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CSR
Date: 8/29/2015, Categories: Flash Erotica, Author: adagio_sabadicus, Rating: 7, Source: LushStories
In the latest escapade of The Cum Slinger, a character of only my mind. A character that often leaves Cum Shot Residue, (CSR) at the edge of the divide. My shadow and flesh can usually be seen behind the mesh in my bookshop, conniving with Rowanberry ink. Often as not, imbibing a nog of rum. I am not often given to exaggerations, but it was a slow day. I cover expenses by scribbling out prose and for wankers to behold. My monthlies (overheads) were past due and some heathen had torn a cover off a priceless journal. A journal among shelves of tomes in my rustic bookshop. It was year 1866, and my darling wife had taken leave to visit relatives in nearby Savannah Town. Its a good thing for me, that she was, as I felt a touch of breath about my nape. It was like a passing twitch, but I eyed the dying lit of the candle and gasp at a shadow upon shelves of my tomes. Between Shakespeare's Othello and Dante's Inferno. The temperature rose as a mist encircled my shivering flesh as I reached for a nog of rum and caved in. I knew from my past writings, the creation of the Queen Of Swallow, a figurine that sat on my writing desk. Based on my last vagabond shavings of the pencil. I was about to uncork my cock and release the swoo' of my churning testicles. She often paid homage to my gifted one-eyed penis I quickly lifted the quill and etched: "She had just recently join the faculty at the communal whores club and tutored in fellatio. A skill, The Cum Slinger slackened in, he a quick learner laid down a fiver and twenty. Puckering his lips, kissing the elbow of her clit. Diving into the 'Devil's Eye'. Her clit like a maw, grasping his tongue. It was as if his tongue swam with bitches on a daily occurrence." I took a reprieve and tossed back swill, as if a life preserver. My will to continue lay in the CSR in the palm of my hand, as the sun dusk.
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