Hot Sweltering Summer Sex Vignettes
Stuart Prestidge explores the sex act through the filter of modern slang.
By Stuart Prestidge, Fri., Aug. 11, 2000
Burping the Worm
Sex. Such a crude, abrupt word for such a beautiful and natural act. However, for the more verbose and eloquent among us, there have been for centuries numerous attempts by many, many great scholars to improve this situation and approach the subject of sex with a more refined tongue. Below is an actual everyday encounter relayed in the almost Shakespearean vernacular of present-day political correctness that adequately expresses the beauty of this already gorgeous act. Before the actual act is performed however, the devoted couple will hopefully go through a number of stages in order to increase arousal and overall enjoyment.n
First comes the foreplay, wherein the female may be invited to burp the worm or to polish Kojak's money box in order to arouse her man's blue-veined hooligan or womb broom into a pulsating pan-handle or horse's handbrake. The man, too, plays an important part in this sequence of events, stimulating her bearded axe wound with his hand by deftly feeding the horses until her furry letter box is wetter than an otter's pocket and ready for the second stage of sexual arousal. Most men hope and pray that what the second stage in this articulate look at the sexual act will include is oral sex. The male of the species will offer his pork sword with the hope that she may want to smoke the White House cigar. She, meanwhile, will offer up her hairy clam shaft and wait for him to take a sip from the hairy teacup. With sexual stimulation now at its height, the male may unfortunately deviate from the common goal and start to fondle her fun bags or top blisters, mistakenly assuming that his female companion is in need of extra arousal despite the fact that her nipples are already the size of a fighter pilot's thumbs. His mistake realized, the couple will conspire to inject his flesh torpedo between her meat curtains and mutually enjoy a bout of bedroom gymnastics or a pleasant game of hide the sausage. The end is now nigh as the woman shakes like a shitting dog and the man prepares to release his baby gravy within her deep red cavern, when the tragic realization occurs that neither have taken the responsible measure of providing birth control. The only avenue now open is the messy but fun method of withdrawal. Allowing enough time for the proper distribution of his filthy yogurt, the man disengages the sexual act hoping to furnish his mate with a pearl necklace, but due to excitement and the unfortunate male being burdened with a hair trigger he can only provide her with assorted jelly jewelry. The ensuing argument that this creates separates this loving couple, however, relegating the unfortunate male to a lifetime of choking the monkey and beating the bishop until he finally falls completely in love with Mrs. Palm and her five lovely daughters, and despite going blind, they live happily ever after.