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Sunday, October 17, 2010

The Creamy Box Chronicles: The Tyme Traveler

, It was 22 past the hour as Tubalcane peered over at the clock. Tic-toc. Pants drop. Plop. Beat cock. As the Doctor laid back in the recliner breathless a panorama of intoxicating images danced through his head like a Trinidadian Jouvert mass camp. Tubalcane was aching to beat Tyme’s steel pan with the fat pussy duster, black basalt block buster. He couldn’t wait any longer for his lady of the night to return so he got up and went to her bathroom where she was taking a shower.






There, Tubalcane spotted the goddess’ silhouette through the smoky glass enclosure of her bathtub. Tymé was five feet four inches of sinful beauty, an erotic cream cum true. As she turned sideways the bass thumped through Tubalcane’s chest cavity like African drums of passion as he beheld her delectable Ritter Sport thighs. The gravity defying mass of Nubian flesh just below her lower back bulged with the agony of man’s desire. Tymé had dark brown hair with amber colored highlights. Her face boasted almond shaped brown eyes, exclamated by thick pouting lips behind Mac Shock-O-Late lip gloss which she bought on sale at Nordstrom’s.

Those lips loved Charms’ blow pops, especially sour apple. Whenever Tymé had one in her mouth she would stare at it intently, slowly pulling the candied sphere in and out of her mouth, passionately probing it with her tongue. Tymé would habitually suck her thumb as a child so her mom unwittingly bought her blow pops to stop the habit. Tyme wore a mask of callousness, but it was all just a front to hide the fear of intimacy that she secretly craved for—and deserved.




As a child her kindness and sensitivity was always mistaken for stupidity and weakness by her misogynistic overbearing dad. Always the darkest girl in her elementary school classes, her classmates tried to convince her that she was the ugliest of them all. Blessed with natural intelligence, Tymé knew that she was in fact the most beautiful, but nevertheless felt the need to constantly remind herself and her peers.



The Doctor felt the burden of his desire scrapping the humid air as he raced across the emerald tiles towards the enclosure. He thought that if he moved swiftly, and with stealth, perhaps he could sneak up and harpoon this mythical creature of unfathomable radiance with his burning spear. Tubalcane entered the enclosure much to Tyme’s surprise. She let out a shrieking yell before realizing that she was being joined by her late night guest.




What are you doin’? I told you to wait in the fuckin’ living room while I wash up. Get outta here, Nigga! Bounce!” Never minding Tyme’s humble expression of disapproval, the Doctor sought to appease the beast within by filling his hands and mouth with her full gourmet breasts. “I said…Oohh…oh shit. Mmmmmmm... Damn, you got a rubber Cane?” Tymé sighed as she jerked his monster cock to life with her small delicate hands. Without an answer he gently guided her onto her hands and knees. “You got rubber baby?” she whispered again, trying not to betray her anticipation of the naked cock she knew would enter her hot and moist fudge cavities.


Tubalcane considered himself astral royalty, and felt that it was his regal duty to convert the Haitian damsel’s common womb into an imperial Port-au-Prince. Tymé enthusiastically put her face down and spread her thick thighs to accommodate Doctor Tubalcane. The weight of his own fully erect penis aroused him even more as his trusty camel threaded the eye of her needle. Tymé was rocked by the pillar of black fire in her creamy portal, which proceeded at an alarming velocity, blazing her lubricous subway tunnel like a barbarous band of interstellar sun trains. Tymé was not expecting that Tubalcane's penis would be so hard, so fat and so long. “The best surprises always seem to sneak up from behind, don't they?” whispered the raw roughrider overwhelmed by Tyme’s moist and tender clutch.





And who could blame him? Tyme’s leaky faucet is tight enough to cave in a lead pipe and blow the pressure valve off a Zepplin boiler. Tubalcane slowly began to shape-shift into an anthropomorphic reptilian. His bright yellow eyes with the black vertical pupils were unblinking, as he exhibited the soul-piercing stare of one who knows. His mouth was wide open, allowing his ruby red forked tongue to flicker in the steamy air of the bath enclosure. Holding Tyme’s Liberty Bell breasts firmly, Tubalcane mounted her monster truck pussy and burned rubber lips as he rode her terror like Evel Knievel…

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