Oh man. "You can't play with a sacred history and turn it into soft core pornography." Oh no?
Lt. Uhura moaned softly as Jesus' took her from behind. His thick, circumcised member plunged in to the hilt, and she felt him shudder with pleasure and longing.And they all lived happily ever after.
"Oh, yes!" she cried, "There is no way to the father but through me, bitches."
But Jesus couldn't reply. Even as began to pump her slowly, holding her narrow waisthipsin his strong hands, Mohammed, who was perched above and beside them on the arm of the couch, maneuvered Jesus sweet, pouty lips to his own turgid cock. As Jesus gently drew back the supple foreskin with his mouth and flicked his tongue across the throbbing head, Mohammed hit his blunt again and breathed out in his deep baritone, "Oh, yeah baby, that's the shit . . ."
Across the room, staring back at Lt. Uhura as a pale mirror image, Legolas gaped as Vishnu's first hand penetrated . . .
14 comments:
Narrow hips? Whatchu talkin' bout, Willis?
Brother, I'm a homo and even I can recognize a 36-22-36. I know you kids like to wear your pants down low these days, but a hip is a hip.
Man I am stoned and totally talking about waist and saying hips.
The secret passions of religious conservatives... My, our tastes are perverse, aren't we?
Oh well. I guess I'd watch it if it was on HBO, so maybe I have no room to judge.
Jesus: top, or bottom?
Chthulu's mom:
Power bottom, natch
That kind of post can get you shot.
By me.
I don't need the competition. Blasphemy is already a crowded racket.
This post is blasphemous and outrageous -- it should read, "But Jesus couldn't reply. Even as began to pump her slowly, holding her narrow waist hips in his strong hands, Mohammed (PBUH), who was perched above and beside them on the arm of the couch, maneuvered Jesus sweet, pouty lips to his own turgid cock.
Aaaaaand close quote.
All at once, a commotion at the door: three knocks in quick succession. "Rap-rap-rap." Jesus tried to ignore it, kept stroking away at the heavenly communications officer as God's Prophet sent love juice streaming in rivulets over His sparse Semitic beard. "Who could that be?" he croaked, throat still a bit sore. "Kali, do you mind?"
A hand snaked out, came to rest on the knob. A thin voice like death: "Password."
"Hope and change," came the reply from the other side. "Muhammad, baby, come on, it's your boy."
With a scream of rage so high-pitched it was almost inaudible, Kali wrenched the door off its hinges. Vishnu withdrew his hand daintily from the tight elfin hole. Jesus sullenly drew his robe around a rather unimpressive erect member dripping with space-age African juices. A pile of black-suited men, who'd apparently been leaning against the door, landed beside the sacred orgiasts. Kali started flinging them one by one against the far wall. Suddenly, a voice was heard from their midst.
"Hold on! Cut it out! My name is Barack, and I'm running for... well, you know. Can I count on your vote?"
that's softcore?
Man, the world needs more Abrahamic/multitheistic/Roddenberry fanfic.
I'm glad I found someone that shares my opinion of fairy tales, Bronze-age mythology and Lamarckian japery.
Only part that doesn't seem quite right (after the waist-hips correction) is Mohammed's (PBUH) foreskin -- I understood that Muslim men are also circumcised.
Yeah... Either it's a point or an error.
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