From: bgriffin@ic.sunysb.edu (Eli the bearded) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality Subject: Psycho Clam 1: (clam/vaginal, humor) Date: 17 Jan 1996 05:42:06 GMT [This has no basis within reality. Those who look for realism in this are crazier than I am.] The Adventures of Psycho Clam the Pansexual Bivalve by Eli the Bearded Part 1 Jennifer on the Beach Yeah, so I was wandering along the shore one day, soaking up the warm sun in the shallow water when I realized I was at a well populated beach. It has been a while since I've had some fun so I pushed myself ashore with my trusty pseudopod and there she was. Big, beautiful, and quite naked. She was lying there on a towel, real still. I figure it's the perfect chance. I pushed myself over. As I got closer I began to suspect that this one was not fat, but pregnant instead. I love the pregnant ones, the flavor is much mellower. Her legs were a little tight together for me to squeeze in, so I hoped that she was snoozing. A few good pushes, thanks to sun lotion's slipperiness, and I was right there at her pussy. I eased my `pod in and gave her a good stroke. Then I pushed about the clit some. She was starting to juice up, so I took a swipe and tasted. Jackpot. She was a preggie. I got down to work. I positioned my shell so that I could pinch a bit a flesh around the clit while still diving my `pod in the cunt. I found I could get a good rhythm going opening up the shell, pushing in as deep as I my pod can stretch, pulling a good lick of fluid back in my shell and then crunching down on the button. I was having a good old time and I bet she was too. Humans have this weird superstition about pregnant women. They like to avoid sex with them. I bet I was giving that woman her best time in months. Her legs began to tense and squeeze my shell shut, I had to fight to keep it open. That plus the quivering I could feel around me let me know that she was near or at her peak. I speeded my pace. After the orgasm comes a nice slow resolution which provide good lickings without the pressure from the tensed legs. Just then she must have awoken, because I heard a gasp. Then she pulled me out of her twat and heaved me back into the water. Good thing she got me pretty far out as the water broke the momentum and saved me from some serious harm. What an ungrateful wench she was. Elijah From: bgriffin@ic.sunysb.edu (Eli the bearded) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality Subject: Psycho Clam 2: clam/clam Date: 17 Jan 1996 05:43:45 GMT Part 2 Lady Whiteshell One of my best aquatic encounters was with a drop-dead- beautiful abalone who went by the name Lady Whiteshell. I don't know what happened to her, I haven't seen her in ages. Maybe she got harvested, these things happen, would be a shame though. The time I was with her was right after that huge storm when tides were very high and nobody saw sunshine for days. Light was making its way to us once more and one of the first things I saw was her. She was an eyeful and all the better to savor the sight of after that long darkness. I turned on the charm immediately. I am a good looking razorknife, if I say so myself, so the charm was just icing on the cake for her I am sure. A few strokes of the `pod across her shell top and one run round the rim and she had popped open a crack for me. I gave another once round to calm her down a little more and she loosened up. She dabbed her pseudopod out and I politely rubbed it and tasted the rubbings. She wasn't cod roe, but she was a fair sight better than any other mollusk I've had. She tasted me and seemed pleased. Formalities aside, we got down to business. We started with a mutual muscle rub: each of us deep in the other's shell massaging the back valve muscle. Delightful! Gradually our strokes were going all over each other in a smooth simple motion. We put our taste organs together and shared flavors. She released an egg with pride in a moment of ecstasy and sprayed the sphere with salty cum. We snuggled shell to shell for a moment, then I helped her stow the egg safely on the sea floor and we went in for a second round. We were pretty much used to each other's shell by know the sex was faster and more frenzied: full `pod massaging right at the start and a speedy jump to the tasting. We did linger on that a moment but then she released again. I gave the second one a good coat and we went to it again. We must have been there for hours rubbing, releasing, and fertilizing. Afterwards we shared a bite to eat slept together on the seabed. She went off foraging in the morning and while I did see her a few times afterwards we never got down to it again. What a babe. Elijah From: bgriffin@ic.sunysb.edu (Eli the bearded) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality Subject: Psycho clam 3: clam/penile Date: 17 Jan 1996 05:45:09 GMT Part 3 Jonathan of the Polar Bear Club It was a really cold day. Some of the tidal estuaries I have been known to visit were iced over. They don't do that often. So naturally, given the cold, I was very shocked to notice swimmers in the water around me. One in particular stood out. He was just wearing a loose pair of boxers and from my worm's eye view I could see his small shriveled cock. I like them small as they are easier for me to deal with. He looked kinda old though, so I wasn't sure if he would be able to get it up. I hadn't had a man in months, so I figured, what the fuck, give it a whirl. Took three tries, but eventually I managed to jump up and clamp on to his boxers. Either he didn't feel me or he didn't care. I hoped for the latter, as the former can be unpleasant when they clue in. I eased my way over to his cold-shrunk dick and tight-as-a- clenched-fist balls. I began rubbing my `pod all over the thing like it was a tongue. He was slow at first but then began to grow. In cold water like that a full erection is almost impossible, so I knew I was going to have to settle for soft-serve semen if I could work anything out at all. When he got up as much he was gonna get in that ice water, he was about three-quarters the length of my razorknife shell, which is the perfect size. I could push the cock into one half of my shell right into some soft organs, and get my taster near the his blow hole. I kept going with my pseudopod stroking his shaft and rubbing the head. I tasted a bit of his sweet precum oozing and then I knew I was in good shape to get a full load. I kept my `pod pace steady but upped the pressure, making sure to get the frenum hard. A young guy would have shot by now, but old folks take their time. And any guy swimming in that weather had to have only a few nerves left anyway. Eventually patience and persistence prevailed and I got my protein-sweet shell-full of the old boy's best brew. To make sure I got every drop of the jelly-fish-textured sauce I ran the tip of my `pod up the underside of his dick from base to tip twice. By the second time he had shrunk a lot and there really wasn't that much more coming out, so I released my grip, slipped free and fell back to the bottom. Oh sweet, release! Elijah From: bgriffin@ic.sunysb.edu (Eli the bearded) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality Subject: Psycho clam 4: clam/anal Date: 17 Jan 1996 05:47:15 GMT Part 4 Just in Justin O, it was a warm summer day that I found myself sat upon by a human. I had been snoozing close to shore to catch the warm sun on back when it happened. At first when I saw the g-string it wore, I thought it was a woman, but then I noticed the bulge in front and realized my mistake. I figured any guy wearing a g-string had to be gay and I figured, if he's gay, he likes it up the ass. So that's how I came to decide upon my course of action. Rimjob time. I whipped out my pseudopod and hastily burrowed a trench right under the crack splitting those hairless cheeks. I then splayed out my shell beneath the hershey hole. I remember thinking how great it would be to be an octopus right then: I could shove my beak into the ass and have a good grip on the up-front action. Those were heat of the moment thoughts, as I don't really care for prudishness of most octopi. I lay with nothing but a speck of water and a mere gesture of swimsuit separating my `pod from his sphincter. I ever so slowly reached up to push around the string. I did not want to startle the guy. I felt the natural resistance at first to my wrong-way entry to his one-way hole. The resistance was weak, though, like a well-trained gag-reflex. Quickly the muscles relaxed and I was at it. I stuck it deep but thin and pulled out choice bits of rich fatty shit. I felt a tension in the suit which had to mean that my man there was getting an erection. I let caution fly to the wind and probed him thick. I wiped up the chocolate around his rim in a way hat only a `pod can do. I bent my shell so far open it hurt just to get as much of my `pod in there as I could. I was bent past 180 degrees standing on shell's edge to get me in there. Then he moved I clamped shut on his buttocks to keep from being torn in half. I held tight both inside and outside as I felt myself lifted out of the water when he stood. He gripped me hard to pull me off but I was too tight. He let go to try to get a better grip and seizing my chance I pulled out and then sprang away from him back into the water. I got away safe and well fed. Elijah The whole idea germinated from seeing "Psycho Clam" as a handle.