A Quiet Day For Pericardium Surgery
We were walking in the desert. You were wearing the traditional desert exploring garb of absolutely nothing. I looked like prince Philip decided to become Irish and travel to Bangladesh for a long-term assignment as an anthropologist. We would stop every 15 minutes and I would lick the sweat off of you. I would do this incessantly and It would drive me into an exaggerated sexual fervor. Luckily, we did not waste much time as I have a propensity to prematurely ejaculate. So, we kept walking and wandering this massive desert. As some point you grew weary of the cycle we have gotten ourselves into and proposed a game. You suggested that we run off into the wide desert and look for an implement that could kill the other one. I was hesitant but then agreed it might be fun, but I really just wanted to watch you run naked through the hot unrelenting desert. So, we embraced and I licked the sweat off of you another time and we counted to 7104 and then we were off. You were magnificent running shining naked through the hot desert air. We ran for what seemed like minutes until you started running towards me with something in your hand. From the distance we had travelled I could not tell what it was. All I knew was that I was unarmed aside from my massive erection which as typical erections go did not involve my arms in any way.
You grew closer and closer to me on the horizon and my penis grew larger and larger. However, I knew you had an implement that could kill me, and I suspected that you’d wanted to kill me for some time, so I looked around to try and find something to combat whatever implement you had found on the desert floor. I could find nothing, the desert was empty and barren, which means empty, so it was a very redundant emptiness in this massive desert. Nevertheless, you kept getting closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and closer still! And closer and closer and closer again and closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and yet I could not decipher what you were carrying in your moist toned arms. All I could think of was the beautiful cascades of sweat rolling down your forehead, back, arms, legs, and privates. You ran so slowly towards me carrying something that seemed quite large as you got closer. I thought about running away either to find an implement or as some sort of self-preservation. But It’s hard to run with a massive erection so I started to masturbate.
Somehow, I had avoided getting sand from the massive sprawling desert inside my foreskin and it felt amazing to rub my enormous cock as you ran naked with a large implement in your hands. You were approximately one yard away from me as I was about to climax and spread my seed upon the dry barren earth below. As soon as I ejaculated your beautiful body was on top of me but instead of joining me in sexual bliss you bludgeoned me with your massive implement. Thankfully you’ve massive implement was not the same as my massive implement, which was my cock. No, you bludgeoned me with something much more pernicious than a fully erect and pulsating penis. You bludgeoned me with 1840s South African legal precedent. It hurt so good and your bludgeoned me so fervently that your sweat flew into the air and fell upon my body. It covered my face and my chest and my genitals. Combined with the bludgeoning this caused me to get another erection and I ejaculated again. But this would not deter you from beating me to death with 1840s South African legal precedent. And after three more ejaculations I was left dead on the floor of this vast empty desert.
I always presumed you put on clothes afterwards.