Illicit Rendezvous

OK, OK, I'm really ashamed of this, but I came across it in an old file, and it seemed just too good to pass up - hence I'm passing it along.  
Oh, those were the days.

Best wishes, Lary Harris

To the foreplay of signal lights across the horizon, the innocent virginal destroyer caught the glance of the decrepit, lecherous oiler, his sensuous red deck lights glimmering passionately as she waited, quivering with anticipation, for him to dip his ROMEO, so she might hastily rush alongside his virile, erect king posts with their enormous, black, well hung hoses.
His black boot topping gleamed brazenly as he lashed out with his shot lines, the silent messengers of sadistic pleasures yet to come.  With saddle whips whistling, chains jangling, wires whining, he spanned the distance and bound her fast as she felt the pulsations of his ram being tensioned.
She quivered with anticipation, her receiver anxiously desiring his ever extending hose, its well used, wrinkled, leathery, foreskin like surface rising and falling with the eternally undulating undercurrents as his ecstatically squealing trolleys brought his JP-5 engorged probehead ever nearer to her well lubricated, anticipating receiver.
With a final, powerful, lunging thrust, he penetrated and skillfully lodged his enormous probehead firmly betwixt her slippery, squirming opening, as she cried, "Pump, Pump, Pump!", writhing in bondage beside him.

As his turbines whined, he felt the ever increasing pressure pound within his bowels.  The enormous swaying hose stiffened with a resounding snap.

"It's coming, It's Coming!" she cried, as she sensed his vile, odoriferous juices pouring faster and faster, forcing their way through her too tight constrictions, overflowing, dribbling enticingly from her snatch blocks.

"How about a blow down?" he crooned, "Or maybe a back suction?"

"Oh no!" she cried distraughtly, "I never dreamt of such lurid things!"

"But I must," he responded lustfully, "Or I'll drip when I pull out!"
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