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Subject: Story!  Adventureland (A DISNEY FUCK!!)
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AdventureLand
     by Sue
A few years ago, my sister invited me to join her family for a trip to
Orlando and the Disney World complex. They live in Chicago, and I
hardly
ever get a chance to see them. So I said yes, despite my preference
for
traveling to more exotic and adventurous destinations. Judy's kids are
5
and 8 years old, so I knew that it would be fun to watch them enjoy
the
wonderland of children's pleasures. Her husband Jake and I don't
normally
get along too well -- I guess he thinks I'm too much of free spirit (I
am
that, am I not?), or maybe he disapproves of my continuing unmarried
status. And to be honest, I'm not that enamored with his all-business
lifestyle, and sometimes I could strangle him when he goes on and on
about
the Magnificent Rush Limbaugh!! So it was with mixed feelings that the
trip was begun. I'm glad to report that I did figure out how to have a
good time.

Because of bad weather in Boston, I got into Orlando Airport five
hours
late, and didn't get to the hotel until after midnight. Of course,
Judy's
family was already tucked in and deep asleep, ready to get an early
start
the next day. So I slipped a note under the door of their room,
explaining
my lateness and suggesting that they go on ahead in the morning. I'd
try
to meet them at Cinderella's Castle at noon time. I wanted to be well
rested, in hopes that it would help fortify my patience with the kids
and
Jake. I put out the "Do Not Disturb" sign and flopped down on the
luxurious queen-size bed.

I slept like the proverbial log, and when I awoke, I was amazed to see
the
time; it was already 11:00 AM. I quickly showered and threw on a
simple
tee-shirt dress and sandals, and dashed down to the front desk. I had
just
missed the shuttle bus, and had to wait 20 minutes for the next one. I
could see the monorail pull out of the station from the Disney parking
lot, costing me another ten minutes. By the time I entered the Magic
Kingdom and ran up Main Street, I was worried that I would miss them
completely. I was already 45 minutes late, and with her kids made
hyperactive by all the excitement, it would probably be impossible to
get
them to sit still to wait for ol' Aunt Sue. I could just hear Jake
muttering about my irresponsibility and lack of respect. I ran up the
path
and into the heart of the Castle, surrounded by the mosaic of
fairy-tale
characters. Searching frantically, I finally went through the back of
the
tunnel. Amidst the crowd, I thought I saw Jake and Judy, but when I
tried
to catch up with them, they had disappeared. There was no way of
knowing
where they were off to, so after trying to think of a solution, I
decided
to just enjoy the day on my own.

And I surprised myself. I had no idea how much fun this place was
going to
be. Splash Mountain was a heart-stopping thrill, and the Haunted House
was
really eerie. I even got Donald Duck and Captain Hook to sign my
shirt.
behind their big plastic masks, it was hard to tell if they were
enjoying
the idea of pressing their pens into the white fabric and my pliant
flesh
beneath. Looking down at their signatures, I also noticed how apparent
my
nipples were, poking out through the thin fabric, unfettered by a bra.
It
was a turn-on for me to think of the many hundreds of strangers who
could
view my body so completely, for the dress hardly disguised anything.
Checking my hips, I could even see the color and raised outline of my
black thong panties. In the line for Thunder Mountain, the man behind
me
kept pushing up against my backside, all the while chattering away
with
his whiny kids. I pushed my ass back into his groin a couple of times,
and
the second occasion was rewarded by the feel of his noticeably erect
cock
trapped in his tight pants. Hopefully his wife would be ready for some
sex
later that evening, for I had certainly gotten the ball rolling.

One of the rides that I had heard about so many times from my eager
nieces
was Pirates of the Caribbean. It was already getting dark, so I headed
over to Adventureland and had a quick dinner at an outdoor restaurant.
When I walked over to the Pirates ride, I was surprised to see that
there
was no line. I walked into the building, and was greeted by a young
man
who informed me that the park was about to shut down for the night,
and
that the ride has just closed down. It was only 7:00! I had no idea
that
Disney closed so early. He informed me that Epcot and Pleasure Island
were
open much later. He was even brash enough to ask if he could escort me
to
Pleasure Island for some late-night fun at the night-clubs. I politely
declined, explaining that I had to catch up with my family.

Then I noticed that people were still coming out of the exit for the
Pirates ride. I sidled up close to him and begged him to let me take
the
ride. It wouldn't hurt anyone if he bent the rules a little. I was a
little ashamed of myself for being so manipulative of this young and
impressionable guy. But it was fun to flirt with him, and a challenge
to
see if I could get my way. His eyes flashed back and forth from my
face to
my chest, where he became more brazen about ogling my hard nipples. I
even
asked him if he would like to take the ride with me, but he said that
he
could get fired for that.

Eventually, he relented to my pleas and the effects of my feminine
charms,
and after glancing around to see if anyone was watching, he lifted the
rope and let me in. Following me down through the dark passageways
that
led to the ride, we eventually got to the dock. Before I hopped into a
boat, I turned to him and drew him into my arms, giving him a sizzling
French kiss that shocked him. When I stepped away, he was standing
there
in a dreamy daze, and remained that way as I jumped into a boat and
took
off into the bowels of the cavernous ride.

Of course, my flirting not only had an effect on the ride attendant; I
too
was feeling a twinge of adventurous sexuality. When the boat floated
into
the first scene of ships firing their cannons at each other, I
immediately
fell under the spell of the realistic extravaganza. The sights and
sounds
and smells were so believable and palpable. At the same time, some
part of
me remained curious about the way the Disney people created this
illusion
of reality. I found myself frustrated with being a passive participant
in
this ride, for my natural instinct in almost all cases is to be more
involved. I wanted to "be" a pirate, I wanted to fight with swords and
plunder the villages. Being planted in this seat, on a planned trip
through a computer-controlled experience, just wasn't my style.

Suddenly, I realized that I wasn't a captive to the ride. I was alone
in
the building, with no one watching my behavior. Without any hesitation
or
forethought, I jumped to my feet, leapt from the gunwale of the boat
and
onto the floor of the vignette, ready to experience the adventure
first
hand. It was only as I watched my boat drift away into a tunnel that I
had
a moment of second-thoughts. Just as fast, I put those fears aside,
and
surveyed the tableau surrounding me. On both sides of the "river"
pirates
were pillaging a quaint village. The townspeople's protests were
resulting
in the execution of someone who looked like the fat old mayor. Two men
were engaged in a sword fight, while a woman cowered on the ground
next to
them. Fire appeared at the ground-floor window of one of the rustic
buildings, and the sharp reports of sporadic gunfire filled the air,
as
did the smell of acrid smoke.

Of course, all of this was really more like a still photograph, with
just
enough limited movement by the characters to barely simulate reality.
The
motions were brief and repetitive, and when I got nearer to the
people,
the magnificent illusion was at least partially broken. Their faces
were
less convincing from close-up, and I could even hear the humming
motors
hidden under their disguises. Of course, these were all carefully
programmed robots (I've since heard it called "animatronics"), but I
was
still impressed with the attention to detail and the timing. I made a
conscious decision to play along with the fabricated drama. For a few
moments, I would play a role in this fantasy, taking the identity of a
wanton temptress. After all, I'd tried out for this part only minutes
ago
when I flirted shamelessly with the ride attendant.
That buccaneer over there carrying the sack of grain over his shoulder
looked kind of brawny and cute, I thought, so I walked up to him and
tickled his flanks, hoping that he would drop the heavy bag. This
didn't
get any reaction from him, so I pressed my entire body up against the
front of his torso, reaching around to caress his back. His legs were
pumping up and down as he walked, and one knee slipped between my
legs. I
thrust my groin forwards and felt his thigh push into my pubic mound,
covered only by the two thin layers of fabric. I hadn't realized that
I
was already moist there until I felt that blunt pressure squash my
cunt
lips around. I let my hands drop down onto his ass cheeks. What a man
--
he had the much sought-after "buns of steel!" But when I reached
around
into his crotch, I was disappointed to discover that he was a eunuch.
This
was not the man for me.

Looking around, I saw the scene of the Mayor about to be executed by a
brutish-looking man who was perhaps the Captain of the pirates. He had
a
snarling expression on his face, and his wooden-handled pistol was
pointed
at the chest of the befuddled gentleman cowering against the wall. His
arms were outstretched and wavering, with the palms open in a futile
effort to defend himself. He deserved a treat, sort of a final wish
before
his death, so I left the grain-thief and walked up to the Mayor. By
standing right in front of him, I protected him from the pirates nasty
threats and bullets, and I also found that his hands were right at the
level of my breasts. I leaned forwards, and his palms cupped my soft
flesh
perfectly, his fingers clenching rhythmically, kneading insistently. I
pull up my dress all the way, so that his hard hands could touch my
warm
skin directly. My nipples were pinched between his fingers. The pirate
could only stare at my backside, with the tee shape of my thong
revealing
my cheeks and hiding only my asshole and cunt from his prying eyes. I
teased him by shaking my ass at him, and marveled at his
self-restraint at
not attacking my saucy target. But he remained where he was,
preferring to
watch me rub my breasts into the Mayor's hands. One of my own hands
slipped down my belly, and pushed the crotch of my panties deep into
the
slippery folds of my cunt. I'm sure the pirate could see the rounded
mound
of my cunt, split apart like an overripe nectarine by my probing
finger.
When I finally pulled away from the Mayor, I stood between him and the
pirate, then reached under my short dress and pulled off my panties.
Standing beside the pirate I wiped my wet finger across his lips and
hung
the skimpy piece of black nylon on the barrel of his gun. "Too bad you
are
more interested in your pistol than your sword!" I told him, then
leapt
away before he changed his mind. The brooding, silent types are the
most
dangerous when aroused. I could only hope that I had distracted him
long
enough for both the Mayor and I to escape.

How else could I fool around with these actors who could only perform
again and again, for me alone? Looking around, I saw a peasant lying
on
the ground, suffering from some injury inflicted by the pirate that
was
running away from him. His whole body was writhing and heaving, his
hands
clutched over his waist, and his jaws were working open and closed as
he
emitted a moaning sound. I have always had a lurid imagination, and
immediately, I could see how I might take advantage of his dilemma. I
approached his recumbent body, then put one foot on either side of his
head so that I was facing his feet. I patiently and deliberately bent
my
knees, squatting lower and lower. My white cotton dress draped around
his
head, and eventually, my naked cunt touched his face. I leaned
forwards so
that I could support myself with my hands on his bucking thighs, and
then
positioned myself carefully so that his long, bony nose slipped right
up
between my greasy labia, and his pistoning jaws touched my clitoris.
That
was so deliciously perfect. Despite his painful wound, this man knew
what
I wanted, what I had been working up to all day as I started by
teasing
the man in the line at Thunder Mountain. Now I had the direct and
persistent contact that my cunt needed so much. My body arched and I
tipped my head back, twisting it so that my long blond hair whipped
about.
As I did this my hands drew up from his thighs and onto his hips. I
found
that I had an irresistible temptation to check out his crotch,
although I
knew that he too would be a castrated robot. What a surprise I had
when my
hands discovered a hard lump instead of sexless smoothness. It was big
and
long and extended straight up toward his navel. Even through the
coarse
material of his peasant's costume, I could feel the heat. I was so
into my
role-playing that I just put aside my questions about this robot's
construction, and simply took advantage of the situation. Perhaps it
was
the noisy chaos that surrounded me that help maintain my suspension of
disbelief. I quickly unbuttoned his pants and yanked them down off his
bucking hips. His boxer shorts went next, and then I let my head drop
down
into his lap, holding his ass with my hands as my eager mouth
enveloped
the fat head of his rigid cock.
The salty taste and pungent odor assaulted my senses and intensified
my
unbound fervor. I opened my jaws wide and consumed the smooth shaft of
stony flesh all the way in, mashing my lips into his wiry pubic hair
and
washing my tongue over the underside of his cock. The fingers of one
of my
hands insinuated themselves between his thighs, which were bound
together
by his bunched-up clothes. I pulled his balls free from that trap, and
lightly tickled him around the base of his scrotum, which seemed to
bring
forth even more of the humping and writhing that had originally been
caused by his mortal injuries. My breasts were pressed hard into his
hands, still clasped over his stomach injury, and I teased my hard
nipples
over his knuckles. I rocked my soaking-wet clitoris back and forth on
his
munching mandible, while his nose slid in and out of the entrance of
my
vagina with the same tempo as his cock entered my sucking mouth.

I have no idea how long we kept this up, for time-keeping was lost in
the
turbulence within and around me. But gradually, the rising tide of my
orgasm crept up the dikes defending my libido, eventually surging over
the
tops of the embankments and flooding into every nook and cranny of my
quivering body. I snapped my cunt down hard onto his face, bruising my
tender flesh in a compulsive and convulsive climax that peaked, and
then
slowly slipped back into the subsiding river.

Suddenly, the peasant's hands became unfrozen, pulling away from my
gasping chest, then slipping out from under my tummy, and onto my ass
cheeks under the dress. He pushed me forwards off his face, which
helped
me realize that he might have had trouble breathing with my squishy
cunt
plastered onto his face. I ended up on my hands and knees, and he took
the
opportunity to slide his body out from under me, forcing my hands and
lips
to release his throbbing cock. Now he got up on his own knees behind
me,
positioning his cock right at the aperture of my vagina. I awaited his
inevitable thrust forwards, but it did not come. For the first time
since
I saw him, he was now rock-steady, a petrified sculpture. So I took
the
initiative again, and pushed back with my hands, pressing my cunt back
onto the solid tube of meat. At first, the wide, flat head resisted my
attack, but then, with a popping sound that I could hear over the
cacophony of the continuing battle, I swallowed up the head, and with
a
single thrust backwards, impaled myself completely on his hot sword.
Once
again I enjoyed the feeling of his brushy pubic hair, this time
impressed
on a different set of wet lips.

Now it was my turn to test his determination, for I too could play
dead.
With his cock fully embedded, I remained still, only allowing my
internal
vaginal muscles to tighten and churn. I knew that he couldn't remain
passive for too long. After a few minutes of my subtle, invisible
massage,
his fingers began to dig into my hips harder, matching the tempo of my
clenching cunt. Without warning, he finally broke under the strain,
and
jerked his cock out until the fat head almost broke free, then he
plunged
it back in vigorously, almost throwing me off balance onto my face. Of
course, once his patience was gone, he couldn't stop with just that
singular thrust. It was followed by jab after jab as he crammed his
engorged cock in and out of me, captivated by an animalistic lust that
brought grunts of pleasure and effort from both of us. I attempted to
match his furious lunging with parries of my own, but I could not keep
up
with him, so I resorted to bracing myself with my hands out over my
head
and my knees spread wide. My breasts swung wildly, and my nipples
grazed
lightly over the smooth, hard floorboards. Occasionally, his pounding
thrusts had so much enthusiasm that they lifted my knees off the
ground
and skated me forwards, ever closer and closer to the flaming
building. I
could feel the heat on my face from the flames, and the heat around
and
within me from the pure, limitless lust that was kindled by our
untamed
ardor.

His pace had been accelerating throughout this time, 'til he reached a
jackhammer cadence. But just as suddenly, he slowed to a complete
stop,
and I heard an unearthly howl rise from his throat as his orgasm
smashed
into his consciousness. Once again, I took over an active role, softly
riding my ass up and down on his stationary cock. It was motionless,
but
not dormant, for I could feel it twitching and spasming within my
milking
cunt. I reached under me and lightly massaged his low-slung balls,and
they
immediately escaped my grasp and pulled up high, as his howl turned
into a
hoarse, grunting rasp. A series of jerking spasms shook his body, and
I
could feel the accompanying jets of semen blast deep into me. My canal
was
irrigated with thick, slimy fluids which leaked out and down onto my
thighs, pooling on the floor beneath our melded genitals..
Eventually, I collected my wits enough to realize that my knees were
killing me, especially now that the peasant had collapsed his weight
onto
my back. So I heaved upwards and to the side, rolling him off of me so
that he fell to his back. His bandana had come off his head, and his
makeup was smeared. Who was this roguish lover? Even in my wildest
imaginings, I would not accept that a Disney robot could leave me
sitting
in a puddle of very tangible and sticky secretions. I leaned close to
be
more sure, but I instantly recognized who it was that had taken part
in my
"virtual reality" experience in Pirates of the Caribbean. Only he had
know
that I would be in the building, and that I hadn't exited when he
thought
I would. Only he could know how to insinuate himself into the scene of
the
village being ravished by the buccaneers. Only he would be responding
to
my sassy teasing that got me permission to take the ride.
I was furious for a minute that he had taken advantage of my
self-absorbed
involvement with the pirate show. But what did I really have to be mad
about? As he lay there with a sweet and drunken smile painted across
his
face (painted also with the shiny dry secretions that I had left
there),
how could I not forgive him. I leaned forwards and kissed him hard,
tasting myself as I slipped my tongue between his slack lips as I
stared
into his deep and astonished eyes.
"Would you like to come back to the hotel with me to meet my sister
and
her husband? I'm SURE they'll like you." I said mischievously.


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