It was a hot summer afternoon and I was lethargic as fuck; the kind of day dominated by swamp ass and hot babes by the pool. Unfortunately, I couldn’t chill poolside due to an incident involving some milf claiming I flirted with her a little bit. Let me be clear though, I do NOT flirt. I cut out that foreplay bullshit and spanked that slut in the fanny, making my intentions known. She turned, eyed my cock, and called me an asshole. Puzzled, I turned around and was confronted by a spanking of my own. From her hubby, across my face, with his fist.
Anyways, since my options for the day were limited, I decided to pack a lip for the first time in a long time with one of my homies. Disclaimer: there are certain items I put into my body that make my flatulence unbearably putrid. Let me put it this way, poodles have dropped dead when giving me their customary greeting. Two of those items were ingested on that day, within a very, very short time frame. Lunch was filled with dairy- cheese pizza topped with feta, rocky road ice cream and a dollop of sour cream. Item number two was the fat dingleberry tucked below my lateral incisors. So, with my ammo loaded, and my tummy and tush telling me it’s time, I let one rip. A menacing smile and a small chuckle let my buddy know what’s up. But instead of the expected contorted, horrified facial expression I was hoping for, the dude starts fucking laughing. It was then that I realized, to my dismay, that I had once again produced stinky, liquid milk chocolate out my brown eye. Fucking sharts. I angrily scurried to the lil’ boys room leaving the residue on my chair that seeped through.
Upon arrival to the bathroom, I promptly spit out the dip with the intentions of shamefully cleaning up. But as I dropped my shorts and undies, I stared in awe at what I had produced. Lying amidst the hideous brown waste was the dollop of sour cream, undigested and perfectly intact. I was so moved that I carefully picked up my attire and walked exposed back to my car. I drove home and walked through the house where I was greeted by my bitch mom bitchin’ about how bad I reek, my naked appearance and the dishes that she put away for me. Fuckin’ hoe. But I couldn’t hear a word she was saying; I was mesmerized by my gift from God.
Shout out to the big man upstairs, my buddy who let me bum a lip, and last but not least, my lactose intolerance.