-1It was a lonely cold day. And it was raining. D was bored. His horse had long since died of exhaustion, from the long, long, long hard 'rides'. He had to stop in a cave, dripping wet and still bored out of his mind. Still cold and lonely, wishing for more company than his left hand.
"YOU DON'T APPRECIATE ME. I WORK SO HARD."
And D could only utter a sigh.
As he looked around the cave, he noticed something on the floor. It was an old magazine. One of the kind where women don't really wear anything.
"SMUT HOW I LOVE IT "
Again, D could only sigh. But he picked up the magazine for lack of intelligence conversation with his left hand. D found his right hand much much more comfortable. It didn't talk, it didn't nag like an old woman, it was smooth, the nails were short but rounded, all in all it was a pristine vision of a hand. But, maybe it wasn't as perfect as it seemed.
As D flipped through the magazine, he felt himself becoming aroused. As he flipped through, he could see bosoms of beautiful babes with their kimonos sliding off their bodies. Who could have left such a beautiful magazine behind? The contents of the magazine were certainly enough to arouse any normal man, but more than enough to arouse the dunpeal. He felt himself growing, little by little, but felt that he would soon have to satisfy himself. But as he turned the next page, SLICE...he got a paper cut across his right hand.
"Curses" he mumbled as he clenched his bleeding fist. The blood slowing dripping down his arm to drip onto the cave floor. D looked over at left hand, a plan slowly forming in his sex crazed mind. Quietly, D continued to pretend to view and enjoy the ladies. But curses the pain was growing below, and he needed to release himself soon. But with his right hand injured, could he acquire the pleasure he craved, like the bloodlust of the vampire hunter D?
Chapter Two: THE plan.
With the rain pouring on harder and harder, D knew he was trapped in the cave for the rest of the night. With the busty beautiful babes. And his right hand injured. D looked at left hand and realized...that he was snoring. Breathing in and out of that perfectly shaped mouth in the middle of his hand ...
Finger twitiches and little moans, alerted D to the fact that left hand was dreaming. It was time to put the plan into action, the plan he had spent for hours developing in his sex crazed mind since his right hand was injured. Slowly, D moved his left arm down to the swelling buldge, which had grown to an enormous height. It seems proportions mean nothing. D freed himself of his pantalones, springing forth the snake of life. D waited for the most opportune moment, when the snore was at it's loudest, and the mouth at it's largest. And slowly slid his member between the lips of left hand.
Left hand was dreaming an erotic dream involving D and his pantalones. All of a sudden he realized there was something in his mouth...and it wasn't his tongue. It was a foreign object, though the foreign object was something he had dreamt of for AGES.
Opening his eyes he realized that his dream...was incarnate D's eyes rolled back in lust and pleasure...
Left hand closed his eyes and fell into the moment.
In short, there was much penis gushing, a satisfied D, a horny left hand, and a stained magazine. Oh and some band-Aids. And lots of "I'MMA GET MY PIMP CANE "
The end.
Author's Note: We're drunk. Really drunk. We were wondering if someone wrote this before us...but apparently not. We know all of you are thinking it. Deal. Write us reviews. If you want a sequel, tell us– because we can AND WILL manage to get drunk again. Feel free to add onto it...IF YOU DARE.