As I was meandering slowly down the field one fine summer's hour, the most obnoxious, wet whore sarcastically rode me, stopping me in my tracks. "Look here," I said, rubbing my breast at him cleverly, "That was terribly naughtily of you. I demand an apology."
The whore flirted at me greedily and rode me again, this time with both legs.
"Excuse me!" I said, this time more seductivley. "Desist at once, or I shall be forced to kiss you. You're a very sexy whore, I must say."
"I can't stop," the whore said slowly. "You see, my mother was a prostitute, my father was big, and the trauma was just too much. I'm good as a sex pet, I'm sorry to say."
At hearing his tight story, I felt for him. But I touched the whore anyway and moved on.