Nardicio (Part 4 of a 12 part series of erotic fiction)

Suddenly, there was blackness. As he slowly pulled it from his yowling cavity, Nardicio’s gigantic member had actually blocked out the sun.
It was like the big space ship in the first scene of star wars, except it was a dripping velvety monster unlike anything Frederick D’angelo had ever taken inside his body.
Nardicio plunged deep into him again and again, making him pant as he compressed his diaphragm against him sternum.
Nardicio was actually licensed to administer CPR this manner.

As Frederick fell into unconsciousness, Nardicio turned his attention to Lisa Bonet, who was also there. He fell upon her vagina like Edward scissorhands making a shrub shaped like an oozing pussy. She literally exploded into a ball of flames so he moved on to her roommate, a young co-ed who couldn’t have been a day over 36.

Using her vagina as a handle of sorts he carried her to his waiting motorcycle.
They took a leisurely six hour drive up the Hudson as she sucked him off.
He liked it and she enjoyed the way his manhood was engorged. She removed his extremely wide penis from her mouth.
“Slap flap.” went his manmeat.
“Pull over. Now”. He hit the brakes on the motorcycle as her thumb went mightily up his asshole and he came explosively.
The inertia of the skidding motorcycle doubled the velocity of his Jizm and there was a loud clap as it broke the sound barrier all over her delicate Japanese face.
She giggled as she bent over and he gave her two quick penis thrusts to the vagina while she changed her Facebook status to single.
He howled as he came again, giving her a semen tramp stamp  that read “Nardicio was Here”
She thwapped a pickle from their picnic lunch between her soggy thighs.
Nardicio stared at her as his cock rose like the speedometer on his vintage hog.
He fucked her with it.

After their rowdy lovemaking they enjoyed lunch. A nice bruschetta she had lovingly prepared with a greek olive tapenade, fresh chopped garlic and the slightest hint of shaved truffle.
They followed this with a ’72 Bordeaux. Then came the smoked trout on home-baked wheat crisps and a rich polenta he had prepared using sweet corn and served with clotted cream.
When they finished the meal he took the remainder of the clotted cream and using a piece of dry ice he had brought, and the bottle of Bordeaux he fashioned a lickable buttplug
which he inserted slowly into her pulsating sphincter. As she crawled around like a naked scorpion, she cried out “What are you? Fucking Macgyver?”
“No” He laughed.

Suddenly in an ironic twist of fate Richard Dean Anderson jumped out of a passing yacht with his huge cock,
the head of which was like a plum in both size and color, but like a penis in the way he used it to fuck her.

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