Erotic Pulp Fiction
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CLUB MAGAZIN FICTION free porn video
Woodcock
Excitement ran high inside the bus. The lucky passengers clutched their cameras and binoculars, tripods and notebooks and tape recorders, all of them eagerly looking ahead of the most rewarding experiences of their lives.
An almost miraculous event had just taken place, one which they were on their way to document for posterity. The plaintive song of the purple woodcock, though extinct for almost a hundred years, had been heard again in the marshes on the outskirts of the city. Soon the rara aviswas sighted preening its feathers among the high marsh grass. The sighting was confirmed and the call went out to “birders” throughout the region who quickly organized an expedition to see the winged wonder up close.
“Poor devil”, Ms. Wigglesworth said to her bus-mate Mr. Pudsdale. “He must be under intolerable stress:”
“Quite”, returned Pudsdale who was adjusting the strap on his binoculars, “I am in doudt whether he will survive.”
“I concur”, Ms. Wigglesworth replied, “It would be a miracle if he bred with the others of his feathered ilk.
“Indubitably,” Pudsdale returned. “It is fortunate, at any rate, that the owner of the property consented to allow our society free reign in our scholarly pursuit,” Ms. Wigglesworth added.
“Yes”, Pudsdale replied, looking out the window, “I understand from our esteemed President, Mr. Jerkoff, that the property owners left the back gate open for us.
Look, ”he suddenly cried out as the bus turned from the highway and juddered onto a muddy track, “there’s the gate now!”
Their hearts beating excitedly, the birders piled from the bus which had brought them, almost delirious with the knowledge that somewhere amidst the expanse of high grass roosted the purple woodcock. Soon they were spreading out across the hummocks of grass and isolated copses of water-loving trees, each hoping to be the one to make the first sighting.
Parting a curtain of high grass, Pudsdale caught sight of movement in the marsh reeds just up ahead. His pulse quickened. Could it be the rara avis? he wondered. He pressed on toward the tantalizing flash of motion, progressing slowly so as not to disturb his feathered quarry. He saw a flicker of motion again, just up ahead. Clutching his camera, he softly parted the remaining stand of high grass and gasped in amazement.
There on the ground before him Pudsdale saw not the purple woodcock but a beautiful naked blonde. She was lying on her back, her large breasts pointed toward the sun, her thick brown nipples erect, her snatch tufted with a matting of tawny pubic hair, her belly firm, her lips ripe, her – “Ahem”, Pudsdale coughed, “pardon the intrusion. I’ll just be moving on.”
The red-faced birder turned to make a discreet exit bit the girl merely giggled. “Don’t go,” she said, rising to a crouching position. “I could use some company.” Really, miss …” Pudsdale stammered, but by this point the gorgeous nude was already tugging down the zipper of his pants and clutched his cock in her small white hand. Pudsdale dropped his camera and let out a grunt of surprise and delight as she brought her moist lips to the swollen head of his penis and began kissing it, moving her lips and tongue down the length of his engorged shaft. She sucked him slowly, until his pecker was hard as a bar of iron.
“Now fuck me, please fuck me!” she purred as she released Pudsdale’s throbbing prick and lay back down on the soft grass, her legs spread, her arms reaching up toward the nonplussed birder.
Pudsdale had little choice. His dick was a raging firebrand, desperate to be quenched in the moist wellspring of her yearning sex. He knelt down, fumbling with his belt and pushed his pants down around his knees. Pudsdale was inside the girl’s sweet pussy in seconds, pumping his prick in and out as she moaned and moved gently against him.
“Oh, I’m Cumming!” she cried as her pussy exploded, with Pudsdale’s bursting prick following seconds later, cannoning gob after gob of hot sticky jizzum into her cum-craving snatch.
At the precise instate that Pudsdale’s cock began spitting up bolts, Ms. Wigglesworth chanced upon a most shocking sight as she climbed the shallow slope of a shady copse. Within the stand of trees a naked man with a huge penis was masturbating himself. “My word”, the lady birder cried out in horror. “What is this outrage?”
“Oh, come off it, lady,” the naked man returned, continuing to fist his enormous the-incher. “Jerking off is no big deal. I do it a lot. But if you wanna know the truth, two can get off better than one.”
“How dare you!” Ms. Wigglesworth cried out in affront. “This is, this is …!” Ms. Wigglesworth’s words ceased abruptly, however, as the young man with the bulging erection took her in his arms and kissed her and she felt herself responding to his carnal advances eagerly, parting her lips to mingle her tongue with his as she reached out to grab the mammoth penis which he offered her.
“ . . . This is wonderful!” Ms. Wigglesworth now gasped as she was carried in the strong arms of the nude man to a soft patch of grass and quickly stripped naked herself. Spreading the female birder’s legs, the man knelt between them and began licking out her snatch while he reached forward to squeeze her up-sticking tits.
When her snatch was as juicy as a rare porterhouse steak, the young man propped Ms. Wigglesworth’s legs on his shoulders and slid his long, hard pecker way up her wet, ready snatch. Ms. Wigglesworth came instantly, her entire body shuddering, moaning, “Yes Yes Ooooh Yessss!”as he plowed her fertile valley, driving his dong in and out until he shot a rusty load of jizzum deep inside her.
Whipping out his wang, the man completed his orgasm by masturbating himself all over Ms. Wigglesworth’s belly and breasts while she closed her eyes and came again the instant his scalding hot sperm landed on her naked flesh. Parting her legs, she eagerly threw her arms around his back as he penetrated her cunt again and began fucking her afresh.
Not long after this erotic encounter, the President of the Birders Society, Mr. Jerkoff, heard the sound of thrashing in the bushes just up ahead on the fringes of the great salt marsh.
Believing himself to be on the verge of an encounter with the beautiful and elusive purple woodcock, he switched his tape recorder on and held out the microphone in front of him as he straddled a grassy rise and suddenly came upon the source of the trashing.
To his amazement and chagrin, Jerkoff saw that what had produced the sounds was not a bird at all, but instead two bodies locked in a most lubricious embrace. Despite his initial shock, Jerkoff stood mesmerized with the microphone clutched in his fist as she watched the humming ass of the naked man on top of the equally naked woman drive a huge phallus in and out her gaping cunt, then pull out and jerk himself off all over her belly. Instead of the plaintive song of the purple woodcock, all he recorded were an assortment of grunts, groans and thrashing sounds of various kinds.
Suddenly Jerkoff realized that the couple was switching positions, with the woman kneeling down on all fours and the man squatting behind her, his fingers pressed tightly into the resilient flesh of her supple, gleaming buns.
Both of these shameless sybarites were now coupling in the lewdest of manners. What’s more, they were doing it right in front of him, paying as little attention to his presence as they might to a tree or a rock.
“Hi”, the wanton vixen said, even as she raised up her horny ass, preparing to be fucked from the rear by her sweaty, groaning stud who stood behind her massaging his obscenely-inflamed penis to enormous erection. “Wanna let me suck you off?” The dumbfounded Jerkoff now found his wits and replied, “Madame, you are the whore-monger standing behind you offend me to the depths of my being. Be advised that I shall report these lewd and indecent carryings on to the local police. Good day.”
“What’s the matter, can’t get it up?” the girl asked mockingly as Jerkoff turned to leave.
“Maybe he’s gay,” the stud behind her offered with a snicker. Stung by these words, Jerkoff turned back to the naked twosome and replied, “Madame, sir, I will have you know that I have the singular honor of being a veteran of the French Foreign Legion, The Legion does not accept sissies into its ranks.”
“Yeah, prove it,” the girl continued, reaching out to grasp the zipper of Jerkoff’s safari pants and tug it down exposing a massive lump in the birder’s undershorts. “Maybe you’re a real man after all,” she continued as she saw evidence of Jerkoff’s large pecker, before pushing down pants and undershorts and molding her hands and lips to the balls and cock that now jutted completely naked in the warm summer air.
While the girl sucked Jerkoff’s rigid joint, the stud behind her eased his own long, hard shank into her creamy box and began fucking her pussy from the backdoor position . Rammed from behind by the hard pummeling of her cocksman’s pistoning hips, she drove Jerkoff’s long fuck-hammer deep inside her throat as she bounced back and forth between two hard, throbbing peckers.
Within minutes, her backdoor man whipped out his long purple plugger and pumped out a shooting silver cock rocket of gleaming jizz that splattered all over her audaciously upturned rump. Through half-closed eyes, Jerkoff watched him rear back and flail his fist over his geysering organ which spat its fuck fluids high into the air in a thick, hot stream.
With his own orgasm impending, Jerkoff reached forward to squeeze his cocksucker’s hanging breasts as he shoved his prick deep down her throat and went off like a cannon.
His first cum sent a sizzling jet of slick sexual mucous bolting down her eager throat. His second cum filled her mouth with pungent white erotic icing that flew onto her jiggling breasts. Jerkoff’s third cum was a searing bolt of liquid lightning that shot onto the sweet slut’s torso as he completed the sex act with a full-frontal fuck finale that drenched her with an April shower of gummy groin goo.
At yet another corner of the marsh, Ms. Slutly has all but given up on sighting the elusive purple woodcock when she chanced to hear a soft peeping sound coming from nearby that she thought she recognized as the rara avis’ telltale mating call.
Her pulse quickened in anticipation. To sight the rara avis was one thing, bit to catch it in the act of sending forth a mating call would be the coup of a lifetime! She would be revered as a legend to birders across the globe. Clutching her binoculars, Ms. Slutly hastened to the source of the cry she had just heard.
When she reached the spot she was instantly mortified. o bird was there. Instead two women engaged in what might be delicately called “the rites of Sappho” were sprawled indecorously on the ground. One was on top of the other and their mouths were clamped to each other’s sexual organs, explaining why their cries of passion were muffled so as to closely resemble the soft piping of the purple woodcock.
Ms. Slutly hurried away but in her haste stumbled over a hidden root and toppled to the ground, almost landing atop the two thrashing naked forms locked in their Sapphic embrace. How it came to happen, Ms. Slutly would never understand, but somehow she soon found herself on her back with her knees pushed into her tits and one of the women fucking her gushing poon with a double-ended strap-on dildo while the other woman squatted on Ms. Slutly’s face and ground her muff into her nose while she diddled her horny clit and climaxed over and over again.
Soon, Ms. Slutly was climaxing as well, her pussy exploding endlessly as the rubber cock filled her to the depths of her throbbing sex.
In the midst of the mind-boggling multiple orgasms she was enjoying, Ms. Slutly did not hear the unique plaintive note sounding over and over again from the high marsh reeds just beyond, nor notice the flapping of the feathered wings as the purple woodcock rose majestically from the rushes and flew from the area entirely.
Hours after they had stepped from the bus, the group of birders formed up again at the appointed rallying spot, each clutching their cameras and the gear.
As they were boarding the bus the bus driver took the Society’s President, Mr. Jerkoff aside and told him something he’d learned, in confidence. “I took a walk to stretch my legs,” the driver said conspiratorially. There was a building across the field over there, so I went in. Guess what I found out? “Do tell,” Jerkoff said drily. “The place is a nudist colony” the driver went on, whispering this in to the President’s ear. “Can you believe that? A fuckin’ nudist colony!”
“Interesting”, Jerkoff replied, patting the driver on the shoulder. “You’ll keep it under your hat, won’t you? There is a good fellow.” A few minutes later the bus full of birders turned and headed back towards the main road, each passenger on board bragging to the others about his encounter with the rarest of all the feathered tripe, the elusive purple woodcock.
Excitement ran high inside the bus. The lucky passengers clutched their cameras and binoculars, tripods and notebooks and tape recorders, all of them eagerly looking ahead of the most rewarding experiences of their lives.
An almost miraculous event had just taken place, one which they were on their way to document for posterity. The plaintive song of the purple woodcock, though extinct for almost a hundred years, had been heard again in the marshes on the outskirts of the city. Soon the rara aviswas sighted preening its feathers among the high marsh grass. The sighting was confirmed and the call went out to “birders” throughout the region who quickly organized an expedition to see the winged wonder up close.
“Poor devil”, Ms. Wigglesworth said to her bus-mate Mr. Pudsdale. “He must be under intolerable stress:”
“Quite”, returned Pudsdale who was adjusting the strap on his binoculars, “I am in doudt whether he will survive.”
“I concur”, Ms. Wigglesworth replied, “It would be a miracle if he bred with the others of his feathered ilk.
“Indubitably,” Pudsdale returned. “It is fortunate, at any rate, that the owner of the property consented to allow our society free reign in our scholarly pursuit,” Ms. Wigglesworth added.
“Yes”, Pudsdale replied, looking out the window, “I understand from our esteemed President, Mr. Jerkoff, that the property owners left the back gate open for us.
Look, ”he suddenly cried out as the bus turned from the highway and juddered onto a muddy track, “there’s the gate now!”
Their hearts beating excitedly, the birders piled from the bus which had brought them, almost delirious with the knowledge that somewhere amidst the expanse of high grass roosted the purple woodcock. Soon they were spreading out across the hummocks of grass and isolated copses of water-loving trees, each hoping to be the one to make the first sighting.
Parting a curtain of high grass, Pudsdale caught sight of movement in the marsh reeds just up ahead. His pulse quickened. Could it be the rara avis? he wondered. He pressed on toward the tantalizing flash of motion, progressing slowly so as not to disturb his feathered quarry. He saw a flicker of motion again, just up ahead. Clutching his camera, he softly parted the remaining stand of high grass and gasped in amazement.
There on the ground before him Pudsdale saw not the purple woodcock but a beautiful naked blonde. She was lying on her back, her large breasts pointed toward the sun, her thick brown nipples erect, her snatch tufted with a matting of tawny pubic hair, her belly firm, her lips ripe, her – “Ahem”, Pudsdale coughed, “pardon the intrusion. I’ll just be moving on.”
The red-faced birder turned to make a discreet exit bit the girl merely giggled. “Don’t go,” she said, rising to a crouching position. “I could use some company.” Really, miss …” Pudsdale stammered, but by this point the gorgeous nude was already tugging down the zipper of his pants and clutched his cock in her small white hand. Pudsdale dropped his camera and let out a grunt of surprise and delight as she brought her moist lips to the swollen head of his penis and began kissing it, moving her lips and tongue down the length of his engorged shaft. She sucked him slowly, until his pecker was hard as a bar of iron.
“Now fuck me, please fuck me!” she purred as she released Pudsdale’s throbbing prick and lay back down on the soft grass, her legs spread, her arms reaching up toward the nonplussed birder.
Pudsdale had little choice. His dick was a raging firebrand, desperate to be quenched in the moist wellspring of her yearning sex. He knelt down, fumbling with his belt and pushed his pants down around his knees. Pudsdale was inside the girl’s sweet pussy in seconds, pumping his prick in and out as she moaned and moved gently against him.
“Oh, I’m Cumming!” she cried as her pussy exploded, with Pudsdale’s bursting prick following seconds later, cannoning gob after gob of hot sticky jizzum into her cum-craving snatch.
At the precise instate that Pudsdale’s cock began spitting up bolts, Ms. Wigglesworth chanced upon a most shocking sight as she climbed the shallow slope of a shady copse. Within the stand of trees a naked man with a huge penis was masturbating himself. “My word”, the lady birder cried out in horror. “What is this outrage?”
“Oh, come off it, lady,” the naked man returned, continuing to fist his enormous the-incher. “Jerking off is no big deal. I do it a lot. But if you wanna know the truth, two can get off better than one.”
“How dare you!” Ms. Wigglesworth cried out in affront. “This is, this is …!” Ms. Wigglesworth’s words ceased abruptly, however, as the young man with the bulging erection took her in his arms and kissed her and she felt herself responding to his carnal advances eagerly, parting her lips to mingle her tongue with his as she reached out to grab the mammoth penis which he offered her.
“ . . . This is wonderful!” Ms. Wigglesworth now gasped as she was carried in the strong arms of the nude man to a soft patch of grass and quickly stripped naked herself. Spreading the female birder’s legs, the man knelt between them and began licking out her snatch while he reached forward to squeeze her up-sticking tits.
When her snatch was as juicy as a rare porterhouse steak, the young man propped Ms. Wigglesworth’s legs on his shoulders and slid his long, hard pecker way up her wet, ready snatch. Ms. Wigglesworth came instantly, her entire body shuddering, moaning, “Yes Yes Ooooh Yessss!”as he plowed her fertile valley, driving his dong in and out until he shot a rusty load of jizzum deep inside her.
Whipping out his wang, the man completed his orgasm by masturbating himself all over Ms. Wigglesworth’s belly and breasts while she closed her eyes and came again the instant his scalding hot sperm landed on her naked flesh. Parting her legs, she eagerly threw her arms around his back as he penetrated her cunt again and began fucking her afresh.
Not long after this erotic encounter, the President of the Birders Society, Mr. Jerkoff, heard the sound of thrashing in the bushes just up ahead on the fringes of the great salt marsh.
Believing himself to be on the verge of an encounter with the beautiful and elusive purple woodcock, he switched his tape recorder on and held out the microphone in front of him as he straddled a grassy rise and suddenly came upon the source of the trashing.
To his amazement and chagrin, Jerkoff saw that what had produced the sounds was not a bird at all, but instead two bodies locked in a most lubricious embrace. Despite his initial shock, Jerkoff stood mesmerized with the microphone clutched in his fist as she watched the humming ass of the naked man on top of the equally naked woman drive a huge phallus in and out her gaping cunt, then pull out and jerk himself off all over her belly. Instead of the plaintive song of the purple woodcock, all he recorded were an assortment of grunts, groans and thrashing sounds of various kinds.
Suddenly Jerkoff realized that the couple was switching positions, with the woman kneeling down on all fours and the man squatting behind her, his fingers pressed tightly into the resilient flesh of her supple, gleaming buns.
Both of these shameless sybarites were now coupling in the lewdest of manners. What’s more, they were doing it right in front of him, paying as little attention to his presence as they might to a tree or a rock.
“Hi”, the wanton vixen said, even as she raised up her horny ass, preparing to be fucked from the rear by her sweaty, groaning stud who stood behind her massaging his obscenely-inflamed penis to enormous erection. “Wanna let me suck you off?” The dumbfounded Jerkoff now found his wits and replied, “Madame, you are the whore-monger standing behind you offend me to the depths of my being. Be advised that I shall report these lewd and indecent carryings on to the local police. Good day.”
“What’s the matter, can’t get it up?” the girl asked mockingly as Jerkoff turned to leave.
“Maybe he’s gay,” the stud behind her offered with a snicker. Stung by these words, Jerkoff turned back to the naked twosome and replied, “Madame, sir, I will have you know that I have the singular honor of being a veteran of the French Foreign Legion, The Legion does not accept sissies into its ranks.”
“Yeah, prove it,” the girl continued, reaching out to grasp the zipper of Jerkoff’s safari pants and tug it down exposing a massive lump in the birder’s undershorts. “Maybe you’re a real man after all,” she continued as she saw evidence of Jerkoff’s large pecker, before pushing down pants and undershorts and molding her hands and lips to the balls and cock that now jutted completely naked in the warm summer air.
While the girl sucked Jerkoff’s rigid joint, the stud behind her eased his own long, hard shank into her creamy box and began fucking her pussy from the backdoor position . Rammed from behind by the hard pummeling of her cocksman’s pistoning hips, she drove Jerkoff’s long fuck-hammer deep inside her throat as she bounced back and forth between two hard, throbbing peckers.
Within minutes, her backdoor man whipped out his long purple plugger and pumped out a shooting silver cock rocket of gleaming jizz that splattered all over her audaciously upturned rump. Through half-closed eyes, Jerkoff watched him rear back and flail his fist over his geysering organ which spat its fuck fluids high into the air in a thick, hot stream.
With his own orgasm impending, Jerkoff reached forward to squeeze his cocksucker’s hanging breasts as he shoved his prick deep down her throat and went off like a cannon.
His first cum sent a sizzling jet of slick sexual mucous bolting down her eager throat. His second cum filled her mouth with pungent white erotic icing that flew onto her jiggling breasts. Jerkoff’s third cum was a searing bolt of liquid lightning that shot onto the sweet slut’s torso as he completed the sex act with a full-frontal fuck finale that drenched her with an April shower of gummy groin goo.
At yet another corner of the marsh, Ms. Slutly has all but given up on sighting the elusive purple woodcock when she chanced to hear a soft peeping sound coming from nearby that she thought she recognized as the rara avis’ telltale mating call.
Her pulse quickened in anticipation. To sight the rara avis was one thing, bit to catch it in the act of sending forth a mating call would be the coup of a lifetime! She would be revered as a legend to birders across the globe. Clutching her binoculars, Ms. Slutly hastened to the source of the cry she had just heard.
When she reached the spot she was instantly mortified. o bird was there. Instead two women engaged in what might be delicately called “the rites of Sappho” were sprawled indecorously on the ground. One was on top of the other and their mouths were clamped to each other’s sexual organs, explaining why their cries of passion were muffled so as to closely resemble the soft piping of the purple woodcock.
Ms. Slutly hurried away but in her haste stumbled over a hidden root and toppled to the ground, almost landing atop the two thrashing naked forms locked in their Sapphic embrace. How it came to happen, Ms. Slutly would never understand, but somehow she soon found herself on her back with her knees pushed into her tits and one of the women fucking her gushing poon with a double-ended strap-on dildo while the other woman squatted on Ms. Slutly’s face and ground her muff into her nose while she diddled her horny clit and climaxed over and over again.
Soon, Ms. Slutly was climaxing as well, her pussy exploding endlessly as the rubber cock filled her to the depths of her throbbing sex.
In the midst of the mind-boggling multiple orgasms she was enjoying, Ms. Slutly did not hear the unique plaintive note sounding over and over again from the high marsh reeds just beyond, nor notice the flapping of the feathered wings as the purple woodcock rose majestically from the rushes and flew from the area entirely.
Hours after they had stepped from the bus, the group of birders formed up again at the appointed rallying spot, each clutching their cameras and the gear.
As they were boarding the bus the bus driver took the Society’s President, Mr. Jerkoff aside and told him something he’d learned, in confidence. “I took a walk to stretch my legs,” the driver said conspiratorially. There was a building across the field over there, so I went in. Guess what I found out? “Do tell,” Jerkoff said drily. “The place is a nudist colony” the driver went on, whispering this in to the President’s ear. “Can you believe that? A fuckin’ nudist colony!”
“Interesting”, Jerkoff replied, patting the driver on the shoulder. “You’ll keep it under your hat, won’t you? There is a good fellow.” A few minutes later the bus full of birders turned and headed back towards the main road, each passenger on board bragging to the others about his encounter with the rarest of all the feathered tripe, the elusive purple woodcock.
Fay
- 03.09.2020
- 7
- 0
