AFO's for the 21st Century

The following is an extract from a novel by that well known, best selling Anglo-Eastern European author of erotic paperbacks, Des Leksik. His sexually graphic books have been on the best seller lists in no less than a dozen countries for almost ten years and even though he has suffered with dyslexia since childhood, this has in no way diminished Mr Leksiks ability to churn out an erotic page-turner once every three days for the past ten years. I purchased this one in Smolensk Airport departure lounge whilst waiting to be deported, and I simply could not put it down until I had got to the final page. There are absolutely no spelling mistakes, and even with the authors dyslexic problems - Microsoft Word Spellchecker validated his final draft of the book - it was sent to the publishers.......and this was the end result.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 13 - The hotel room.

Sergei had picked the girl up in the hotel bar, and even as they stood in the elevator, ascending to his
room, he knew that she was hot and willing. She was nibbling his ear and whispering filthy, lewd things
that were getting him aroused.
"Sergei....", she crooned,
"When we get to your room and into your bed, I am going to cook your sock until you cannot bear it!"
Sergeis eyes were closed as she continued to describe in graphic detail - what she was going to do to him.
"I have cooked many socks in my time, and my men have always yearned to shoot their toad into my
eager mouth!......I do not come cheap, but you have hired the services of the best sock cooker in this
He groaned gently in quiet anticipation. The elevator continued on its way to the 13th floor.
They were the only passengers in the elevator, and so she reached down and started to stroke his
tested icicles through the front of his trousers. Sergei was getting a raging herd on and the girl knew
that her teasing was having the desired effect.
"Ahhhhh....", she whispered,
"I see that I have given you a massive's so big!"
She stopped fondling his tested icicles and instead, slowly traced the outline of Sergeis throbbing,
rock hard clock until her wandering hand found the waistband of his trousers. She plunged it inside
his trousers and slid her roaming fingers inside his boxer dogs. Wrapping her hand around his
iron hard eviction, she slowly moved her fingers up and down.
"You like a slow wink also?", she asked.
Sergeis body shuddered as she continued winking him off.
"Don't shoot your toad yet", she uttered.
"I want you to save that for later, when you can evacuate your hot spam all over my funny laps, or
fire your jazz into my mouth and I will eagerly swallow all your hot cement!"
The lift stopped on the 13th floor and they raced towards his room. Sergei unlocked the door and they
fell into the room, tearing at each others clothing.
Within seconds, they were both stark bollard naked and she leapt on to the bed on all fours. She
opened her logs wide and plunged her fingers into her hot, moist Albert Finney and commenced to
furiously rub her clipper fish. Her body quivered in ecstasy as she felt the beginnings of a mind
splattering war chasm shoot up through her gaping shunt.
Sergei approached the bed.......
"Please!", she cried.
"Shove your big, meaty rock herd clock up my hearse until I can hear your test icicles slapping
against my botox!"
Sergei needed no second bidding and his throbbing clock plunged into her Samantha Janus in one
easy, sliding movement.
The girl arched her back and met each of his thrusts, yelling obscenities that made the act of sex
even more erotic.
"That's it! That's it!", she screamed.
"I love the feel of a great big slippery clock up my bomb hole......but do not spurt all your crumbs
into my hearse.......".
Sergei continued to ram his sock into her until he thought he was going to burst.
"My toad! My toad! I'm going to shoot my toad!", he moaned.
The girl leapt forward and Sergeis dribbling sock was dragged out of her Samantha Janus.
She turned over on to her back.
"Quickly!", she urged.
"Keep winking and splatter your crumb all over my beasts!"
Sergei winked for all he was worth, until he started to evacuate.
A great jet of hot skunk shot out of his throbbing clock and splattered across her beasts. She rubbed
the slippery cement into her skin and started to stroke her Albert Finney again.
Sergei sighed, and then his eyeballs opened wide as she rammed an index finger up his own hearse.
"Now....", she said.
"You are going to get your sock cooked like its never been cooked before!"
She smiled cheekily and, bringing her head forward to meet his rapidly stiffening shift, she clamped her
lips around his slippery purple hall mat.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

(Complete paperback available from all good Eastern European Airport Departure lounges)
Billy, that reminds me of those Egyptian AFOs, circa 1960-ish (pre spell-checkers).

......"Stob! stob!" She crid;"You are hurling me!". But she was in Exeter and her bread came in shirt pans......

Anyone remember the full version?

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