» Nativity Plays

Fish-face tosses the salad
One day whilst walking home from work, Fish-face started to feel horny. Obviously this wasn't an unusual thing to happen to Fish-face as he was an extreme pervert - titillated by pretty much anything. Well, anything to do with homoerotic passion. Or shite.

The seam in the crotch of Fish-face's pants was rubbing against his slimy, meagre cock - making his tongue protrude from his trout-lips with fierce cross-eyed lust. He liked to feel a bit of chafing 'downstairs'. This is why he had applied a mixture of sand and PVA glue to the seam of the underwear to increase the friction. The sand-paper like surface tore into his balls with every stride, increasing Fish-face's lust exponentially.

Spittle began to form on Fish-face's purple lips and he began to mutter obscenities to himself. Before he knew it he was repeating his Fish-face mantra over and over.

"I have trout-lips of a purple hue,
I like to guzzle down man-goo.

My bright pink cheeks and boyish smile,
infer that I'm a paedophile!

My stunted walk and fishy gob,
May make me look a fuckin' nob

But down inside I cannot pass
on a big fat cock right up my ass

I am the scum of the human race,
I am the fucker called 'Fish-face'"

As he said his name he punched the air triumphantly and sniggered to himself.

Then, in the shadows of a derelict shop doorway, Fish-face spied hideous old tramp. His toothless leer and brown-wrinkled visage made his face look like a shrivelled anus. He raised a can of Special Brew in salute to Fish-face and said 'Shhuu wan fak huu fakker?'.

Fish-face was confused by this and leant closer to the foul tramp. "Uhh.. sorry I didn't quite get that" said Fishy, "Could you say it again?".

The tramp threw a filthy arm around fish-face's shoulder and squinted at him. He was obviously having some difficulty in focusing as his eyes kept crossing and uncrossing. The stench of his filthy body rolled up into Fish-face's nostrils.

It was like nothing Fish-face had ever smelt before. It was like a cross between a septic tank, rotting fish and wet dog. Fish-face retched slightly and this seemed to concentrate the tramps' attention sufficiently for him to respond.

"Hyuuu shtoopid fakker" he slurred. "Hyuu can jes suck my arse hyuu fakker!"

"Oooh!" said Fishy. "Tossing the salad eh? I can't say I've tried that before. Why don't we go inside and I'll see what I can do eh?"

With this, Fish-face gestured through the broken shop doorway to the dark, foetid interior. The tramp somehow managed to clamber up Fishy's legs and maintain an upright stance long enough to stagger inside.

Cecil was a Great Dane. If he had been able to understand and respond to language, he may have had something to say to his owner about his frankly ridiculous name. On this particular day, Cecil had broken free from his owner during their daily walk in the park and was prowling around the bad area of town. He had already had his way with all of the stray bitches that he could find but he remained unsatisfied. He trotted on merrily down the street, slavering jaws dripping with saliva and matted curled fur plastered flat against his oily skin.

All of a sudden Cecil saw a dark and dirty shop doorway. The door was shattered and there was a strange sound coming from inside the building. Cecil raised his nose to the air and sniffed the dank vapour into his doggy nostrils.

Sex! Cecil could smell sex and he wanted some. Cautiously he made his way to the doorway and tentatively, he peered inside.

Fish-face was enjoying himself immensely. The horrible tramp was lying face down on the floor of the shop. The place was full of dusty rubble and evidence of desperate human squalor. A filthy mattress lay in one corner; rust-coloured stains adorning it's damp surface and broken bottles and cans littered the area.

As far as Fishy could tell the tramp had passed out as soon as he fell over, but this wasn't going to stop Fishy's fun.
He had pulled down the tramp's sticky trousers and underwear and revealed the bountiful treat inside. A nugget of purest brown had greeted his eyes and the stench was like sweet nectar to Fishy's depraved nostrils.

Moist, matted hair decorated the perimeter of the anus and pimples and boils peeked through the filth like shy faeries from some tainted, magical bush.

Slowly and with his eyes closed, Fish-face lowered his face to the feast. His lips met the tender log protruding from the tramp's rear and he slid them up and down the turd as if lovingly blowing it. Eventually he bit through the fudgy goodness and sucked the dark pleasure into his mouth.

Chewing delicately, he finished the mouthful; swallowing it down with small murmured sounds of pleasure.
Pulling his own trousers down, he began to caress his pathetic morsel of a penis with a clammy hand.

Cecil seized his moment! He sped into the room, his bright red boner already hard and glistening and with another bound he straddled Fish-face's hunched over form. Cecil penetrated Fish-face's anus with one un-lubed stroke and began to vigorously bugger him, panting dementedly and frothing at the mouth.

Fish-face shrilled with pleasure and began to buck furiously against the dog-cock shoved inside his butt. He barely even realised what was happening to him, but couldn't believe how great it felt.

Eventually the beast shuddered, howled and gave one final extra-hard thrust. Fish-face felt his intestines fill with a hot liquid and a satisfied smile crept across his face.

After lying there for what seemed like hours, basking in the post-coital afterglow, Fish-face tried to pull away from Cecil. Somehow the beast was wedged firmly inside his butt and try as he might he could not dislodge himself. Making some pathetic mewling sounds and scrabbling pathetically at the tramp's soiled trousers, Fish-face managed to turn and take in the scene.

Cecil was slumped on top of him, eyes glazed and with his tongue protruding from his mouth. A sliver of panic whipped through Fishy as he realized that the dog was stone-cold. It was dead. Fish-face struggled frantically against the canine appendage inside his tailpipe to no avail. Eventually he collapsed sobbing into the unconscious tramp's slimy crevice.

Crying softly to himself, Fish-face scanned the room for a suitable object with which to free himself. He tried again to push himself from the floor and felt a sharp pain in his hand followed by a slippery, bleeding sensation. He had cut himself on a razor-sharp piece of broken glass lying beneath him amongst the general detritus. With a demented cackle, Fish-face clasped the shard of glass tightly in his feminine fingers. Blood ran in hot rivulets between his fingers, dripping to the floor beneath.

Hooting like an aged prostitute faking an orgasm for the ten-thousandth time he slashed at the meaty length attaching him to the dog. Sawing frantically he cut through the stringy tissue severing it in an orgy of splattered blood. With a desperate heave, Fish-face managed to shoulder the hairy corpse from above him and crawl, coughing and shaking from it's slumped form.

The piece of dog cock inside him, deprived of it's internal pressure, deflated somewhat and slithered slickly out of him. It landed wetly on the floor followed by a litre or so of slightly steaming, chocolate tinged dog-spooge.

Tenderly, Fish-face kissed the unconscious tramp goodbye. He slipped his tongue between the tramp's tobacco-stained lips and swirled it around, tasting the powerful flavour of advanced tooth-decay and severe halitosis. He sighed contentedly and stooped to pick up the severed dog's penis. It would come in handy for what he was planning later.

Roughly, he pulled up his trousers, splattering himself with dog spunk in the process. Licking the worst off his hands, he sauntered out of the derelict shop and into the evening air.

As he walked past a nearby church hall, he noticed a poster which read 'Sunday School Nativity Play - 12 December'.
"Suckers!" thought Fish-face to himself as he ambled off into the night, a spring in his step and a dog-cock in his pocket. He was ready to take on the world.
(Tue 31st Mar 2009, 12:50, More)