Notes

My name is Schartzmugel Helgis, and I have a form of irregular heartbeat not caused by a heart valve problem. I’m a librarian at the University of Phoenix. I like to think of myself as a kind, passionate woman. However I am very ugly. I have no friends, they all died in the accident. Now that you know a little bit about me and how much of a bitch I am, let’s get on with the sex:

I observe my body as I stand before the mirror. Brown hair falls past my shoulders and glistens in the light, like nose hairs after a sneeze. My pants are down at my ankles, I have just finished relieving myself from intense bowel movements. The toilet flushes and I am exhausted, my face still burns a hot red from all the clenching. People tell me I should eat more fiber, but I never listen. I am perfectly fine with some occasional constipation. The swirling torrent in the toilet stops, and silence fills the room in a heartbeat.

“How was your poop, Honey?” a strong, deep voice asks from the other side of the door. I hesitate to respond, stumbling on what to say, and silence reenters the room. “I heard you grunting and screaming again. Are you sure you’ve been eating enough fiber?” His voice is soft and compassionate this time, melting away any tension there was prior.

“Yes, baby.” Quickly I pull up my pants and open the door. He stands leaning against a wall, his eyes on mine. I go to him, leaving the bathroom light on. I haven’t yet washed my hands, but it’s alright. I know he likes me dirty.

Without any words spoken, he quickly and aggressively pushes me up against the wall. As his parted lips meet mine, I feel the poke of his micro-erection against my waist. His breaths quicken, flowing down my back. His mustache tickles me in the most pleasant way. The critical mass needed to maintain the powerful energy did not only rely on our actions, but in our words. “Fuck me, Angus. Fuck me harder than your dad.” The moment I finished my sentence, I am thrown into the air by the hold of his powerful and sweaty ogre arms. He carries me to the bedroom and, without warning, thrusts me hard onto the bed. He must have forgotten it’s a water bed, because it bursts under me and I bounce off. It’s okay though, because I’ve been waiting all day for him to caress my clitoris with his glands, and so we continue without hesitation.

There is a hair that lies just on the very tip of his wee-wee. This often tickles the insides of my lonely body. I pee down his legs as he gently inspects my body. He begins to lick the urine off my leg, slowly, starting from the foot, making his way to the you-know-where (HINT: it’s the vagina). Little does he know that pee actually comes out of a different hole, not the vagina. He starts to place his beastly fingers inside the hole in which the urine came out. Tears begin streaming down my face as my pee-pee hole is suddenly ripped open. “Angus, that’s the wrong hole!” I manage to choke out.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing when it comes to pee holes.” He says in his deep and masculine voice. Unexpectedly, he thrusts his entire arm into my body. I scream with fright and sexual pleasure. “YOU KNOW I LIKE THAT GOOD SHIT” I scream at the top of my lungs. I only yell because of the intense agony, but it hurts too good to stop. Yet, despite all that has been taking place, he had not once made a sound other than what he said to me. I start to question myself and doubt overflows in my mind. Am I doing it wrong? Does he not like me? And as if he read my thoughts, he starts to make whale calls very loudly. “I’m going to digest your vaginal discharge,” he mutters violently through clenched teeth. Determination shows in his eyes as he throws me down onto my back, pinning my shoulders with his mighty Shrek-like arms.

So much time had seemed to go by without me even realizing. I look at the clock and noticed that we had been going at it for a full three minutes. A new record.
His penile injections slowly start to increase in speed. I can tell he is about to finish. His penis slaps me in the face as he pulls it out of my vaginal area. I can’t tell which hole he was in because my whole private area was numb from his wrath.

Finally, we are finished. I now lay on my back, my head against his chest. I listen to every heartbeat that throbs in his torso. I lately seem to wonder about this man and our star-crossed love. The sex, as you have just witnessed, is phenomenal, but do I really love him?

Suddenly the door knocks. Panic rushes through me like the poison from a snake. I get up quickly, wearing nothing but a fedora and an old Nickelback t-shirt I managed to find on the floor. I walk slowly to the door and place a firm grip on the handle. As I open the door, I am surprised to find Morgan Freeman, standing there naked in the hallway, a jar of vaseline cradled between his legs. “If you could please meet me down in the lobby, that would be wonderful.” He then tells me, “Perhaps a chat over some expired milk?”
I stare into Morgan’s dreamy eyes, then dart my eyes back to Angus. Once you go black, you never go back. Angus looks sexually stimulated like never before, and asks “Can I join baby?” Of course I can’t turn down Angus, he is my lover. Then, Morgan gives a slight nod, and he vanishes into thin air.

We go down into the lobby to find Morgan sitting in an old, dusty red chair. Angus and I sit down together across from him in an arctic white couch. The waitress that works the lobby pours my man and I some coffee. Morgan has already been served; he sips from his coffee mug. “Mister and Miss, there is something I need to talk to you both about,” he tells us. I look to Angus with excitement, and back to Morgan. With a whisper, I say, “Enlighten us.”

Without words he slyly pulls out an envelope from his already too tight pants. The contents inside of the envelope are completely unknown to me. He slowly opens the envelope with delicate, oily fingers. From it he pulls out an old cheese stick. Mold and fungi cover the surface of the item, revealing a gut-wrenching stench that quickly fills the lobby. He begins to eat it, staring deeply into our eyes. I wanted to ask him what the pressing matter was, but before I could say anything he was gone in the blink of an eye, likely travelling through a wormhole. After a moment of silence, Angus whispers in my ear, “what do you say we go choke the cat?” I don’t understand him but I become immensely horny. We go back to the room.

We start to continue in our sexual matters, and decide to take it up a notch. He takes a bottle of hot sauce from the refrigerator and pours it into my anus. It burns like a swamp, but I would do anything to please my lover. I open up his urethra, and pour salt and lemon juice into the opening and watch tears form in his eyes. I then release fecal matter straight into his mouth. He swishes it around until it became a complete pureed liquid. I bring out the paper shredder.

Before we can continue, Morgan Freeman appears again, this time he is sitting crosslegged on Angus’s face, naked, with a jar of vaseline still cradled in his legs. “So, you thought you could continue without me?” Morgan says, his eyes filled with hatred.
“I can’t breathe!” Angus screams, his words muffled by Morgan’s tight buttocks. I look to Morgan and back to Angus, unsure of what to do.

“Come with me, Schartzmugel” Morgan says. “Come with me through a wormhole where we can have rough sex for ever.” Morgan’s tone is an unnerving mixture of angry and horny. But oh, he turns me on. I look into his deep, sexy eyes, and I imagine ourselves having sex in the wormhole, millions of lightyears away from here. But then I look at Angus, still struggling for breath. My lover. The man that can make me orgasm, bleed, and secrete vaginal discharge like no one I’ve ever met before. I know what I must do.

I start to toward Morgan, looking him in his eyes, which are affectionately locked on mine. “I knew you wanted me” he says. My pace quickens, my right hand balls into a fist. Then, with all the energy in me, all the power that my prior rough sex has given me, I deliver a mighty blow. I thrust my fist hard into Morgan’s genitals, and feel as his erection gives way. He releases a mighty howl, like the scratching of a thousand nails on a thousand chalkboards. The room begins to shake from the intensity of his wail. Morgan falls, then vanishes, once and for all, into thin air.

Silence fills the room. Angus gasps for breath, and looks up at me with some of Morgan’s poop left over on his face. “Now that was kinky.” He stands up and embraces me, and I can feel the poke of his micro-erection once again. I cannot wait for some more rough sex.