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The Chronicles of Mr. Black: Weevenge
Posted by Mr. BlackI’m back! I don’t have a good explanation for why there was such a huge gap between posts from me. I’ve been drinking a lot of beer, chasing girls with big boobs, and playing a lot of Modern Warfare 2. What can I say? I lead a busy life.
Anyway, I think it’s about time that I posted another story. This is actually one of my all time favorites.
I dated a fucking whore girl named Michelle for about six months around the time that I moved into my first apartment. I met her through a mutual friend who apparently thought that I needed a raging bitch to spice up my social life. She was hot, though, and I was stupid.
I could tell that Michelle was really into me from the moment we met. I knew this because, well, I had a cock and a pulse. I liked Michelle because she had the body of a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader and the sexual boundaries of a Bangkok hooker. No, really. I once put a popsicle (grape, in case you’re wondering) in her ass while she was blowing me. She didn’t even flinch. That, my friends, is a sign that you have a true slut hanging from the end of your dick.
Unfortunately for me, I eventually discovered that mine was not the only popsicle finding its way into Michelle’s holes. In fact, it turned out that Michelle was landing vagina first on all manner of frozen treats. (Hey, at least I’m the only one who got one up her ass, right? Right.) Of course, this didn’t sit well with me. But what can I say? I’m male. I don’t like it when somebody else is jamming their dirty ice cream sandwich into the same hole that I’m Otter Popping.
As many of you have already figured out, however, I’m a terrible person and I have a special way of handling girls who swear allegiance to cocks other than my own. So, what horrible thing did I do to get back at her, you ask?
I cooked dinner for her.
Then, I took her out to a movie.
On the way home, I picked up a bottle of expensive wine for us to share in front of the fireplace.
Yeah, that’s right. I treated her like a queen. Why? Because I didn’t want her to know that I knew about her other erectile adventures. Not yet, at least. I needed to get her in bed one more time. It worked, of course. We drank our wine. We talked and laughed. We stared deeply into each other’s eyes. She gave me a handjob. It was romantic.
We eventually made our way into the bedroom, where I’m sure Michelle was expecting a magical romp in the sheets. Indeed, I did have something magical planned. Only it didn’t involve the bed. Or the sheets.
It did involve my bladder, though.
In what I can only describe as a life changing moment for both of us, I did something to Michelle that I’m fairly certain no other man has done to a woman and lived to talk about. She’d just started to give me a tender, loving, slobber-soaked ride to the back of her throat when I decided to unleash the dogs of war.
I started to pee.
It took her a solid three seconds to figure out what was happening. By the time the taste and the warmth registered in her brain, it was already too late. The big red button had been pressed. The launch sequence was activated and there was no turning back. She threw herself backward, separating from my dick like the booster engine breaking away from a NASA missile. Piss went everywhere. Michelle choked and coughed and gagged, followed by a scream and tears and a, “What the fu…?”
And I just kept peeing.
I took a step toward her, taking hold of my cock like a firehose. If you’ve ever tried to urinate with an erection, then you can probably imagine how things went from there. I don’t think anything in that corner of the room came away unscathed. The curtain. The bed. The pillows. The night stand. Michelle. The lamp on the nightstand. My cell phone. Michelle. A novel that I never did finish reading.
And I just kept the stream going until my bladder was empty.
Needless to say, Michelle was pissed. (I slay myself, sometimes.) I called her a filthy, lying bitch. She probably would’ve said something back had she not been choking on my pee. She didn’t even clean herself up. She just put on her clothes (her shirt was soaked in whiz), grabbed her purse, and ran out.
I never saw or heard from her again. Not even so much as a Christmas card.
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haha quality
Comment by Anonymous — 12/05/2009 #
You sir are my God!!
Comment by Anonymous — 12/05/2009 #
my hero!
Comment by mr black — 12/05/2009 #
Wow, what a legend!!!
Comment by Anonymous — 12/05/2009 #
Feces
Comment by HarryTwatter — 12/05/2009 #
Fucking lol’d. You do good work.
Comment by Eli — 12/05/2009 #
For fuck’s sake, you’re an awful person. Every post of yours I read makes you sound like more of a cunt.
Comment by AAAAAAAHHH — 12/05/2009 #
Another wow….
Comment by mamono — 12/06/2009 #
@AAAAAAAHHH
yea, he may be a cunt but at least he a legendary cunt
Comment by Anonymous — 12/06/2009 #
i’m with AAAAAAAAAAAHHH
it was to be expected that most prepubescent readers would be in awe at such disturbing account , however, for the rest of us you indeed come across as a total twat
you claim to have golden showered a slut because she happened to have been a slut while in fact you were together because she indeed WAS a slut…..
i hope your pillows still reeks of piss
Comment by Dablindfrog — 12/06/2009 #
AHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA.
Comment by Anonymous — 12/11/2009 #