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Post by SuperRickyFuller on Jun 30, 2011 1:29:57 GMT
Akabusi sat in his Vauxhall Corsa as it passed through the car wash humming the theme tune from Record Breakers. All the windows were soaped up and no one could see in so, for the briefest moments, he thought about having a w*nk. But his two kids were in the back so he decided against it.
After dropping them off at school, Akabusi was at a loss as to how to fill his day. He was delivering a motivational speech to a bunch of spastics tonight in Stevenage so he didn't want to over do it. He felt a twinge in his back. It had been aching since him and John Fashanu had wrestled naked in front of a roaring fire at Fash's £128,700 mansion in Hemel Hempstead. Akabusi had smashed a porcelain bust of Justin and he had had to leave.
Before he knew it he was at a massage parlour and had paid his £10 entry. Before he could get to the changing rooms he slipped out of his pin stripe dungerees and could feel the fragrant steam of the sauna tickle his massive balls like a poacher under a trout.
He applied a towel to his lower torso, barely able to conceal his pulsating ebony fire hydrant. He stepped into the room and lay down on the pleather massage table pushing his face through the hole and letting his cock hang over the side.
Behind him the door opened and Akabusi's pussy senses were raised to Severe. The aroma of chicken and sweetcorn soup and Morecambe Bay cockles hit him like a steam train and he knew right then that he would sire another child.
Small hands covered in oil began to explore his muscular, Nigerian coffee coloured bodywork. As the girl's hands reached his proud buttocks he tried everything in his power to conceal a huge fart he had been brewing since he'd parked in the multi storey car park.
When the girl slipped a greasy little finger up his April he let out a yelp and nearly roared "Awooga" but he stopped himself. The hands of the girl motioned him to turn over, which he duly did.
His eyes found a young Chinese girl wearing a little white tunic which he knew concealed a pair of juicy little bristols and almost certainly a clunge as ripe and yellow as a week old banana. As he lay on his back, blood rushed into his veiny Tower of Pisa quicker than Asians into a Cash And Carry at 8.59am. He lay there looking like a chocolate drawing pin as the girl starting applying more and more oil. He was so hard and tall that he worried slightly that the price of oil may be affected by his erection.
Her tiny hands kneeded his giant oak and at one point Akabusi half thought she was an Ewok trying to climb a Giant Red on Endor. He leapt up and ripped open her tunic revealing, as he had suspected, a gorgeous set of two tits, nipples as dark as Green and Black 70% and a pussy so wet and hairless he was reminded of Duncan Goodhew.
He dived into her like a released rapist and set about plunging into every orifice that was available and some that were not. Within hours he was on his vinegars and let rip with such a gush of spunk that the poor girl tried in vein to make a call to the Morecambe Bay coastguard.
Spent, sweating and panting Akabusi untangled his yawning plonker and slipped on his dungerees. The girl, who later from police reports he found was called Hi Tide Run, lay on the floor, a shredded mess of manfat, baby oil, matted hair and rice. Akabusi looked at his Casio watch/calculator and saw that the spastic thing started in 20 minutes. He bent down over the Chinese meal he had just demolished, whispered "Awooga" in her ear and patted her on the fanny
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Post by SuperRickyFuller on Jun 30, 2011 12:31:39 GMT
Akabusi scaled the walls of the £756,000 Sussex mansion with all the stealth of a gekko on a Mallorcan shower wall. As luck would have it the window was open. He dropped in and slipped out of his dungerees and let the cool air caress his polished ebony skin.
The house was quiet. He looked into one room and saw the sleeping Peter Andre - without the wig and wax on his face he was rather beautiful. But Akabusi wasn't into arses. Not today.
He heard a noise coming from the bathroom. He ran along the landing, his giant cock swinging in the air like Saddam on Youtube. He looked into the bathroom and saw a mad little f**ker, big as a barrel and blind as a bat leaping up and down in some boiling water.
"Akabusi!" said a voice behind him. "Stop looking at my son with your cock out".
Akabusi slowly turned around and saw Katie Price in front of him - wearing nothing but a Juicy Couture camisole and the slightest glistening of her ample clunge.
As ever Akabusi's cock became harder than the Guardian cryptic and proceeded to bang her tits off as Harvey ate a bag of Prawn Cocktail crisps from the floor that Akabusi had brought just in case.
Before Akabusi left he wiped his now dying cock on Harvey's afro, bent down to the prone Jordan, who lay liked a painter's radio in the moonlight, and whispered "Awooga" in her ear and patted her on the fanny
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Post by Nyron Nonceworthy on Jun 30, 2011 12:35:44 GMT
Quite simply, some of the funniest things ever written.
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Post by Campervan Von Bigglesworth on Jun 30, 2011 12:41:19 GMT
is it true??
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Post by SuperRickyFuller on Jun 30, 2011 12:42:49 GMT
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Post by Campervan Von Bigglesworth on Jun 30, 2011 12:44:32 GMT
I bet him and Konnie Huq from Blue Peter would make an excellent lovers guide type celebrity filthy sex couple
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Post by whydelilah on Jun 30, 2011 15:30:02 GMT
Akabusi had had a shit day. He'd spent the morning with his accountant Harvey Goldenblum and to put it bluntly he was fucked. He had made some very bad investments in the last tax year - a bus tour for Tourettes sufferers to the Vatican had ended in an international situation and his collection of dildos modelled on his own gigantic black cock had gone into raw materials problems.
His plans to put on a production of Towering Inferno on Ice with Colin Jackson in the lead role had been dashed. Two people drowned in rehearsals and the family were after him for compo.
After a runwank in the park he decided to go to the zoo. He loved the zoo, it was full of animals throwing their own shit and spunk around. It reminded him of home.
He wandered around the near empty zoo, his denim dungerees gently rubbing up against his slick, toned jet black skin and making his veiny python twitch like Ali at an Olympic opening ceremony.
He bypassed the chimps, they disgusted him and he made his way to the elephant enclosure. When he got there he spied that there were no punters around so let slip his dungerees and exposed his naked skin to the cool air of this January afternoon. As he stood there looking like a chocolate tripod, an observer may have mistaken this figure for a baby elephant. With two legs. And who was black.
As per usual, he hopped over the railings, briefly feeling the barb wire scrape his heavy ball sack like nails down a blackboard. As he landed he heard a voice "Oi, you. Get the fuck out of the elephant enclosure, you fucker".
Akabusi had only been caught at the zoo once before when he had sat in the reptile area and had several unsuspecting nuns stroke his throbbing colossus. As he turned he saw a female games keeper, her coarse khaki shirt and shorts clearly concealing epic bristols and he hoped at least one usable hole.
"Oh, it's you, Kriss" she said in a voice as smoky as Roy Castle's lungs. As she told him off, Akabusi knew she was looking at his pumped torso and his increasingly engorged black magic. He knew also that she was becoming more turned on and wet than a homosexual at a Barrymore pool party.
"You better put that away" she said pointing her rake at his cock. "It's making Mumbles the elephant jealous".
Within a split second he ripped open her khaki shirt to expose two huge tits that were so hard and muscular you could put them on a nightclub door and there would be no trouble. "Why don't I hide 'this' up your clunge!" roared Akabusi like a black panther with his nuts caught in a slammed Tom Clancy novel.
The zookeeper let slip her shorts letting the air attend to a pussy so hairy it looked like a mammoth with labia for legs. Peeping out from the bush was a clitorus so big and meaty it wouldn't have looked out of place hanging on a hook in Smithfields. Akabusi hadn't seen anything like it since he'd been "surprised sexed" by Judy Oakes.
Within seconds his ebony trunk became more full of blood and muscle than the aftershow at Britain’s Strongest Man.
Akabusi took a deep breath and plunged into her hole like Albanians through the Chunnel. Her skin was so rough it was like having angry sex with a sander going at full pelt, but Akabusi loved it. He loved it rough. And this was rough.
Around the zoo animals scurried for cover, some even choosing to leave and join the circus with Jeremy Beadle, as Akabusi and the zookeeper’s cries rocked the trees and cages like a bunch of Jews at an adulterer trial.
Within a matter of hours it was all over, the zookeeper’s body lying strewn on the straw, a pile of spunk, hair, muscle and animal feed. The zookeeper mustered her last remnant of strength and rolled up her clit and crawled away from Akabusi.
Akabusi bounded to his feet, his spirits enlivened by this classic intercourse. “Fuck the tax man!” he thought. If he wanted to fund another musical based on the life of Daley Thompson he fucking would. He wrestled his seeping cock back into place as he pulled his favourite dungarees on. He caught up with the escaping keeper by following her trail of clunge suds and bent down and whispered “Awooga” in her ear and patted her on her fanny.
The End.
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Post by Gaz Turner on Jun 30, 2011 18:00:38 GMT
I fucking love these
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Post by spunkbubble on Jun 30, 2011 20:56:44 GMT
xenophobia and anti-sematisim is there really any need ?
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Post by SuperRickyFuller on Jun 30, 2011 21:29:18 GMT
Akabusi was uncomfortable unless he was wearing a pair of dungerees or stark bollock naked so he walked into the Jimmy Savile Row tailors with trepidation. He needed a new suit for a Tanni Gray Thompson testimonial he was speaking at.
"If you could slip out of your dungerees, Mr Akabluisi" entoned the fay tailor. "It's Akabusi" said Akabusi as his laugh filled the cluttered shop like an arsehole on creampie.com.
Kriss let the straps of his denim dungerees snap and the fabric rushed passed his polished espresso chassis leaving him standing naked. The rarefied air of the tailors brushed against his black and curlies like a fart in a tanga brief and for a moment he felt like a black Messiah.
"Miss. Portensa will measure you up" said the tailor as he disappeared out back for a tug and a weep.
Portensa strolled into the room and immediately Akabusi felt a twinge in his king size plonker. She was wearing a little black dress which he knew concealed a fantastic pair of tits and almost certainly a clunge so tight it shopped at Poundland.
"Just relax, Mr Abakuski, while I measure your inside leg" she said with a French accent richer than a Guinness sh*t. As Kriss felt the cold metal of the tape measure climb up his leg, he could feel his black boa fill with blood quicker than tampon on the first day.
Before he knew Miss Portensa was handling his growing concern like Pat Jennings. She pulled apart her dress to expose her smooth white skin, epic bristols and a fanny more hairy than Richard Keyes back.
He ploughed into her like a tighthead forward and plunged his now diamond hard cock into her like he was staking Dracula. Within hours it was over, Miss Portensa a useless pile of tit, minge and spunk and Akabusi panting and sweating like a multiple rapist.
Akabusi rolled up his mickey and pulled on his dungerees. "What about the suit Mr Abakusi?" breathed Portensa.
"f**k it. I'll wear me dungerees. It's only Tanni f**king Thompson" roared Akabusi as he bent down over her bloodless torso, whisphered "Awooga" in her ear and patted her on the fanny
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Post by rhodesy on Jul 1, 2011 1:43:48 GMT
You freaks.
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Post by PenkhullStokie on Jul 1, 2011 1:51:40 GMT
Can we do requests?
I'd like Mr Akabusi to meet his next shag in the shops.
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Post by SuperRickyFuller on Jul 1, 2011 2:12:08 GMT
Says the chunky daywalker
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