I've masturbated since I was 12yo and I never really do it quite right, so maybe you could give me a hand

I skipped an Xbox like a smooth stone across the blue water of the toilet bowl, seven skips, beat that. Flushed and walked into the lobby of the hotel, sat down in the purple leather bucket seat of a Jaguar SSX, right next to Kelly Preston, and turned on the blender. She said hi, but I couldn't hear her because of the blender, so she spoke louder, and I said sorry about Jet, and she cried, and her eyes were red and puffy. Women are always crying. I gave her some steroids and I fucked her swollen eyelids like two meaty labia flaps. The tears made her really wet. I slid down the fireman's pole onto the roof of the White House. Black people live in there, and that made me happy. I jumped from roof to roof all over D.C. then swam through the clouds but a jet engine chopped me up into tiny tiny bits and the clouds rained the tiny tiny bits of me into a puddle on a wall inside a church where the tiny tiny bits of me coagulated like drops of oil floating in a pot that isn't boiling yet. It feels so good to be so close again.


~O~