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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: FUCK DECENCY 303 Pussy Playland (nnd) g2
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Coming Soon from Anne Rice
TROMBONE
A man and a woman fly around in time, fighting over a trombone. Is it
his? Is it hers? Or does it belong to the Ringling Bros.? (Buy it or
she’ll write more porn.)
Hardcover: $42
Paperback: $25
Plus “A Trombone for Anne Rice,” a new CD, only $29.97 (plus tax).
“I’ve always wanted to blow on a (trom)bone since I was a girl.”
- Anne Rice
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 303
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Pussy Playland
Chapter Four
Sherry tickled the underside of Jeff’s cock. “Is it too tight,
honey?” she asked. Her voice had a tone of mock sympathy in it. Yet I
knew she did not really want to hurt her husband. At least, I hoped she
didn’t. How awful it must have been for Jeff! He had a huge banana of
a cock, but now almost all of it was on the far side of the pillory,
choked at the base by the clamping wood, the rest left to quiver
untended, a hot dog in need of a bun.
“It’s... It’s tight but...” Jeff was awed by the fix his wife
had put him in.
“I’ll bet I could play with you all day and you’d never cum
now,” Sherry said playfully. She tickled Jeff’s penis and he groaned
and threw back his head. His buttcheeks, so slim and well-formed,
seemed to contract right into his body.
“I-I think you’d still see something shoot out if I came,” Jeff
said in a haggard voice. How delightful it must be to have a husband
and just play together, experimenting, I thought to myself. Sherry bent
low, mooning me with her bottom, and gave her husband’s prick a long,
mouthing kiss where his purplish head jumped at the air. When she arose
I saw that yet more of her lipstick had been smeared on his penis. And
little boys think they’ll never wear lipstick!
“Excuse me, honey, but I have to take a little break,” Sherry
said. She stood opposite her husband and, with loving eyes, began
rubbing her cunt with her fingers. She glanced at me. “This isn’t
exactly ladylike, is it?” she laughed. “But I can’t help it. I have to
have a little pleasure.” Jeff and I watched with anguished eyes for
several minutes as she played with herself. She enjoyed letting us
watch. Then, realizing an opportunity was right in front of her, she
faced her husband’s cock and introduced his head into her snatch.
“Well, dear, it looks like I’ve got the upper hand now,” Sherry
smiled at Jeff. “You WILL cum now, no question about it.” Slowly, she
drove the hard length of him up within herself. Jeff grimaced and
realized the battle was lost. I saw a little relief touch at the
corners of his mouth. He was captive, he could do no more. It was time
now for him to simply enjoy, and let himself go.
Sherry gasped as she felt the huge length of her husband’s
penis drive up within her. She was in control, yet he was so big, it
was like being in control of the empire state building. They were newly
married. She was still unused to his size. Yet she bit her lip and
soldiered on. When he was quite well up inside her, she began to draw
him back. Then, with him just at her lips again, she sunk on him anew.
She would have to manage the strokes because he was fixed in place. He
was like a steer, clamped down so that he could be used to sperm all the
cows. Sherry bucked her hips at him and rode him more freely as she
learned to accept him inside her body. Suddenly, as she played, her
eyes lit up. Jeff was cumming! Sherry pressed her lips right up to the
hole in the wood where his cock stuck through. She reached out and
hugged Jeff’s shoulders and, straining, they clasped one another. They
kissed awkwardly, with the wood between their loins yet his penis inside
her. Jeff came and came and came, his buttocks straining and compact,
his thing buried up inside Sherry where she could feel every last drop
of him flooding her uterus. Together they cried out. They were in
marital bliss, coupled, their loins working, hers clamping and sucking
and his thrusting and pumping.
When at last their course was run Sherry backed herself off of
Jeff’s cock. I watched with saddened eyes as he slowly deflated and, at
last, could simply remove himself from the pillory, without even asking
Sherry to lift up the top half. She brushed her hair back with her
fingers. A girl always looks classy doing that, even if she’s staring
at a man’s organ, wearing nothing herself, with sperm running down the
insides of her thighs. Sherry walked round to Jeff and clasped his
balls and his penis. She could cup both easily now. “I’m glad I didn’t
cut you off,” she smiled. “We do have a knife down here, you know.”
Jeff looked a little surprised. But he said nothing. He
kissed her instead, letting her dream of knives if she wished. She
squeezed his cock, his eggs, possessively. He was hers, after all,
wasn’t he? And she was his. Their kiss deepened and I was left to
watch with envy as they shared a long and intimate embrace.
The two of them looked at me when they finally separated. “Do
you think you could come up again so she could have her due?” Sherry
asked her husband. He nodded. “Then she must be taken home,” Sherry
said. Jeff nodded again. Rats.
Sherry walked up to me. She kissed me lightly on the lips and
ran a feathery hand over my forehead. “Just relax, dear. You’ll get
yours in a minute,” she said. I gasped and she kissed my whimpering
lips and walked away. Her bottom, lovely and full and seemingly
suspended atop her slim, column-like legs, rolled with womanly
satisfaction. She went to the table and picked up the empty bottle of
champagne. Grinning at me, she came back with it. She stood beside me
and put a finger within my mouth.
“Suck,” she told me. I tongued her. “This should help a
little,” she said softly, and put the neck of the bottle against my cunt
lips. Slowly I felt it start to intrude.
Jeff walked up to us. I saw over Sherry’s finger that he was
already getting hard again. The obscenity of her fucking me with the
bottle was arousing him. He began to play with himself, enjoying the
sight. Gradually, as she shunted the bottle within me, making me moan
and cry out, he lengthened and hardened.
“There, you’re both ready now,” Sherry whispered. She removed
the bottle from me but not her finger. Jeff stood close, held himself,
like a man about to urinate into a urinal. I felt fingers part my pussy
lips and then, quite boldly, a cock shove itself up inside my cunt.
I screamed. I had wanted him so long, and now he was here,
breathing hotly on me, the hair of his massive chest against me, his
thing up inside me. I bucked at him, as if to push him away, but it
only buried him deeper. With quick, forceful strokes he fucked me. I
panted, Sherry all the while fingered my mouth. At the same time she
tickled her pussy anew. We would all share this last orgasm together.
MAGAZINE REVIEWS
by holy joe
Playboy’s X-GIRLS, $6.95. http://www.playboy.com
Review: Stocks go up. Stocks go down. And now some guy told
me there’s a “Million Molester March” being planned. Apparently they’re
going to all march to a playground or something. I’ll keep my ears open
for more. In the meantime, you can worry about it.
As for me, my retirement plans remain unchanged. I’m investing
in porn. I intend to spend my golden years ‘reading’.
All month long I looked forward with baited breath to Playboy’s
X-GIRLS. One reason was I couldn’t figure out what X-GIRLS could
possibly stand for. Was it girls who’d been Playboy Playmates, and then
gone on to star in X-rated movies? Well, it turns out that they are the
girls of “Generation X.” (A dumb name, for a dumb generation.) (Just
kidding.)
I enjoyed the X-GIRLS. For one thing, the cover is great. But
then I knew it would be, since last summer I sold the Playboy company a
bunch of “holy joe bras.” I’m no longer in that business, alas. Making
women’s underwear turned out not to be a profitable venture. All the
girls kept complaining that their bras, after they put them on, kept
getting tighter and tighter. Finally the girls would rip off their
bras, often right in public, because they could no longer stand them. I
thought it was pretty cool, seeing girls rip their bras off, but
apparently the girls didn’t have the same opinion of the matter as I
did.
Cover girl Leah Darby seems relieved, on page 1, to be out of
her “holy joe bra.” I figure, at worst, the girls’ discomfort was good
revenge for all that “fashion” underwear we men were sold over the
years. My balls never grew to their proper size because I spent all my
teenage years wearing the stuff, hoping to impress some girl.
(Unfortunately no girls were ever interested in seeing me without my
jeans on, so what sort of fashionable, ball-hugging underpants I was
wearing never came up.)
There are good ways to get hold of a girl, however. On page 3
you can see my latest attempt. It worked. It’s called a net. I caught
Bethany Lorraine in it. One minute she was undressing for her bath, and
the next she was a “guest” of holy joe. And my net. Now if only I
could get her untangled from the damn thing, I could actually have sex
with her.
Not that I believe girls are only good for having sex, though.
They need to work too. My friend holy shit, who rides motorcycles, but
hates working, put his girlfriend to work. She has a job as a coal
miner. You can see her on page 10. At first the coal company said she
couldn’t work as a miner. But then holy shit offered to have her work
in the nude. So they relented. It worked out pretty good for women’s
liberation, in my opinion. All the coal miners quit hanging “girlie”
calendars down in the mine, because they could just look at holy shit’s
girlfriend. She sort of feels she’s getting the shaft, though. She
complains about having to wear high heels while she digs out coal.
That’s a girl for you. You let her wear nothing at all to work, and she
wants to go barefoot too.
Working or not, it’s a good idea once a year to report to your
doctor for a rectal exam. Gina Stasia does just that, on page 78. Here
at Fuck Decency we’re helping keep down the cost of medical care by
offering free rectal exams. Unfortunately we didn’t say, “girls only.”
The first day a bunch of fags showed up. And no girls. No females,
even. All day long I kept having to shove my finger up these guys’
asses, just so I wouldn’t have people say I didn’t do as I’d promised.
But, from now on, “girls only.” Okay? Note that “girls” doesn’t
include women. The last thing I need is for a bunch of 300 pound women
to show up tomorrow.
Playboy’s Book of Lingerie, $6.95. http://www.playboy.com
Review: Yep, there’s that holy joe underwear again. You can
see cover girl Holly Witt tearing off her panties on the front of this
issue.
Personally, I don’t think Holly Witt is very attractive. And
I’ve seen fashion magazines that have shown girls removing their panties
which looked much sexier. But it’s the effort that counts, right? In
any event, Holly does get her panties off. If you want to see what her
bush looks like, check out page 1. (Nice bush, Holly. It looks better
than your face.)
Uh, oh. I can hear it already. Some feminist, reading this
review, will say, “Men produce pornography so they can insult and demean
women.” Not at all. I’m just calling them as I see them. In the case
of Tiffany Taylor, on page 26, I don’t make insults. I grovel.
And I pray.
(Since lots of guys like Tiffany, perhaps you’ll pray with me:)
THE MOLESTER MEDLEY
(sung to the tune of “I’ve been working on the railroad”)
“I’ve been busy being a pedo
All the live long day.
I’ve been busy being a pedo
molesting away.
Touching little girls,
on their cunts and tits
Driving their mothers out of their
wits.”
hmmm. That’s not it. Some guy on the bus must have given me
that one. Just a sec.
THE TIFFANY TAYLOR POEM
“Ah Tiffany, thou art so pretty.
Especially thy hair
And down there
where
My eye doth dwelleth
on so little.
(and yet so much!)
Ah, thine legs,
Whoops! There go my eggs!
Thou art ruining my pants
Will people look askance?
When they see mine crotch?
Thou has botched
My date with Mary Sue,
Phi Beta from P.U.
I fear I’ll wind up single and old,
Sitting in the cold
With naught but thine photo to hold.
But ah, thine breasts!
One could hold feasts.
Would that I could do as I pleased
With thy bosoms
Instead of only with my pecker...
And now at last I gaze upon thy face.
It leaves Helen in disgrace.
Thou art not human!
But a temple.
I shall worship thee day and night.
All else shall take flight.
We shall be one!
Though I remain alone, and undone.
Pretty cool, huh? Drama, humor, the whole works. I figure if
Tiffany’s interested in bedding a poet, I’ll stand a real good chance.
Imagine having her lying next to me after we’ve had sex, while I recite
my greatest poems to her.
Tiffany, by the way, still lives with her parents. Recently
she came home real late from a date, and her dad insisted on spanking
her. You can see what happened, on page 26. She didn’t exactly like
getting a spanking. (She’s a big girl, after all.) But she loves her
dad and obediently reported to him (after getting some sleep). You can
thank our intrepid photographer holy moly for getting the shots of
Tiffany carrying her panties into her dad’s bedroom. Holy moly’s only
in second grade, so people don’t notice him much. He managed to climb
up the side of Tiffany’s house and shoot through a window. Thanks to
Playboy for printing the photos.
There’s some other good photos in this issue. On pages 16-21
you can see some pets that I’m gonna buy, when I get the money. Their
names are Lisa Boyle and Patricia Ford. They said if I’m willing to
feed them, and give them someplace warm, and buy them expensive
lingerie, they’ll play around my mansion for the rest of my life. Or at
least until they get bored. I figure that’s a pretty good deal.
Unfortunately I don’t have money to buy myself underwear, much less
expensive “Victoria’s Secret”-type underwear for them. But you never
know, someday the Internet may become a profitable place to make money.
In that case, Lisa Boyle and Patricia Ford are mine, okay? You can buy
yourself three kids, a wife, two dogs and a Ford Aerostar.
Be sure to mark November 18 on your calendar. It’s the day two
new Playboy newsstand special magazines are released: “Playboy’s Nudes”
(a great, irregularly published title) and, especially, “Playmates in
Bed!” If ever there was a title that summed up what God made females
for, that’s it.
AND IN THE END...
GOOD GOD! S E L L !
“Film-industry insiders are now confidently predicting that
‘Lolita’ will find a distributor in the United States.”
- The Economist, October 11, 1997, pg. 108.
-------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------
-Free e-mail subscriptions: No longer available due to mailbombing of
my Internet account(s) by right-wing Christians.
-Currently I am: roller39@mail.idt.net
-formerly I was andrewroller@sprintmail.com, roller66@inreach.com,
roller666@aol.com Read my complete works under these names by
going to: http://www.excite.com (Click on ‘newsgroups’ and search
under my various former screen names). (Also you can read irrelevant
bullshit posted by right-wing Christians.)
-Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated
-For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com
- Free plug: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/
-Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age
statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868
- JOIN the world’s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North
American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF 303 EMISSION
- Rice: Charlie Doze, October 25, 1997.
--
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