America, I have bills to pay. This should be of no surprise to anyone because I am a) an adult and b) not a spoiled nitwit. Paying bills is going okay, but like most of you I could use a little financial security buffer. What if I were to have an emergency, such as an immediate and pressing need for as many pretzel M&Ms as could fit into a pool? It has come to my attention that the adult industry is extremely lucrative, financially, and requires little to no actual talent. I figure, why not ride this ocean wave until it stops waving and becomes just some loser motionless lake. So if you are over 18, totally feelin' ready to think about boning, and not currently reading this on a public library computer (cause that is just messed up, bro), then read more!
Um, this post may be NSFW. There's no dirty pictures or anything (sorry), but I don't want to be held responsible if your dumb job can't handle swear words, white-hot text-based erotica (or as I like to call it, "white-hot sext-based e-write-ica"), or gross misconceptions of what is sexy on my part.
Um, this post may be NSFW. There's no dirty pictures or anything (sorry), but I don't want to be held responsible if your dumb job can't handle swear words, white-hot text-based erotica (or as I like to call it, "white-hot sext-based e-write-ica"), or gross misconceptions of what is sexy on my part.
CHUCKESLUTS: A Sexy Story About Sex
Chapter 1
Crystal was tired of the rat race. She worked long, hard nights in the lab as an underpants tester. Long, hard nights putting on underpants, then taking off those underpants, then putting on another pair of underpants. Also, she put "Tested by Number 68" stickers in those underpants. She was Tester Number 68. That was her job.
But Crystal had bigger dreams- huge, heaving, globby dreams of being something greater. She wanted, more than anything in the world, to be a female stand up comedian. Night after night she went home to her apartment to watch VHS tapes of VH1's Stand-Up Spotlight (Krystal did not have cable). She watched sets from all of the great comediennes- Rosie O'Bonewell, Elayne Boobsler, Margaret Choad, Paula Poundstone - and thought "Yes, I could do this, too!" As she watched the jokes on tape, she would reach underneath her prescription flannel pajamas and place her hand ever so sexily on the side of her crotch. It was so super hot. Was it the temperature, or was it just her?
Crystal's life went on like this night after night, until one night that IT DIDN'T. And it was on that night she found an old copy of Henny Hungman's Big Book of Insluts. As she fingered the book, tracing its throbbing pages with her handtongues, she realized she could no longer simply fantasize about how much she wanted to be a comedian. She had to make her dream A SEX REALITY.
Come back for Chapter 2: Wet Hot American Cab Ride
But Crystal had bigger dreams- huge, heaving, globby dreams of being something greater. She wanted, more than anything in the world, to be a female stand up comedian. Night after night she went home to her apartment to watch VHS tapes of VH1's Stand-Up Spotlight (Krystal did not have cable). She watched sets from all of the great comediennes- Rosie O'Bonewell, Elayne Boobsler, Margaret Choad, Paula Poundstone - and thought "Yes, I could do this, too!" As she watched the jokes on tape, she would reach underneath her prescription flannel pajamas and place her hand ever so sexily on the side of her crotch. It was so super hot. Was it the temperature, or was it just her?
Crystal's life went on like this night after night, until one night that IT DIDN'T. And it was on that night she found an old copy of Henny Hungman's Big Book of Insluts. As she fingered the book, tracing its throbbing pages with her handtongues, she realized she could no longer simply fantasize about how much she wanted to be a comedian. She had to make her dream A SEX REALITY.
Come back for Chapter 2: Wet Hot American Cab Ride
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