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xmag.com : December 2004 : I Love Las Vegas

From: <hber1980@hotmail.com>

To: <viva@xmag.com>

Date: Mon, 01 Nov 2004

Subject: 300-word essay contest...


Here is my entry to the 300-word essay contest on, "why YOU should get to

eat pumpkin pie off my tits" (sic):


Yesterday I was sitting on my sofa with Exotic magazine in my left hand while whacking off with my right hand. I was beating off to your photo on page 16, whacking it to your short skirt and black boots. I was beating off to the curve of your nice ass and the way the light shimmered on your hot legs when suddenly the photo got blurry (I guess because my eyes crossed), then, "Wham", two big wads of cum shot clear over my head. Pretty impressive...tho' probably not impressive enough to win your contest. But it does raise an interesting point; could you please describe, in detail, the biggest cum shot you have ever seen (and please don't lie)?





viva responds...


Well, hber, you did win the contest. Curly came in a close second, but I preferred your more creative approach. However, if it was the pumpkin pie you were after, you've caught me at a bad time. I've embarked on a strict raw foods regimen--only fresh raw foods (and booze!) contact my insides or outsides. So, as a consolation prize, I will tell you about the biggest cum shot I've ever witnessed.

I was at my attorneys' on a rainy Sunday afternoon. One of 'em works way too hard and is kinda catholic about masturbation. Whenever I visit him he shuts the door to his office and before we can talk business he gropes and paws at me until finally I pull out his monstrous dick. I run my tight moist mouth up and down the shaft about three or four times and POW! there's cum everywhere, like snow flocking the trees in the midwest at Christmas.

On this particular day the load was so extreme that it filled my mouth, went up my nose, coated my hair, rained on my jacket and streaked my jeans. It was also all over him. Instantly, as if on cue, the jerk-off he works with summoned us next door to his office to meet a certain Private Investigator. I quickly mopped up what I could with the two Kleenexes left in the box and smoothed my hair. My attorney put his dick away.

We went and shook hands (just a little sticky) with the P.I. I had him light my cigarette and poured myself a shot of bourbon, very Chinatown. We chatted a bit and I noticed that the guy was looking a little starstruck. Hey, comes with the territory!

Finally my attorney and I went out for din-din. On the way out I checked myself in the mirror. There was, of course, a dollop of cum on my bangs.

At dinner I asked my attorney if he thought his private dick--being a private dick, after all--had noticed. Nah, he said, he didn't think so.

I just love attorneys.


Merry Christmas, Big Al.

xo viva





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