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Bloo Ball
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.
Subject: complete boxed set, to be distributed freely and openly.
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************************ENTREPRENEUR*************vol. 1*****************
the only e-mag worth the time
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The Blueball Entrepreneur, Issue 1
You are in your dorm room late at night, about ready to call
it a day. You strip down to your bare nakedness, and curl up to
go to sleep. Suddenly, you hear three sharp knocks at your door.
Wondering who the hell it is, you jump out of bed and slip into
your favorite pair of dickenballs. You slowly open the door to
greet your visitor. It is Patricia Ridley, that infamous hoss
that you so lusted after back in your Bruton days.
"Oh, " Patricia exclaims, "I'm so sorry for how I was so
cruel to you all that time. I only know of one way that I can
repay you. Lay down." You obey her every command as you notice
that she is only wearing a trenchcoat. She climbs onto the bed
where you lay and stands above you, her feet pressed tightly
against your hips. As you are about to speak, Patricia takes
your breath away by slowly peeling off the trenchcoat. The only
thing covering her bare nakedness is a pair of white panties.
Her breasts glisten with the moisture in the air, perfect shining
orbs. She gazes longingly down at your eyes as she begins gently
tracing up and down her hips with her fingers. Slowly, Patricia
runs her fingers over the subtle curvature of her stomach, and
finally up to her ripe flesh melons. She begins kneading them,
letting her head fall gradually back with moans of pleasure.
Patricia falls to her knees as she traces around her nipples with
each index finger, bringing her head forward again to look at
you. Patricia rests her ample buttocks on your pelvis, and you
feel your fully erect manhood pressing against her soft flesh.
She lifts her left breast, leaning forward to reward your waiting
tongue. The erect pink nipple comes closer and closer to your
mouth, for what seems to be an eternity. You can feel the heat
of Patricia's breast on your tongue, when suddenly, she
disappears! M.C. Fredbiscuits of the Vatican is in Patricia's place,
screaming, "CREAM AND SATAN! CREAM AND SATAN!" as M.C.
Francois plays a demented keyboard riff in the background, both
of them cackling like madmen. You scream in blueball agony as
you await the end of this nightmare....
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
blue ball entrepreneur #2.....
So anyway, it's been a good evening. You went to dinner with Ruth and
her parents and they really seem to like you. In fact they gave you
permission to go out driving in their nice long Cadillac after supper.
As you slide into the driver's seat, you notice that Ruth has taken off her
panty hose and that her skirt is riding up her snow white thighs. You
can hardly contain the bulge in your boner pants as she smiles at you
knowingly. She slides the middle armrest up and cuddles next to you,
laying her hand gently on you leg and caressing it softly, her wrist
lightly touching your member with every gentle stroke. You glance briefly
in her direction only to find her caressing the moist hole between her
legs as her rubbing on your leg becomes more centralized. You can't take
anymore and pull off the road at one of those little lookout places. The
scene is very romantic. There is a beautiful river and a storm rolling in.
The first burst of lightning explodes as you slide Ruth's dress from her
shoulders and proceed to nurse on her ample boosom. She moans in ecstacy
and pulls your hand down to her sweet, warm honey hole. Your pleasure
cannot be contained as she gropes for your pulsating manhood and slowly
starts massaging, and gently pullong on it. She just starts pushing your
head down south when out of nowhere a screaming maniac is on top of the car.
You brace yourself for the worse as the parkway killer aims his assault rifle
at your face. All you can do is go limp as Ruthy's life drains with every
bullet.
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and some of our satisfied coustomers...
Cute.. Real cute. I'll pass the story on to other worthy individuals.
You guys are almost as sick as me.
Dave
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well, ahhhhhh. hmmmm.
that was odd. i can't wait for the next one.
jesus, i thought i was wierd. well, i am, but whatever.
keep them rolling, i like it.
Wonko the Sane/SFTe
[email protected]
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the glorious blueball entrepreneur
#3!!!
Well, its your sophomore year in college, and as your life begins to
fall into place, you think about the past. You think about your Bruton
days, and all the women you wanted to sport. Only one was the queen, and
that was Heidi Bechberger. You have heard rumors that her William and
Mary days are over, and that she had to drop out and seek a job to
make ends meet. You didn't believe it, but you soon found out that she
was a different person... Officer Bechberger!!!
You are stumbling along the street one night as you just begin to
sober up after a little Crazy Hoss at a party. A voice from behind you
calls out, "Hey, there, mister!" You whirl around to face the blue
uniform, and you begin to think that its all over. Your vision clears,
and you see that it is none other than Officer Bechberger!
"Oh, Heidi, hi... its been so long..." you say.
"Don't try that shit with me, " she commands, "I'm here to do my job,
and right now that job is busting you for underage drinking!"
Heidi holds a firm grip on your right arm as she escorts you back to
your apartment. Due to their wild partying, your roommates are not home
yet.
Once you get inside, Heidi orders, "Sit the fuck down, so I can take a
muthafuckin report on your stupid ass!" You obey as you admire her
shapely policewoman body. She leans over to give you a breathalyzer, and
you are feelin' drunk and horny, so you pull her down on top of you and
begin kissing her. She tries to fight at first, but you know that she
wants it as you unbutton her shirt. She has given in, and is straddling
you as you are slouched back in your chair. She slips off her shirt to
reveal her black lace bra, and her grapefruit size breasts. She lifts
them to your mouth as you bite the fastener on her bra. The bra finally
comes loose as the bountiful breasts spill forth, drowning your face in
soft, moist skin. Her famed nipples are more than enough to please you,
as you trace your tongue around the two-inch diameter, finally succumbing
and sucking the perky red tip.
As you indulge in a taste of mammary heaven, your hands grope thir
way around to Heidi's already loose pants. You unfasten them and pull
them down, your hands meeting wet, black lace. Your hands trace the
outline of her muscular buttocks, as you remove the panties as well,
Heidi's beautiful ass dripping in sweat. She rolls over onto her back,
her breasts tremoring with each heave of her panting chest. You whip out
the full erectness of your cock and slide it down her body, closer and
closer to its home.
"Dave, what the hell are you doing?" yells your father, Lar as he
gets up from where he laid. "I come to visit my son and get almost Goddam
raped by him! I'm the fuck outta here!" You realize the disastrous
mistake you made in your drunken stupor as you hang your head in shame....
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That has got to be one of the most disgusting, outlandish, horrifying,
repulsive, horrible storis I have read in my entire life!
Keep up the good work
PEACE LOVE AND HUMPTINESS
The Flanman is outta here....
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* Michael W. Flanagan Internet: [email protected] *
* a.k.a. The Flanman Johns Hopkins University, Balto, MD *
* *
* Beware...."Your home is my home....Welcome to the Terrordome" *
* Watch for HoUsE PaRtY with Mike coming to an area near you soon *
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i live about 20 minutes away from Blue Ball PA. never knew that
till i started getting your stuff and the name stuck in my head. cool.
-wonko
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The Blueball Entrepreneur #4, Pulling
This was a big day for you, for this was one of the few days you took
off from school for a full day of pud pulling pleasure. You awoke to the
sound of Ler's car pulling out of the driveway and the thoughts of upcoming
self-satisfaction filled you with glee as you arose fully panhandled from the
night's dreaming. You went to your closet to rumage for your favorite scud
magazine, Playboy. You were looking in particular for the issue featuring
Pamela Anderson. There was a brief gleem of lust as you found the issue so
desperately craved. You could hardly make it to the other side of the room,
such was your desire to whip you flesh covered mayonnaise pistol. You crept
across the floor, and down your private flight of stairs to the bathroom,
where the Vaseline, your lube of choice was kept. You smiled to yourself in
anticipation and headed for the living room. Erotic fantasies were churning
in your mind. Hopes of Heidi and Ruthy and the menage a trois only they
could promise, dreams of the Hoss and her fantastic breasts all were mulling
over in your head. You streched out on your huge couch and searched for your
six hour video tape loaded with late-night Cinemax scud movie clips (you were
bound and determined to make this a day of fantastic pleasure!). Finally the
mood was right, a few choice scenes from Emmanuel IV were dancing on the
screen, the Playboy was open to the Pamela pictorial, and your hot hog was
glistening in fully Vaselined glory. You began to stroke delicately your
member, savoring every moment, making the feeling last. Your mind began
roaming to days past. You day-dreamed about Mattia and the pleasure only her
bucking hips could bring. That thought alone almost brought you to orgasm,
but you held out. You loved these marathon sessions. They were the closest
thing to actually kicking rounds, you believed. After hours of punching
pleasure, you decided to fulfil you greatest desire. You braced yourself for
the effort. You began roughly stroking yourself, gripping tighter and
tighter, pulling your rock hard steely for all it was worth. You closed your
eyes and curled your toes as you felt yourself on the brink of shooting your
hot load all over your stomach. It was just about to happen when the old
Stanley automatic garage door opener kicked in. You lept up, cock purple
with blueball agony as Ler stepped through the threshold, looking at your
naked body dart by. He smiled knowingly, picked up dear Pamela and headed
for his room.
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I would hereby like to unsubscribe this mailing list.
Rune
([email protected])
PGP 2.x Public Key available on request.
well i guess we just weren't good enough for some people. i guess
masturbation is still a taboo subject for some. oh well, submit, submit,
submit. this publication is useless without contributors (it's useless
anyway, but don't tell). oh well, see you in a week with glorious #5.
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remember information is free. distribute near and far. long live
blooball, and all it stands for...................................
Subject: Blooball Entrepreneur V
You sit in your apartment enjoying your single life, and you have
ditched your popularity leech, Bech Bruce. (Ed. note- this is a fictional
story, all names are fictional, and any parallels to the real world are
purely coincidental.) Anyway, as I was saying, you are sitting in your
apartment over the summer, and you decide that you need a big, fat, juicy
Slurpee (TM). You leave and stroll on down the sunny street, entering
the shining Mecca of convenient stores, 7-11.
You pour yourself a bountiful cup of cherry Slurpee (TM), ane walk
toward the counter to pay for it. The cashier seems to be in the back, as
you yell, "Hey, I want to buy a muthafuckin slurpee, ya seven eleven ass
bitch!"
"Excuse me?", you hear as you see the sexy ass face of Mattia
Obradovic poke out from inside the back door.
"Oh, Mattia- sorry, " you apologize as she yells, "Shut up you slug!
If you didn't know, I am in the niniety-five percent of bitches who like
to be treated like the kitchen-dwelling slaves that we are."
Mattia draws nearer as she slowly unzips her red seven eleven shirt
to reveal her four-inch deep cleavage. You bow your head down in
reverence, as you lean forward to partake in the feast of breastly
plentitude. Mattia stops you as she gestures for you to follow her into
the back room. You obey as you walk into the storage room to find Mattia
assuming the position of FUCKIN' on a few cases of Dr. Pecker. You take
your place between her powerful legs as you unbutton her jeans and begin
to slip them off. It is difficult for you to stay on her bare chest
because of the sheer mass of her tits. You roll off as though you were
trying to balance yourself on a pair of basketballs. Her erect nipples
poke into your chest as you succeed in removing her jeans. She now wears
nothing but black bikini panties. You remove them, sliding your hands
over her wide hips. The moist smoothness of her hips soon turns into
crusty scabbiness as you realize that you had mistaken Mattia for a pile
of picked scabs. Your penis is cemented inside the pile by blooball dribbles
as you are stuck in the back of seven-eleven forever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
oh well, this is good-bye
i bid thee well
so long
see ya
later
john
Subject: blueball #666
You've just walked out of everyone's favorite convenience store,
sleepy-head, with thoughts of some of your old bitches on your mind. You had
heard the rumors purported by your friend john on the mystical and
hallucinatory effects of mixing chile picante con limon cornuts with blue
nehi cream soda, and had decided to try for yourself. The vatican was
performing tonight and the Holy Ghost had gotten you backstage passes. Two
to be precise, one for you and one for your cutie. You get on the horn nad
call up OGF (the cornuts are kicking like mad by now) and she accepts the
offer to see Williamsburgs best techno/industrial band. You get to the show
just as the Final Masquerade is finishing their set. OGF rubs accidentally
against your arm with her perky, firm left breast sending chills down your
nehi-numbed spine. The vatican busts wildly into their first tune, the
omnipresent "Cream and Satan," a chilling commentary on life in the
third-world countries of central america. OGF goes wild at this point,
lifting her arms and dancing in typical techno-slut style. The strobe lights
are throbbing in perfect time with the blood in your now-engorged member.
OGF winks sweetly as she peels off her Bruton High letter jacket, revealing
her lace encased boobs bouncing in time with "Town and Color." Oh, heavan
and bliss you think as OGF kisses you while the two of you stand in line to
receive the traditional communion offered at all Vatican shows. You see his
noble holiness Pater Jonas offer your squeeze a hearty helping of Colt 45
pie, the Vatican interpretation of the body of Christ. OGF being the good
little catholic she is doesn't even bat an eye as she goes back and receives
communion another three times. Of course each time she gets a hearty swig of
the blood of Jesus (DR. Pecker spiked with magnum). Ahhhh yeahhhhh, croons
Filius Chappius as OGF pushes you to the corner, to a table, and finally
pulls out your little man. She bobs in time to The Holy Ghost pounding out
the rythm on the immense blue barrel. Incontent with oral sex, OGF decides
to give you a real treat. Off comes the lace bra. She then proceeds to
squeeze her milky white breasts around your quivering not-so-little man. As
your saliva covered pecker pokes his head in and out of her cleavage a sound
suddenly strikes you back to reality. A car horn is blaring and two rednecks
are getting out of their truck to beat your ass. The last thing you see is
the pavenment of jamestown road under your face as the attendant sleeps on
peacefully.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%well, i guess this iood-bye...
john swart, one-half of mahn swoss, super- genius,
lover of hyphens, destroyer of galaxies
sweethart bent on
destruction
a lovable yet disturbed guy, oh well...
xxx xxx
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