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The space program needs some lube? I know just the thing. [NSFW}

One word for you... sores

One word for you... lube

Astroglide http://www.astroglide.com/
WD-40 http://www.wd40.com/
Wet http://www.stayswetlonger.com/

What's that, you say? It can detect the court ordered electronic monitoring device attached to my ankle? Shit!

The purpose of said monitoring device to ensure that you don't skip out on bail prior to your hearing. Which would trigger the adverts for this no doubt.

The subliminal association would undoubtedly boost sales.

... Astroglide?

I know that was probably a troll, but you should never use oil based lubricants in combination with latex condoms. Petroleum based lube products will actually break down the latex and defeat the whole purpose of the condom in the first place. Instead you should only use water based, water soluable lubes like Astroglide or K-Y Jelly. Otherwise you may end up getting your partner pregnant or aquiring a shiny new STD.

-kaplanfx

(All information will be used for mailing purposes only and will not be distributed to any outside organizations. Except maybe the paramedics if your free trial gets out of hand.)

of this?

Hey, don't forget that AstroGlide will send you a free sample too!

You are correct that supermarkets are tracking this stuff. My example of embarrassing things at the market with my wife's club card resulted in a free sample in the mail. >;-)

Let's not write off Astro too soon :)

C'mon, you totally forgot chemical engineers: http://www.astroglide.com/

We weren't following any news of the outside world. None of it really affected us, and we were too busy tocare about it anyhow. Officer Anderson told us anything that had to do with prisons or corrections or slavery, that kind of thing, but beyond that we didn't ask a lot of questions. For me, it was good to get away from the Outside. The only Outside thing I cared about was sports. I knew that Officer Anderson would always let me watch his TV if I asked him, but I didn't have much time for it. I was happy just being with my friends and learning all the things I was learning about how Jackman operated and what we were all gonna do in it. It was good to have a job where I could be around Officer Anderson almost all the time. I wasn't like Justin; I didn't want to BE Officer Anderson, but I kept getting more and more attracted to him. It's not that I was losing my attraction for Paco or the other guys, but Officer Anderson had this special thing about him, and it never went away, any more than my attraction to Paco ever went away. Just the way his uniform fell over his pecs and lay there, green and sort of glowing against his abs, and the way it rippled when he moved and stretched, and the way it felt when I opened it to kiss his nipples, and the way he smelled after he showered and shaved and stiffened his hair with that slippery stuff he used, and the sound his boots made when he walked down the hallway to take me out of the cage and into his bedroom, and the way his cock looked under his trousers, like a huge snake moving under the dark green forest ... I liked to watch him and listen to him and touch him and taste him and smell him, and I got to do it all day long. I think I got a little carried away in telling you all that, but the point is, I wasn't exactly following the news of the world. So it came as a surprise when Officer Anderson came to the morning meal and opened a newspaper and pointed to an article that said: "APPEAL DENIED FOR DRUG CONSPIRATORS." "Here," he said. "I think that you'll all be interested in this." So we all stood around the table and read: "Appeals for the four defendants in the Clay County drug conspiracy trial were rejected yesterday by the 3rd Circuit Court of Appeals, and defendants' attorneys indicated that their clients had exhausted all possibilities of further appeals. The decision marks an end to the well-publicized case, which has been bouncing from one court to another throughout the year. Thomas T. Larson, lead defense attorney, held a press conference late Monday and announced, 'Sadly, it appears that we have reached the end of the line. The lower court is now free to impose final sentence.' "The case involves four socially prominent young men, convicted of cultivation of illegal drugs, sale of illegal drugs, and conspiracy to sell illegal drugs. Under provisions of the Uniform Sentencing Act and the Personal Responsibility Youth Acts, the four--Mark Etherege, 23, Peter French, 24, Steven Bentley, 22, and Troy Hudson, 21--are expected to receive enslavement for life." "God Almighty!" David said. "I can't believe it!" "Oh man!" Paco said. "They've got em! I used to wonder what Mr. French was doin with all that weed he had in his field!" "Mark Etherege!" Justin exclaimed. "The Prom King!" I'd never seen him so excited. "And this Steven guy ... he must be the one, you know, the guy that ... the guy that was there when you ... when they did those things to you, David! And he's the son of a bitch that used to work the auctions here, the one that ... Hey! Is he really 'socially prominent'?" "No, 88," Officer Anderson said, sort of chuckling at him. "That's just the newspaper. Newspapers never really say the truth, even about something as simple as that. It's the other three of these convicts that are socially prominent." "Convicts"! Troy was now a convict! "I can't believe it!" David repeated. "It doesn't seem possible!" Then something else occurred to him. "They're comin to Jackman, man! They're all comin to Jackman!" David and Justin were hugging each other and jumping up and down. Paco and I looked at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking. All I could think was, "Troy is a convict! Troy is a convict!" Then Paco smiled and turned to Officer Anderson. "Sir," he said, "I hope you don't mind me asking you ... how long have you followed this case, Sir?" "No, 85, I don't mind your asking. And I'll give you an answer. I've been following it since before it started." "Sir?" "Not so mysterious. You'll notice the time indication in the article: 'throughout the year.' The investigation started soon after you returned from your work at French's farm, where, as I recall, you noticed certain indications of illegal conduct." "Sir Yes Sir!" "I would not have been concerned with these ... indications if I had not been so interested in their peculiar context, as reported by you. Of course, I had already received reports from 88 and 89 about the other young ... gentlemen. By that time, Mr. Bentley had left his job with our auctioneer, presumably to follow a more remunerative occupation. But there was no trouble tracking him down. As 88 pointed out, he wasn't socially prominent, but his business associates were, and it wasn't difficult to find out what they were doing. I didn't need to bring up any of the things they were really doing, despite the fact that it was those things that interested me the most, personally. I am thinking about their sexual and personal betrayals. I believe that those patterns of action had begun quite a while before. Am I right, 86?" "Sir Yes Sir!" I said. I was standing on the street, on that night three years before. Troy was persuading me to get into that car. It was only a moment ago, that moment when I thought I was free .... Had I told Officer Anderson about that moment? Suddenly I couldn't remember ... Because I was thinking about that night, and thinking about Troy ... "You may think," Officer Anderson continued, "that your friend Troy Hudson has been convicted of a number of inconsequential drug violations. But that is only superficially true. His real offense was betraying a friend. That is not how the charges read, but that is WHY he was found and charged and convicted." He laid his hand on my shoulder. "I want you to know that, 86." He stopped to let me catch up to what he was saying. Then he went on. "There's something even more interesting, though. The effect of his betrayal was to bring you here, where you belong." "Sir Yes Sir!" I said. Yes, I thought, that's the interesting thing. So interesting, and so strange. Maybe Troy didn't want to destroy my life. Maybe he was just using me, using me as a sidekick, a servant, a ride to a party, an escape from the cops, and then something to laugh at and make jokes about. Or maybe he did want to destroy me, destroy the person I was. Well, that person was gone, if he ever existed in the first place. "Jeremy Morgan." Even the name sounded strange. I'm not sure I ever liked that person. Maybe I didn't like him any better than Troy did. I was sure I didn't miss him anymore.... I was doing what I usually do when I think. I had my arms folded across my chest, and I was looking down at my chest and arms. They were covered with stripes. White stripes. Black stripes. Black and white convict stripes. Across my chest was a set of black numbers: 10586. Underneath it, I knew, was the same set of numbers, tattooed across my skin: 10586. 10586: that was me. But just mention the name Troy Hudson, and I had to remind myself of who I was. And now Troy Hudson was coming to Jackman. It was impossible. But it was true. I looked up. All the others were watching me. Paco was looking thoughtful and worried. Justin and David were looking like wolves that just turned up a herd of deer. Their eyes were glistening; their lips were wet; they were sweating with pleasure. You could see they were thinking about everything that remained to be avenged. Mark's betrayal and enslavement of Justin. Mark's, Steve's, and Troy's rape of David. Troy's betrayal of me. Peter and Troy's betrayal of Paco and Aaron. Peter's torture of Paco and Aaron. Steve's humiliation of all of us. Now it was time for revenge. The only question was, why wasn't Jeremy rejoicing? That's what their eyes were asking me. "All right, form up!" Officer Anderson ordered. So we stood at Attention. "Now listen. You too, 86. You've all got a job to do. These four offenders will be sentenced today. They should arrive at Jackman sometime this afternoon. I've dispatched a special van for their last ride--I don't want people that important to have to wait. I'll be notified in advance of their anticipated time of arrival. You four are the welcoming committee. Work out the arrangements for yourselves. 88 will be in charge." "Sir Yes Sir!" Justin said. He was like a kid at his own birthday party. Then Officer Anderson turned to me. "This is your chance, 86," he said. "You're coming full circle." "Sir?" I said. "You'll know what I mean," he said. What could I say? "Sir Yes Sir!" "And don't look so sad, 86. I want you to enjoy this." "Sir Yes Sir!" It was the first time I'd ever been ordered to enjoy something. But I wasn't sure that I could. Officer Anderson went into his office, and the four of us sat down and started making plans. There wasn't a lot to plan, really. It was all pretty obvious, once you thought about it. The only thing that wasn't obvious was how you looked at it. While the other guys talked, my mind kept wandering. I thought about Troy and me when we were in junior high school. I was a skinny little kid. We were both that way, but I was skinnier. Anyway, there was a kid in our class that was twice my size. That's the way it seemed, anyhow, and he liked to pick on me. One time he tripped me, and I fell halfway down a flight of stairs. He stood at the top of the stairs laughing at me. So I got up and ran after him. He was so surprised that he ran away. I never caught him, and I don't know what I would have done if I had. Probably he would have beat my ass. Anyway, I went over to Troy's place after school that day, and I told him what happened. He looked bored. "So what?" he said. "Who cares? Even if you'd caught him and hit him or something, it wouldn't mean that he didn't knock you down the stairs." I thought about that for a minute. Then I said, "But things like that aren't supposed to happen. When they happen, you're supposed to do something." "Who says?" he asked. I thought about that, too. Then I answered, "I guess that I say." "But you're not gonna DO anything, are you, fishbait?" He used to call me "fishbait." He got that from a movie we saw once. "Well, are you? Are you?" "No," I said, "I guess I'm not." And that was the end of it. I hadn't thought about it since it happened. Now I thought about it, and this strange, excited feeling came up inside me. The other guys had finished their plans, and now they were laughing and making jokes about what was gonna happen later that day. Everyone had something to say about the prisoners that were getting sentenced. They were grinning and looking down at their laps, the way guys do when they're really, really happy. Then Justin started singing that old song he liked: "We are a band of brothers, and native to the soil.... " Good song, but I couldn't listen. That strange feeling was growing inside. It's hard to describe; it was like I wasn't really with them, it was like I was living at some other time, and I wasn't sure what time it was. I looked at Justin. This was the skinny, scared kid, chained up in the prison bus, wearing a nice tie and a belt with a little silver clasp, and his shoes all shined..... Now he was a muscular, self-confident guy, excited and happy, leaning over to kiss his lover David. David was another strong, self-confident guy. He didn't look much like the dopey, privileged young dude who was so surprised when his dick got hard in the Processing line. Then there was Paco. He was the one who seemed to have changed the least. He was still my strong, quiet Paco--but he wasn't a lost, unlucky kid anymore. He was a guy who was used to running things in a big important outfit. They had all stopped to look at me. "C'mon, 86," Justin said. "Get with the program! This is our day to howl!" Lately he'd been calling me 86, the way Officer Anderson did. "But what's the purpose?" I said."What good will it do to whack these guys?" "It's justice, Jeremy," Paco said."That's what we're here for. Justice." "I don't know, Paco," I said."It just feels strange, enjoying a thing like that." Because I was enjoying it. I was definitely enjoying it. I was enjoying it even more than I enjoyed chasing that bully in junior high. Just imagining what was about to happen made me almost as high as Justin was. "You mean," Paco asked, "you shouldn't enjoy doing something that's right?" "No," I said. "I don't mean that." So then I was ready. We had to wait until mid-afternoon before we heard from Officer Anderson that the prison van was on its way, and it was hard to get through that last hour of waiting. We went down to the loading dock about half an hour early. There was another van being unloaded, and that was the typical busload of new fish--scared young guys, fresh out of a county courthouse, trussed up in irons and reeling from the judge's voice sentencing them to life as convict slaves. As usual, a lot of these guys that thought they were so tough a few hours before had tears running down their faces, and most of them looked like they were about to puke. When the Officers started putting them through their paces, though, they stepped out of their clothes pretty lively, and within a few minutes they were lined up naked, ready to be marched inside and put on the chain. It was then that Paco stepped up to the Officer in charge and told him that Officer Anderson had scheduled another delivery for the afternoon. "Shit, 85!" the Officer said. "I'll never get home today!" So Paco made himself a hero by telling him that Officer Anderson had ordered us four to take over the last processing of the day, and if he and the other Officers would please just take the latest arrivals inside and clamp them onto the chain, we would take it from there. The Officer sort of half-saluted, the way they'd started to do with us, and soon they were marching the new fish through the big steel door. We were left alone on the loading dock. It had rained that afternoon, and looking out through the steel mesh gates we could see the bright green lawn and the fields beyond still glazed with water, and a ray of sunlight coming out of the clouds in the western sky. "It's a great day to be alive, isn't it?" David said. "Trite but true," Justin answered, and gave him a kiss. Then we saw the white van coming down the drive. The gate rolled up; the van pulled in; the driver hopped out of the cab, gave us that half-salute, and went back to roll the little ramp down from the door. This was it. It was time. My heart was jumping. I had never been so nervous and excited, even on the day when I was the one inside that van. We heard the usual shouts and curses and scuffling sounds that meant that the Officers were rousting the convicts out of their cages, cuffing them, and marching them down the little corridor. There was the sound of feet rumbling along the floor. Then a body fell out the back, onto the pavement. It lay there like a beached animal, trying to figure out how to get up, now that its legs were shackled securely together and its hands were cuffed securely behind its back. One of the Officers climbed down from the door and looked at the body. "Fucker didn't even hit the fuckin ramp!" he said. "Git up, you stupid FUCKER!" He pulled the body up by its hair, then he kicked it in the ass and it hurtled passed us. It was the first of the four new fish, and it was not a pretty sight. We saw a fat, sweaty young man, with a stream of blood and snot running out of his nose. "Peter French," Paco said. So this was the guy that had owned Paco, the guy that had tortured Paco. The guy heard his name, so he looked in that direction, the way people do when they hear something different and they think things may change. I knew from experience that there'd been no use of names since he'd heard that judge say, "Peter French, I sentence you to penal servitude for the rest of your natural life." He looked at Paco; then his face turned white. "I want you to stand over THERE!" the Officer yelled, kicking him on the rump again. "By the LEFT SIDE of the VAN! Move it, fat boy!" French stood by the left side of the van. He was staring at Paco, and his legs were shaking. Then there were some more curses and another rumble of feet in the van, and the next convict popped out of the back. This one managed to find the ramp. He was tall and handsome, with dark hair swept back from his forehead, still nicely combed and gelled. He was wearing a dark suit and a dark tie and a white, white shirt, and he was coming out of the van with as much dignity as a guy can have when his limbs are locked in a set of steel restraints. His eyes roamed swiftly around the dock. Then they found Justin, and he staggered backward. I looked sideways. Justin was smiling and licking his lips. "Mark Etherege," he said. "Get your ASS in the fuckin LINE!" the Officer screamed, and his boot landed on another butt. The third convict out the door was a man that all of us recognized, although at first, I don't think he recognized any of us, because he'd fucked with so many guys in his time. It was Steven Bentley, the auction boy. The spikey hair, the earring, the crooked little automatic grin--Steve still had all the equipment. He had too much style to wear a coat and tie, even to plead for mercy in the courtroom. Instead, he was wearing khakis and an open shirt, and a pair of alligator boots. It'll be real nice, I thought, to see those boots come off. But first there was something that Paco wanted to do, in honor of what Steve had done to me when I met him for the first time, in conditions not much different from these. Steve had gotten to "the fuckin LINE" without being kicked or paddled or dragged by his hair; and he was standing there with that look that means, "so far, so good." Then Paco walked up to him and yanked down his zipper. Steve's eyes got wide, and before he knew what he was doing he shouted "hey, dude! watch it", like he could still do something to back it up, standing with his hands locked behind his back in a prison loading dock. Paco took a minute to smile at him; then he reached in and dragged out his dick. It was hanging down, limp as a fish, and its owner was gazing down at it with a hopeless expression on his face. No threats. No jokes. No cocky smile. "That's how convicts should be seen in public--ain't it, Steven?" Paco said. "At least that's what you taught my boyfriend. Remember him? He's the guy right over there. I don't think you remember so good. So I'm just gonna let this thing hang out for a while. You can go back and find your happy memories, and the rest of us can admire your manhood--convict." The rest of us snickered and pointed, and a deep red stain spread across Steve's face. It was a beautiful color. Even Mark Etherege looked down and started to snicker--until he remembered where he was. Then he didn't look so happy. Finally the fourth fish came out of the van. It was Troy Hudson. The last time Justin saw Troy, it was through the bars of a cage. Justin was on the inside, and Troy was on the outside, making him suck his dick. The last time David saw Troy, David was chained on his back in Troy's apartment, and Troy was making him lick his ass. The last time Paco saw Troy, Paco was on his knees in front of Peter French's slave shed, sucking Troy's dick while Troy smacked him and strangled him. The last time I saw Troy, I was crawling on my hands and knees in the parking lot of a roadside rest stop, grabbing for my convict cap while an Officer paddled my butt and Troy sat in his sportscar, laughing. But when was the first time I saw Troy Hudson? I couldn't remember. I didn't know. Troy had always been there. Troy at the drive-in after the game. Troy in the weight room, spotting me. Troy at my fifteenth birthday party, the only guy that wasn't an absolute geek. And now it was Troy bending his head at the door and lumbering down the ramp of a prison van. He was in chains like the others, and he was shuffling like a convict, but he still looked like my friend, Troy Hudson. He looked better. His hair was longer than I'd ever seen it, his tan was deeper, his muscles were heavier. He's grown up, I thought. Now he's ripe for prison. I thought that, and I wondered if it made any sense; and then I knew that my heart was beating too fast for me to think. I forgot about the cuffs and the chains and the convict shamble. All I could see was the blue eyes and the diamond glinting from the ear. All I could see was the yellow tie and the deep blue shirt. He'd always liked that shade. "Lake blue," he'd tell the sales clerk, and he'd be pissed if the store didn't have it. He was right--it was the perfect color for him. The blue shirt rippled down from his pecs like a soft cold stream, and his tie flowed with it like a vein of gold. He shuffled slowly forward, looking down at his feet. He didn't want to miss the end of the ramp. Then he was on the concrete, walking toward me. He didn't need to look at his feet anymore--so he looked up. And when he looked up, he saw me. I don't know what he was expecting when he got to Jackman. I wonder if he was expecting me. Maybe he wasn't thinking about me at all! When he looked at me, it was like a movie running backwards. I could see him not remembering, starting to remember, then going further and further back into the past, remembering more and more.... And finally he got to Jeremy Morgan. Only what he saw in front of him wasn't Jeremy Morgan, it was a black and white striped convict with 10586 stamped on its chest. His feet stopped. His eyes widened. His mouth came open. It was like he was pondering a mystery. Then he lurched forward. There was somebody paddling his butt. "Don't STAND there, ASSHOLE! Git your fuckin BUTT in gear and line up with the other FISH!" The Officer knew what he was doing. There were never any unnecessary delays in unloading the van. Troy Hudson moved his fuckin butt. He lined up with the other fish. "We'll take it from here, Officer," Justin said. The Officer handed him the transfer files, asked him to sign for the four new fish, and exited through the Officer's door of the dock. He was on his way home, and he was walking fast. Now it was just the four of Us. Facing the four of Them.

We put Tux on the table, belly down. That probably wasn't so smart, but we figured if he tried to slide, we could just beat him over the head with the dildo. He was already beaten up pretty badly, but my buddy and I enjoyed the fight he put up. We weren't quite sure where to begin at first; it'd be a shame if the party was over too quick. We figured a bit of fondling was in order, you know, to get us worked up and get Tux's juices flowing. As I "grepped" his buttocks and groin, my friend caressed his face with the long, pink dildo. The penguin let out a few cries of discomfort, wanting obvioulsy to be set free. He knew what was in store for him. But at the moment of one of his bellows, my friend was able to stick the dildo in his beak! Tux was enraged and he began to twist and spasm, trying to get out of our grip. "Seems the little fucker's got his strength back!" To solve the problem, I hit him over the head a few times. Not too hard, of course. We wanted him to be conscious so he could enjoy the eXPerience to the max. Not wanting to risk the same thing with his own cock, my friend thrust and withdrew the dildo from Tux's mouth slowly. "If only we could get rid of that beak," he says. I thought it was an interesting idea, something to consider later.

I however, was about to start my own fun. Working up my penis to a nice, firm erection with some AstroGlide (which I had first learned about on that Linux/cyberterrorism web site "slashdot"), I slowly guided into the penguin's tight ass. Tux, still slightly conscious, let out a few half-hearted screams of pain, and twitched slightly. Once my penis was all the way inserted, I got up on Tux's back and grabbed his chest firmly. Without much ceremony, I began to bang the creature hard, like he was a Salvation Army drum. He appearantly loved it... or hated it. I couldn't tell. All I know is that the more he screamed, the harder I fucked. It didn't take me long to reach climax! I exploded deep in his ass with a gigantic load. The pressure was too much at this point and all around my penis, there was a gushing of cum, blood, and feces that flowed like a waterfall onto the floor. Tux was unconscious by this time, so were free to do whatever we wanted.

And that's when it really got crazy!

We put Tux on the table, belly down. That probably wasn't so smart, but we figured if he tried to slide, we could just beat him over the head with the dildo. He was already beaten up pretty badly, but my buddy and I enjoyed the fight he put up. We weren't quite sure where to begin at first; it'd be a shame if the party was over too quick. We figured a bit of fondling was in order, you know, to get us worked up and get Tux's juices flowing. As I "grepped" his buttocks and groin, my friend caressed his face with the long, pink dildo. The penguin let out a few cries of discomfort, wanting obvioulsy to be set free. He knew what was in store for him. But at the moment of one of his bellows, my friend was able to stick the dildo in his beak! Tux was enraged and he began to twist and spasm, trying to get out of our grip. "Seems the little fucker's got his strength back!" To solve the problem, I hit him over the head a few times. Not too hard, of course. We wanted him to be conscious so he could enjoy the eXPerience to the max. Not wanting to risk the same thing with his own cock, my friend thrust and withdrew the dildo from Tux's mouth slowly. "If only we could get rid of that beak," he says. I thought it was an interesting idea, something to consider later.

I however, was about to start my own fun. Working up my penis to a nice, firm erection with some AstroGlide (which I had first learned about on that Linux/cyberterrorism web site "slashdot"), I slowly guided into the penguin's tight ass. Tux, still slightly conscious, let out a few half-hearted screams of pain, and twitched slightly. Once my penis was all the way inserted, I got up on Tux's back and grabbed his chest firmly. Without much ceremony, I began to bang the creature hard, like he was a Salvation Army drum. He appearantly loved it... or hated it. I couldn't tell. All I know is that the more he screamed, the harder I fucked. It didn't take me long to reach climax! I exploded deep in his ass with a gigantic load. The pressure was too much at this point and all around my penis, there was a gushing of cum, blood, and feces that flowed like a waterfall onto the floor. Tux was unconscious by this time, so were free to do whatever we wanted.

And that's when it really got crazy!

We put Tux on the table, belly down. That probably wasn't so smart, but we figured if he tried to slide, we could just beat him over the head with the dildo. He was already beaten up pretty badly, but my buddy and I enjoyed the fight he put up. We weren't quite sure where to begin at first; it'd be a shame if the party was over too quick. We figured a bit of fondling was in order, you know, to get us worked up and get Tux's juices flowing. As I "grepped" his buttocks and groin, my friend caressed his face with the long, pink dildo. The penguin let out a few cries of discomfort, wanting obvioulsy to be set free. He knew what was in store for him. But at the moment of one of his bellows, my friend was able to stick the dildo in his beak! Tux was enraged and he began to twist and spasm, trying to get out of our grip. "Seems the little fucker's got his strength back!" To solve the problem, I hit him over the head a few times. Not too hard, of course. We wanted him to be conscious so he could enjoy the eXPerience to the max. Not wanting to risk the same thing with his own cock, my friend thrust and withdrew the dildo from Tux's mouth slowly. "If only we could get rid of that beak," he says. I thought it was an interesting idea, something to consider later.

I however, was about to start my own fun. Working up my penis to a nice, firm erection with some AstroGlide (which I had first learned about on that Linux/cyberterrorism web site "slashdot"), I slowly guided into the penguin's tight ass. Tux, still slightly conscious, let out a few half-hearted screams of pain, and twitched slightly. Once my penis was all the way inserted, I got up on Tux's back and grabbed his chest firmly. Without much ceremony, I began to bang the creature hard, like he was a Salvation Army drum. He appearantly loved it... or hated it. I couldn't tell. All I know is that the more he screamed, the harder I fucked. It didn't take me long to reach climax! I exploded deep in his ass with a gigantic load. The pressure was too much at this point and all around my penis, there was a gushing of cum, blood, and feces that flowed like a waterfall onto the floor. Tux was unconscious by this time, so were free to do whatever we wanted.

And that's when it really got crazy!

We put Tux on the table, belly down. That probably wasn't so smart, but we figured if he tried to slide, we could just beat him over the head with the dildo. He was already beaten up pretty badly, but my buddy and I enjoyed the fight he put up. We weren't quite sure where to begin at first; it'd be a shame if the party was over too quick. We figured a bit of fondling was in order, you know, to get us worked up and get Tux's juices flowing. As I "grepped" his buttocks and groin, my friend caressed his face with the long, pink dildo. The penguin let out a few cries of discomfort, wanting obvioulsy to be set free. He knew what was in store for him. But at the moment of one of his bellows, my friend was able to stick the dildo in his beak! Tux was enraged and he began to twist and spasm, trying to get out of our grip. "Seems the little fucker's got his strength back!" To solve the problem, I hit him over the head a few times. Not too hard, of course. We wanted him to be conscious so he could enjoy the eXPerience to the max. Not wanting to risk the same thing with his own cock, my friend thrust and withdrew the dildo from Tux's mouth slowly. "If only we could get rid of that beak," he says. I thought it was an interesting idea, something to consider later.

I however, was about to start my own fun. Working up my penis to a nice, firm erection with some AstroGlide (which I had first learned about on that Linux/cyberterrorism web site "slashdot"), I slowly guided into the penguin's tight ass. Tux, still slightly conscious, let out a few half-hearted screams of pain, and twitched slightly. Once my penis was all the way inserted, I got up on Tux's back and grabbed his chest firmly. Without much ceremony, I began to bang the creature hard, like he was a Salvation Army drum. He appearantly loved it... or hated it. I couldn't tell. All I know is that the more he screamed, the harder I fucked. It didn't take me long to reach climax! I exploded deep in his ass with a gigantic load. The pressure was too much at this point and all around my penis, there was a gushing of cum, blood, and feces that flowed like a waterfall onto the floor. Tux was unconscious by this time, so were free to do whatever we wanted.

And that's when it really got crazy!

We put Tux on the table, belly down. That probably wasn't so smart, but we figured if he tried to slide, we could just beat him ov er the head with the dildo. He was already beaten up pretty badly, but my buddy and I enjoyed the fight he put up. We weren't qui te sure where to begin at first; it'd be a shame if the party was over too quick. We figured a bit of fondling was in order, you k now, to get us worked up and get Tux's juices flowing. As I "grepped" his buttocks and groin, my friend caressed his face with the long, pink dildo. The penguin let out a few cries of discomfort, wanting obvioulsy to be set free. He knew what was in store for him. But at the moment of one of his bellows, my friend was able to stick the dildo in his beak! Tux was enraged and he began to twist and spasm, trying to get out of our grip. "Seems the little fucker's got his strength back!" To solve the problem, I hit h im over the head a few times. Not too hard, of course. We wanted him to be conscious so he could enjoy the eXPerience to the max. Not wanting to risk the same thing with his own cock, my friend thrust and withdrew the dildo from Tux's mouth slowly. "If only we could get rid of that beak," he says. I thought it was an interesting idea, something to consider later.

I however, was about to start my own fun. Working up my penis to a nice, firm erection with some AstroGlide (which I had first learned about on that Linux/cyberterrorism web site "slashdot"), I slowly guided into the penguin's tight ass. Tux, still slightly conscious, let out a few half-hearted screams of pain, and twitched sligh tly. Once my penis was all the way inserted, I got up on Tux's back and grabbed his chest firmly. Without much ceremony, I began to bang the creature hard, like he was a Salvation Army drum. He appearantly loved it... or hated it. I couldn't tell. All I kno w is that the more he screamed, the harder I fucked. It didn't take me long to reach climax! I exploded deep in his ass with a gi gantic load. The pressure was too much at this point and all around my penis, there was a gushing of cum, blood, and feces that fl owed like a waterfall onto the floor. Tux was unconscious by this time, so were free to do whatever we wanted.

And that's when it really got crazy!

Stay tuned next week for PART TWO!!

We put Tux on the table, belly down. That probably wasn't so smart, but we figured if he tried to sl ide, we could just beat him over the head with the dildo. He was already beaten up pretty badly, but my buddy and I enjoyed the fight he put up. We weren't quite sure where to begin at first; it'd be a shame if the party was over too quick. We figured a bit of fondling was in order, you know, to get us worked up and get Tux's juices flowing. As I "grepped" his buttocks and groin, my friend caresse d his face with the long, pink dildo. The penguin let out a few cries of discomfort, wanting obvioul sy to be set free. He knew what was in store for him. But at the moment of one of his bellows, my f riend was able to stick the dildo in his beak! Tux was enraged and he began to twist and spasm, tryi ng to get out of our grip. "Seems the little fucker's got his strength back!" To solve the problem, I hit him over the head a few times. Not too hard, of course. We wanted him to be conscious so he could enjoy the eXPerience to the max. Not wanting to risk the same thing with his own cock, my frie nd thrust and withdrew the dildo from Tux's mouth slowly. "If only we could get rid of that beak," h e says. I thought it was an interesting idea, something to consider later.

I however, was about to start my own fun. Working up my penis to a nice, firm erection with some AstroGlide (which I had first learned about on that Linux/cyberterrorism web site "slashdot"), I slowly guided into the penguin's tight ass. Tux , still slightly conscious, let out a few half-hearted screams of pain, and twitched slightly. Once my penis was all the way inserted, I got up on Tux's back and grabbed his chest firmly. Without much ceremony, I began to bang the creature hard, like he was a Salvation Army drum. He appearantly love d it... or hated it. I couldn't tell. All I know is that the more he screamed, the harder I fucked. It didn't take me long to reach climax! I exploded deep in his ass with a gigantic load. The pres sure was too much at this point and all around my penis, there was a gushing of cum, blood, and feces that flowed like a waterfall onto the floor. Tux was unconscious by this time, so were free to do w hatever we wanted.

And that's when it really got crazy!

We put Tux on the table, belly down. That probably wasn't so smart, but we figured if he tried to slide, we could just beat him over the head with the dildo. He was already beaten up pretty badly, but my buddy and I enjoyed the fight he put up. We weren't quite sure where to begin at first; it'd be a shame if the party was over too quick. We figured a bit of fondling was in order, you know, to get us worked up and get Tux's juices flowing. As I "grepped" his buttocks and groin, my friend caressed his face with the long, pink dildo. The penguin let out a few cries of discomfort, wanting obvioulsy to be set free. He knew what was in store for him. But at the moment of one of his bellows, my friend was able to stick the dildo in his beak! Tux was enraged and he began to twist and spasm, trying to get out of our grip. "Seems the little fucker's got his strength back!" To solve the problem, I hit him over the head a few times. Not too hard, of course. We wanted him to be conscious so he could enjoy the eXPerience to the max. Not wanting to risk the same thing with his own cock, my friend thrust and withdrew the dildo from Tux's mouth slowly. "If only we could get rid of that beak," he says. I thought it was an interesting idea, something to consider later.

I however, was about to start my own fun. Working up my penis to a nice, firm erection with some AstroGlide (which I had first learned about on that Linux/cyberterrorism web site "slashdot"), I slowly guided into the penguin's tight ass. Tux, still slightly conscious, let out a few half-hearted screams of pain, and twitched slightly. Once my penis was all the way inserted, I got up on Tux's back and grabbed his chest firmly. Without much ceremony, I began to bang the creature hard, like he was a Salvation Army drum. He appearantly loved it... or hated it. I couldn't tell. All I know is that the more he screamed, the harder I fucked. It didn't take me long to reach climax! I exploded deep in his ass with a gigantic load. The pressure was too much at this point and all around my penis, there was a gushing of cum, blood, and feces that flowed like a waterfall onto the floor. Tux was unconscious by this time, so were free to do whatever we wanted.

And that's when it really got crazy!

A good lubricant? :)
Why not order a free sample just in case?

A good lubricant? :)
Why not order a free sample just in case?

Integral component of this stuff?

(obligatory free sample link)

Integral component of this stuff?

(obligatory free sample link)

They also field-tested this at Mardi Gras this year in New Orleans. Unfortunately, the crowds mistook it for a personal lubricant and 47 people ended up hospitalized for exhaustion.