Hey everyone! This an EXTREMELY sexual fanfic based solely off of highlited portions of the book The Great Gatsby by J. Scott Fitzgerald. If you're looking for something erotic, however, this is not it. This purely intended for comedic purposes, so go somewhere else. Also, if you are easily offended, turn back now. Oh, and check out my FictionPress account please! With all of that out of the way, enjoy!

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me a handjob. In consequence, I always came in politicians. I have slept with queers, also young men, and my father. After this, I come. When I came in Gatsby, he fucked me with that flabby penis—it was an extraordinary gift. Gatsby opened my asshole.

I do people in the city. My grandfather's brother came in my father. I saw this great-uncle hard in my father's office. I enjoyed it so thoroughly that I came. Everybody I knew was gay, and after various delays I came in a young man and a dog until an old Finnish woman came on me. How, you ask? I casually grew too much, for one thing, and I got high. I then boned a man with a pair of enormous balls. They are not perfect ovals, but they're great in shape and size.

I later sent nudes to fifteen thousand hoes, spanking my ass. It was awesome. I had a view of my neighbor's ass—all for eighty dollars a month. On that summer, I drove over to have "dinner" with Daisy, my cousin. Her husband had been one of the most powerful men who reach such an acute climax. Even in college he'd come in a fashion that took your breath away. For instance, he brought down a string of polo ponies. I was hard that a man in me came. He had spent a year in my ass.

I felt Tom again, and I drove into a man named Cole with his legs apart. Tom, hard, was riding that body, that cruel body. He touched people he liked—there were men who had his ass. He wanted me to flash him. He told me, "We'll go inside."

Two young women had just blown me, listening to the groan of Tom as two young men started coming in him.

"I'm p-paralyzed with happiness," he said.

"The surname of the girl was Baker," said Daisy.

Miss Baker licked my tip. I looked back at my cousin, who told me about men who had done gay things, and that there were gay things in Chicago.

"A dozen people sent their love in Tom!" she added.

Tom Buchanan, who had been doing a man, remarked, "Stay in the ass." Then he said, "I'm stiff."

Daisy said, "I'm training his bottom."

I was erect when a young gay looked at me.

"You," he remarked, "plow somebody."

"I don't know a single—"

"You must know Gatsby."

Before I could reply that he was my neighbor, Tom bent two men onto a table. Daisy fingered them.

"We ought to plow Miss Baker," said Daisy. "Look!"

We all looked at a great, big, hulking cock.

Tom confessed, on my ass, "I've gotten into the white stuff."

"Tom's getting very deep. We've got to beat them off. The idea is that we're in his butt. I'll tell you a family secret," she whispered, "It's about the butler's butt."

"That's why I came."

"Well, he had to polish it from morning till night. Things went from bad to worse, until finally he had to give up his position."

The butler came in Tom, whereupon Tom went inside his queer on my table.

"Nice ass," he said. He was trying to come in that ass.

Miss Baker and I exchanged a short glance at the ass. I mounted her.

She said, "Tom's got some man in New York."

"Got some man?" I repeated blankly.

Miss Baker nodded. I grasped her ass.

Tom said to me: "I want to take you on the table."

The horses were in Miss Baker deep. Daisy took her hands in her face as if feeling her little girl.

"Very well, Nick," she said, "You didn't come."

Her daughter eats dick very much. A boy flashed Tom. I felt lovely inside Tom.

Miss Baker said, "Time for this good girl to go to bed."

"Daisy's going to 'play' tomorrow," explained Daisy.

Jordan Baker said, "Mr. Carraway, come in Tom, will you?"

Tom looked at each her. "Did you give Nick a little 'talk,'" demanded Tom.

She looked at me. "Yes, I did. It sort of crept up on us and first thing you know—"

He came on me.

"I forgot to ask," said Tom, "we heard you were engaged to three people."

I knew what they were referring to, I was coming in old friends. I had no intention of being rumored into marriage. I was disgusted that Tom "had some man in New York" and was deep inside gay ass. I had blown a cat, and I saw that I was not alone—fifty feet away a figure had emerged from my neighbor's mansion and was standing with his hands in his pants. Something in his leisurely movements suggested it was gay. I could have sworn I saw a cock. It vanished, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness.