I failed to come
A few years ago, I was washed up on a Polynesian island inhabited solely by women who looked like Salma Hayek. It was a race of hyper-nubile identical offspring. For reasons known only to them, they strapped me naked to a post.

I discovered later that their religion had predicted the arrival of a god from the sea - slightly balding and with a fat gut, but with an ever- ready member. Numerous castaways had been washed up on their island, but had all been beheaded as ungodly. Why? Because the women believed that godliness was contained in a divine essence stored in the man's scrote. If they couldn't get it out, then the man must be a god. Go figure.

So they strapped me naked to this post and formed an orderly queue to test my divine essence. Imagine, if you will, an endless line of nude Salma Hayeks bending over to take a swollen member in their heavenly mouths, and you will see my situation. After 30 mins or so of expert felllation, they upped the stakes and began to impale themselves on my twitching ardour, using every orifice available to them.. Some of them got quite carried away, I can tell you, thrashing about on my glistening rod and moaning in their native tongue. I'd never seen so much perfect nudity attending to my tool.

After the whole island had exhausted themselves on my rigidity, they cut me free and made me a god - for I had not shot my bolt. They then told me that I would be expected to service them all until old age rendered me infirm and impotent. Only ... I would not be able to come.

My balls are the size of space hoppers.
(frankspencer, Wed 10 Jan 2007, 13:08, Reply)