Archive name: Hairy Peeter and the Philosopher's Bone - Chapter 1.txt Authors name: SensualKink (senskin@gmail.com) Story Title: HP 1 - Ch 1 ------------------------------------------------------------ This is a work of parody. There is no intention to infringe on any copyright owners. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. ------------------------------------------------------------ Hairy Peeter and the Philosopher's Bone - Chapter 1 (ped, inc, cons, size, cum eating) By SensualKink (senskin@gmail.com) Chapter One - The Boy Who Didn't Get Bunged to Death Mr. and Mrs. Droolsley, of number four, Pervert Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. Mr. Droolsley was the director of a firm called Gruntings, which made dildoes. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any cock, although he did have very large testicals. Mrs. Droolsley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors, and on her knees in search of longer and longer cocks to suck. The Droolsleys had a small son called Didley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. The Droolsleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Peeters. Mrs. Peeter was Mrs. Droolsley's sister, but they hadn't had sex for several years; in fact, Mrs. Droolsley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDroolsleyish as it was possible to be. The Droolsleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Peeters arrived in the street. The Droolsleys knew that the Peeters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Peeters away; they didn't want Didley mixing with a child like that. When Mr. and Mrs. Droolsley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Droolsley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Droolsley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Didley into his high chair then took his infantile genitals into her mouth to calm him down. None of them noticed a large, tawny owl with human genitalia flutter past the window. At half past eight, Mr. Droolsley squirted a huge load of cum into his wife's slurping lips, some of which she milked out into Didley's gruel to add flavor. He picked up his briefcase, wiped his spent cock on Mrs. Droolsley's cheek, and tried to kiss Didley good-bye but missed, because Didley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little fucker," chortled Mr. Droolsley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive. It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar -- a cat with enormous human vulva reading a map. For a second, Mr. Droolsley didn't realize what he had seen -- then he stopped jerking off to look again. There was a tabby cat with bulging pink vulva standing on the corner of Pervert Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Droolsley blinked and stared at the cat's succulent genitalia. It stared back. As Mr. Droolsley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror, beating off and imagining what it would be like to fuck it. It was now reading the sign that said Pervert Drive -- no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr. Droolsley gave himself a vigorous handjob and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of dildoes he was hoping to get that day. But on the edge of town, dildoes were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat whacking his pud in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in thongs. Mr. Droolsley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes -- the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his free fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Droolsley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green thong! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Droolsley that this was probably some silly stunt -- these people were obviously selling something... yes, that would be it. Maybe even dildoes. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Droolsley arrived in the Gruntings parking lot, his mind back on dildoes and pissed off that those weirdos had kept him from squirting a load in his coffee. Mr. Droolsley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor because he was always jerking off at work. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on dildoes that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past with their oversized genitalia flapping in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Droolsley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people over the intercom while he was fucking his new, young secretary in the ass. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more while she knelt and took his copious load in her mouth. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a cum bun from the bakery. He'd forgotten all about the people in thongs until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single advertisement. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large cock-and-ball shaped doughnut with the cashier's pussy juice all over it in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying. "The fucking Peeters, that's right, that's what I heard yes, their fucking son, Hairy" Mr. Droolsley stopped dead. Fear flooded him and he peed his pants a little. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it. He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his cock, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Peeter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Peeter who had a son called Hairy. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Hairy. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Horace. Or Hubert. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Droolsley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her -- if he'd had a sister who was that fucking hot... but all the same, those people in thongs... He found it a lot harder to concentrate on dildoes that afternoon even when he made his secretary get under the desk and suck his ass-fucked cock but after two hours he finally gave up ever being able to squirt in his secretary's mouth again. He left the building at five o'clock and he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door. "Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Droolsley realized that the man was wearing a violet thong. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. Or by the fact that his ill-fitting thong became displaced and his genitals were swinging free for all the world to see. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muffles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!" And the old man hugged Mr. Droolsley around the middle, taking an opportunity to squeeze Droolsley's fat ass. The old man hummed happily grinding his flopping genitals around Droolsley's crotch and walked off. Mr. Droolsley stood rooted to the spot. He had been fondled by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muffle, whatever that was. And given the inexplicable hard-on he was now sporting, it was safe to say he was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination. As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw -- and it didn't improve his mood -- was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall slowly lapping the perfect pussy flower between its hairy legs. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes. "Shit!" said Mr. Droolsley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Droolsley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he made a point to not look at the cat's wet labia and let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs. Droolsley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her lesbian daughter and how Didley had learned a new word ("Fuck!"). Mr. Droolsley tried to act normally. When Didley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: "And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern or why they all appear to have oversized genitalia." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGulpin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?" "Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kunt, Yankshire, and Dumdee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of steaming semen! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bunfuck Night early -- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a sticky night tonight." Mr. Droolsley sat frozen in his armchair. Raining semen all over Britain? Deformed owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in thongs all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Peeters... Mrs. Droolsley came into the living room in her leather and chains one-piece carrying two cups of tea. She looked very attractive with her cone-shaped tits protruding from circular cut-outs with black pasties over her long, hard nipples. Her camel toe was completely obvious and her shapely ass was bare in the back with only a thin leather thong running between her cheeks. She adjusted her black eye-mask and knelt down to slurp and suck his huge balls, wanking his little cock to produce the evenings tea flavoring. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er -- Peetuna, dear -- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?" As he had expected, Mrs. Droolsley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a hot sister who got all the cock. "Fuck no," she said, sharply squeezing his balls. "Why the fuck would you ask that?" "Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Droolsley mumbled. "Owls... raining semen... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..." "So the fuck what?" snapped Mrs. Droolsley, slipping her thin lips over his now-dribbling cock and easily sucking him into her warm mouth. "Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd." He struggled to get the words out as she deftly brought him off and laced their tea with long squirts of his thick goo. Mrs. Droolsley sipped her cummy tea through pursed lips. Mr. Droolsley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Peeter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son -- he'd be about Didley's age now, wouldn't he?" "I suppose so," said Mrs. Droolsley stiffly, using a small cracker to scoop up a thick glob of white sperm sauce then lifting it to her hungry mouth. "What's his name again? Hobart, isn't it?" "Hairy. Nasty, common name, if you ask me." As if in warning that he'd ruined the mood, she reached down and detached a device from her belt. It was a flail on one end and a thick black dildo on the other. "Oh, yes," said Mr. Droolsley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree." He shivered with dread as she began to stroke the flail over his huge balls. He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Droolsley was in the bathroom preparing his enema, Mr. Droolsley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there licking itself. It was staring down Pervert Drive as though it were waiting for something. Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Peeters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of -- well, he didn't think he could bear it. The Droolsleys got into bed. After whipping his ass and fucking him relentlessly with a strap-on, Mrs. Droolsley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Droolsley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Peeters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Droolsley. The Peeters knew very well what he and Peetuna thought about them and their kind.... He couldn't see how he and Peetuna could get mixed up in anything that might be going on -- he yawned and turned over to take some pressure off his aching ass-- it couldn't affect them.... How very wrong he was. Mr. Droolsley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue licking itself, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Pervert Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat stopped its steady licking at all. A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's labia twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Pervert Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his beard and pubics, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes that swept the ground over a purple thong, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his cock was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Anus Dribbledong. Anus Dribbledong didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his loose thong, looking for something. It left his huge cock and balls dangling around in the night air though he seemed unconcerned. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled, wagged his long crooked cock up and down muttering, "I should have known." He found what he was looking for amongst his gray-haired balls. It seemed to be a silver anal vibrator. He gave it a lick, held it up in the air, and clicked it to buzzing life. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again -- the next lamp flickered into darkness. Each time the light was seemingly sucked out of the lamp into the vibrator which made it glimmer and vibrate more vigorously. Twelve times he clicked the Poot-Oscillator, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Droolsley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dribbledong slipped the violently-shaking Poot-Oscillator up his ass and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat and began stroking his long, bent cock. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it. "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGulpitall." He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a thong, an emerald one, but it was pulled aside and those same outturned pussy lips glimmered like a pink flower in the night. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. "How did you know it was me?" she asked, lifting her feet up so her skinny legs were bent and her delicious pussy was poised on the edge of the wall. "My dear Professor, I would recognize those pussy lips anywhere. Plus, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly." "You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGulpitall. She eyed his growing shlong and added her skinny fingers to help him stroke. "Let's see if we can't get you stiff right now." "All day? When you could have been copulating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and orgies on my way here." He reached over and gave her sopping wet lips a stroke with his finger. He lifted his sticky finger up to her face and smiled, "This would surely have been in high demand at any celebration." Professor McGulpitall sniffed angrily, then gave in and slurped her own juices from his fingertip. McGulpitall could never resist fresh secretions, especially her own. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said, impatiently ramming his hand back down to her pussy. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no -- even the Muffles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Droolsleys' dark living-room window since both hands were now busy yanking Dribbledong's crooked cock to hardness. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... raining semen.... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Raining cum down in Kunt -- I'll bet that was Deadass Dingle. He never had much fucking sense." "You can't blame them," said Dribbledong, gently pulling her head down to his now-throbbing cock. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years." She slid her expert lips over his huge head and he sighed contentedly as she slurped wetly on six inches of his enormous penis. "I know that," said Professor McGulpitall, irritably pausing from her favorite pastime. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muffle clothes, swapping bodily fluids." She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dribbledong here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she jerked his huge cock with both hands and went on. "A fine fucking thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muffles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dribbledong?" She tongued the clear juice oozing from his urethra and looked up at him hopefully. "It certainly seems so," said Dribbledong, standing up so he could properly fuck her throat. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a semen drop?" "A what? You better be planning on giving me more than a drop." And with that, she expertly slid her lips over his fat head and inhaled a good 10 inches of his massive dong. "A semen drop. They're a kind of Muffle sweet I'm rather fond of." He mumbled a few words and waved his fingers. Suddenly McGulpitall squealed and sat up straight. She spread her legs further apart and held her cupped palm beneath her fat vulva as sticky, white candies popped out of her pussy. From the way her hand shook and her voice became shrill, it was likely that he'd just given her a small orgasm. She held the candies up to him in a puddle of her pussy juice with a withering look. "No, thank you," said Professor McGulpitall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for semen drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone-" "My dear Professor," Dribbledong said, reaching down to take the sticky candies and pop them in his mouth. "Surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense -- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Moldywort." Professor McGulpitall flinched, but Dribbledong, who was slurping pussy juice from two semen drops, seemed not to notice and pushed his fat cock down her throat again. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Moldywort's name. "I know you haven't," said Professor McGulpitall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Moldywort, was frightened of." Mewling like a kitten, she jerked his fully hard cock and bent to slather his huge balls with her tongue. "You flatter me," said Dribbledong calmly reaching down to push her robes aside and play with her saggy little tits. "Moldywort had powers I will never have." McGulpitall hissed with pleasure and leaned back to finger her sopping pussy as he thrilled her with nipple play. "Only because you're too -- well -- noble to use them." Belying her age, she lifted her feet high, forming a V with her beautiful pussy at the apex. "It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Palmfury told me she liked the way my cum tasted." Professor McGulpitall shot a sharp look at Dribbledong and said, "That silly bitch!" She pulled him forward by his huge cock, obviously wanting him to devote his attentions to her alone. "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?" It seemed that Professor McGulpitall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day licking herself. For neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dribbledong with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dribbledong told her it was true. Dribbledong, however, was busy lining up his fat head with her soaking pussy lips. "What they're saying," she pressed on, moaning as his fat head parted her sweet lips and sank inside her creamy warmness, "is that last night Moldywort turned up in Goodick's Hollow. He went to find the Peeters. The rumor is that Loli and Jism Peeter are -- are -- that they've - been fucked to death. " Dribbledong bowed his head, even as his long cock sank further into her fiery depths. Professor McGulpitall gasped and grabbed handfuls of his robes to hang on. "Loli and Jism... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Anus..." She wrapped her legs around him as his huge penis continued to disappear inside her splayed pink flower. Dribbledong reached out and traced her panting lips with his sticky finger. "I know... I know..." he said heavily, pushing more. Pushing until his entire cock was firmly buried in her gushing wet pussy. Professor McGulpitall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to rape the Peeter's son, Hairy. But -- he couldn't. He couldn't rape that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't rape Hairy Peeter, Moldywort's cock power somehow broke -- and that's why he's gone." Dribbledong nodded glumly, even as his scrawny ass cheeks clenched and he made his bent cock lurch inside her pussy. "It's -- it's true?" faltered Professor McGulpitall, grinding her hips around, needing to be fucked. "After all he's done... all the people he's sodomized... he couldn't ass fuck a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of humping asses did Hairy survive?" "We can only guess," said Dribbledong. "We may never know." And then he pulled back and began to give her his cock the way she always wanted it. Professor McGulpitall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles, even as she lifted her lithe hips to meet his long thrusts. Dribbledong gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve stylized penis hands but no numbers; instead, little genitalia were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dribbledong, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hogrod's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?" "Yes," Professor McGulpitall moaned in ecstasy as his huge cock slid in and out of her pussy. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?" "I've come to bring Hairy to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now." He returned to twisting her sensitive nipples as he lunged into her sopping cunt. "You don't mean -- you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGulpitall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dribbledong -- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son -- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for a blowjob. Hairy Peeter come and live here!" Dribbledong calmly turned her around, bent her over the wall, lifted her robes and began to fuck her from behind. "It's the best place for him," said Dribbledong firmly squeezing and caressing her surprisingly beautiful ass. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter." "A letter?" repeated Professor McGulpitall faintly, clawing the wall and arching her back as he fucked her silly. "Really, Dribbledong, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous -- a legend -- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Hairy Peeter day in the future -- there will be porno movies made about Hairy -- every child in our world will want to do him!" "Exactly," said Dribbledong, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. As if to emphasize, he began to give her tight ass cheeks quick, sharp smacks as he balled her furiously. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?" Professor McGulpitall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes -- yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dribbledong?" She turned back and eyed his big cock repeatedly disappearing inside her, as if she was afraid they might not have time to finish. She was so close... "Hogrod's bringing him." Dribbledong pulled her ass cheeks apart so he could watch her pretty wrinkled anus pulse as he shoved his fat cock up her over and over. "You think it -- wise -- to trust Hogrod with something as important as this?" she panted, feeling her orgasm rising inside her as his cock expanded and she knew he was ready to blow. "I would trust Hogrod with my life," said Dribbledong, loving the way her tight ass wiggled each time he rammed into her. "I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGulpitall haltingly. She was cumming hard and just barely squeaked out, "But you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to -- what was that?" A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky -- and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them. Which was probably a good thing since this was also the moment that Dribbledong's huge penis began to lurch, pumping huge fountains of thick, creamy cum into McGulpitall's quivering pussy. She pinched her nipples and wailed like a whore. Meanwhile, Dribbledong was gripping her ass cheeks in strong fingers, lunging into her with each torrent that exploded from his cock. He too threw his head back and wailed in a deep, cracking voice as a massive orgasm burned through him. Torrents of hot milky cum poured out of McGulpitall's fat, pink lips and each thrust pushed out more. It ran down the wall all bubbly and chunky, pooling in the dirt. If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the cock of the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, but nothing could hide the gigantic penis and balls between his legs. He had hands the size of trash can lids, and his testicles in their leather thong were like bowling balls. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets. "Hogrod," said Dribbledong, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?" Dribbledong looked down, eyes alight, watching his huge cum coated cock slide in and out of McGulpitall's fat pussy lips. The sound of cum pattering on the ground with each in and out stroke was like music to his ears. The only thing more beautiful would have been the sound of excess cum pattering into an open mouth below him. "Borrowed it, Professor Dribbledong, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke, his giant cock flopping around. "Young Spurious Blank lent it to me for an assfucking. I've got him, sir." "No problems, were there?" Dribbledong pulled his messy cock out of McGulpitall's cunt and used his fat head to scoop up cream that was still oozing from inside her. He pushed it up through her fat lips repeatedly and let it spill over onto her tiny belly. She cooed and bore down to push out more and more. Then she bent her body impossibly and began to lap up his hot cream from her tummy with her tongue. "No, sir -- house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muffles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Pisstol." Hogrod stood over them with an interested look. McGulpitall looked up to see his giant testicals and cock dangling over her head. When his cock twitched, she cried out and jumped, almost falling off the wall. Hogrod extended his hand down between them to show them what he carried. Dribbledong and Professor McGulpitall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black pubic hair that concealed his little penis they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning that ran down the top of his cock and ended just above his peehole. "Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGulpitall, gently running a nail down his little penis. "Yes," said Dribbledong. "He'll have that scar forever." He was now sliding his wet cock all over McGulpitall's tummy full of cum. "Couldn't you do something about it, Dribbledong?" And as if to emphasize her request, she bent forward, stretched her thin lips and slid his huge bent cock down her throat. "Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself on my left testical that is a perfect map of the Longdong Underground. Well -- give him here, Hogrod -- we'd better get this over with." Dribbledong took Hairy in his arms and turned toward the Droolsleys' house. His huge cock popped out of McGulpitall's mouth and she raised her eyebrows as if to say, "Well fine then..." "Could I -- could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hogrod, giant hands nervously fondling his own massive balls. He bent his great, shaggy head over Hairy and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss, slurping his tiny genitals into his giant mouth. Then, suddenly, Hogrod let out a howl like a wounded dog and stood upright, his gigantic cock sticking straight out now, a large dollop of clear liquid poised at his enormous hole. "Shhh!" hissed Professor McGulpitall, "you'll wake the fucking Muffles!" With a few muttered incantations, she leapt forward and her jaws stretched impossibly to take Hogrod's cantaloupe-sized head into her mouth. The shaft was the size of a man's thigh and all 2.5 feet of his vein-covered length throbbed and lurched. Eyes wide, her mouth continued to stretch and Hogrod's cock slowly disappeared bulging her throat outward until she looked like a bullfrog with a witch's hat on. "S-s-sorry," sobbed Hogrod, taking out a large, cum-stained handkerchief and burying his face in it. McGulpitall slid her maw up and down the last 12" of his monster meat and Dribbledong felt his old bent cock stirring again. "But I c-c-can't stand it -- Loli an' Jism raped dead -- an' poor little Hairy off ter live with Muffles-" "Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a fucking grip, Hogrod, or we're fucked," Professor McGulpitall paused to whisper. Streamers of spit connected her now-normal-sized lips to his glistening sausage. She fondled Hogrod's huge balls gingerly and resumed her blowjob as Dribbledong stepped over behind Hogrod. He bent over with one hand on one knee and used the other to catch the Poot-Oscillator as he pushed it out of his ass. Then he pushed Hogrod's huge coat out of the way, snapped his thong out of the crack in his hairy ass and shoved the Poot-Oscillator home. "There. This will make you cum buckets." McGulpitall was really hitting her stride as Dribbledong stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Hairy gently on the doorstep, fondled his genitals for a bit, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Hairy's blankets, and then came back to the other two. Hogrod was holding McGulpitall's head in his huge hands and ramming his giant cock down her expanded throat. She held onto his huge hairy balls for dear life until the giant man sighed and came. His huge cock began to lurch, lifting McGulpitall off the ground. For a full minute the three of them were frozen watching him squirt gallons of cum down her throat; Hogrod's legs shook, Professor McGulpitall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dribbledong's eyes seemed to flare with brilliance. Hot, thick, white sperm erupted from McGulpitall's nose and exploded around his cock. "Oh, Professor!" Hogrod moaned. "I've always wanted to do that." Choking, McGulpitall ripped herself out of his grip and Dribbledong cooed as the last vestiges of Hogrod's ejaculation spilled and spurted out of his huge dick leaving McGulpitall plastered with pearlescent goo from head to toe. "Well," said Dribbledong finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join an orgy." He deftly reached around, pulled Hogrod's huge ass cheeks apart and recovered his Poot-Oscillator. "Yeah," said Hogrod slinging the last dollops of cum at her, "I'll be takin' Spurious his bike back. G'night, Professor McGulpitall -- Professor Dribbledong, sir." Hogrod took his handkerchief and wiped goo out of her eyes, then turned and walked away. Wiping his sticky, dribbling cock on his jacket sleeve, Hogrod swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night. "I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGulpitall," said Dribbledong, nodding to her. Professor McGulpitall knelt with her huge maw still filled with goo. Streamers of thick cum connected her top and bottom lips and spilled out of the side of her mouth. She bulged her giant cheeks and swallowed loudly in reply. The look on her face when it returned to normal was total shock. Dribbledong turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Poot-Oscillator. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Pervert Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat-every bit of its fur matted with goo-slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four. "Good luck, Hairy," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone. A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Pervert Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Hairy Peeter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on his penis and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Droolsley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles and blow the milkman, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Didley... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were pausing in the love-making and saying in hushed voices: "To Hairy Peeter -- the boy who didn't get bunged to death!"