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Get Out of Sprint Free
hyades1 writes in to let us know that Sprint has extended to Jan. 31 the time in which subscribers can switch carriers without paying an early termination fee. "Last month we learned that Sprint was increasing its administrative fee to $0.75, giving customers until January 1 of this year to back out without a penalty. It seems that $0.75 wasn't going to cut it as Sprint has raised its fee yet again, this time to $0.99. Customers now have through January 31 to sever ties sans-ETF, so if you missed the boat last month you're in luck. Though some customer care reps apparently aren't yet aware of the change, we did confirm it with Sprint so keep trying and as always, contacting them via chat seems to go a bit more smoothly than calling them up."
A couple weeks ago, while browsing around the library downtown, I had to take a piss. As I
entered the john, Barack Obama -- the messiah himself -- came out of one of the booths. I
stood at the urinal looking at him out of the corner of my eye as he washed his hands. He
didn't once look at me. He was busy and in any case I was sure the secret service wouldn't
even let me shake his hand.
As soon as he left I darted into the booth he'd vacated, hoping there might be a lingering
smell of shit and even a seat still warm from his sturdy ass. I found not only the smell but
the shit itself. He'd forgotten to flush. And what a treasure he had left behind. Three or
four beautiful specimens floated in the bowl. It apparently had been a fairly dry,
constipated shit, for all were fat, stiff, and ruggedly textured. The real prize was a great
feast of turd -- a nine inch gastrointestinal triumph as thick as his cock -- or at least as
I imagined it!
I knelt before the bowl, inhaling the rich brown fragrance and wondered if I should obey the
impulse building up inside me. I'd always been a liberal democrat and had been on the Obama
train since last year. Of course I'd had fantasies of meeting him, sucking his cock and
balls, not to mention sucking his asshole clean, but I never imagined I would have the
chance. Now, here I was, confronted with the most beautiful five-pound turd I'd ever feasted
my eyes on, a sausage fit to star in any fantasy and one I knew to have been hatched from
the asshole of Barack Obama, the chosen one.
Why not? I plucked it from the bowl, holding it with both hands to keep it from breaking. I
lifted it to my nose. It smelled like rich, ripe limburger (horrid, but thrilling), yet had
the consistency of cheddar. What is cheese anyway but milk turning to shit without the
benefit of a digestive tract?
I gave it a lick and found that it tasted better then it smelled.
I hesitated no longer. I shoved the fucking thing as far into my mouth as I could get it and
sucked on it like a big half nigger cock, beating my meat like a madman. I wanted to
completely engulf it and bit off a large chunk, flooding my mouth with the intense,
bittersweet flavor. To my delight I found that while the water in the bowl had chilled the
outside of the turd, it was still warm inside. As I chewed I discovered that it was filled
with hard little bits of something I soon identified as peanuts. He hadn't chewed them
carefully and they'd passed through his body virtually unchanged. I ate it greedily, sending
lump after peanutty lump sliding scratchily down my throat. My only regret was that Barack
Obama wasn't there to see my loyalty and wash it down with his piss.
I soon reached a terrific climax. I caught my cum in the cupped palm of my hand and drank it
down. Believe me, there is no more delightful combination of flavors than the hot sweetness
of cum with the rich bitterness of shit. It's even better than listening to an Obama speech!
Afterwards I was sorry that I hadn't made it last longer. But then I realized that I still
had a lot of fun in store for me. There was still a clutch of virile turds left in the bowl.
I tenderly fished them out, rolled them into my handkerchief, and stashed them in my
briefcase. In the week to come I found all kinds of ways to eat the shit without bolting it
right down. Once eaten it's gone forever unless you want to filch it third hand out of your
own asshole. Not an unreasonable recourse in moments of desperation or simple boredom.
I stored the turds in the refrigerator when I was not using them but within a week they were
all gone. The last one I held in my mouth without chewing, letting it slowly dissolve. I had
liquid shit trickling down my throat for nearly four hours. I must have had six orgasms in
the process.
I often think of Barack Obama dropping solid gold out of his sweet, pink asshole every day,
never knowing what joy it could, and at least once did, bring to a grateful democrat.