or I can blow you right hear and now. I'll take you to Paradise and then you can get on with your day, no harm, no fowl." Of course it sounded quite different in Arabic.

"I can't change my mind," whimpered Hassan. "The bomb is already programmed to go off."

"Don't worry about that," Patty reassured him. "Siobhan will disarm the bomb. She's good at that. And, if all goes well, she'll help us both out by pulling apart your butt cheeks and licking your asshole. She's also good at that."

Siobhan didn't know much Arabic, but she knew enough to shoo back the crowd that was standing around them. The women had fallen back and were looking on anxiously, but many of the men couldn't make up their minds which was worse - to run the risk of being blown up or to miss out on getting a really good look at the bare Infidel cunts which were stiffening their cocks.

Jette and Keilyn from Girls Out West
"Wow! This guy's got a real weapon of mass destruction in his pants," laughed Patty, setting free seven proud inches of dusky dick meat. She happily grasped it in her sweaty hands and licked off the bead of pre-cum that had formed on the head.

"Three and a half minutes left on the timer," declared Siobhan. "Should I have a wank first to steady my nerves."

Patty would have told her she was a cheeky bitch but she had her mouth full of throbbing dick. Just as some women are gourmets who like to eat exotic meals, Patty liked to eat exotic males. She took his cock out of her mouth and crouched down to suck on his balls. She hoped those balls were bursting with cum. Suicide bombers were generally virgins who didn't masturbate anywhere near enough. (A life without sex? Who wouldn't want to blow themselves up?) Every guy's cum tasted a little different, and every guy's cum was delicious to Patty.

"Now was it the blue wire and then the green wire, or the green wire and then the blue?" asked Siobhan. "I get confused when I get horny. And watching you suck cock always makes me horny."

"This isn't a game," Patty scolded her, as she grasped Hassan's hard prick and jacked him with a firm stroke.

"There we go," Siobhan cried proudly as she snipped the correct wire.

"Business over and now the fun begins," Patty replied, laying back in the dust and pulling Hassan between her wide spread thighs. His dick slid easily into her hot wet pussy. Siobhan crouched down behind him and licked his asshole while fingering her dripping wet pussy. The danger always left her feeling rampantly horny. And all around them men were pulling out their cocks and jacking off.

"Hey, you," cried Siobhan to one of the watching masturbators. "I just saved your life. The least you can do is fuck me." He was unlikely to understand her Irish-inflected English, but he understood when she grabbed him by the cock and pulled him into the fray.

Patty and Siobhan kissed each other hungrily as each was fucked doggy style. Eventually they were pumped full of jism.

"It's raining man juice!" exclaimed Siobhan as the surrounding masturbators spurted streams of hot cum all over their sweaty bodies.

As they were walking away, Siobhan handed out business cards to some of the onlookers. They read :

There is no need to love your enemies. We'll do it for you.

"I can't wait to hit the showers," enthused Patty. She knew that the rest of the squad would be meeting them there. They would have a long relaxing shower together and then there would be an all-girl orgy until late into the evening. Pussies would be licked and strap-ons would be squirted over. And everyone would be satisfied by the time the desert sun sank among the dunes.


The leader of Al Qaeda did not take the news well.

"When they used guns and bombs against us, it stiffened our resolve," he pointed out.

"I'm pretty stiff at the moment," Abu confessed.

"Death and destruction are good for recruitment," explained the leader. "But what can we do against blow jobs?"

"My resolve would be tested," admitted Abu.

In the next room one of the leader's wives was watching the report on Al Jazeera and fingering her pussy beneath her burkha.

The End

Jette and Keilyn from Girls Out West