CRS
Chandler, Arizona, United States

There's an old saying. If you don't want someone to join a crowd, you ask them, "If everyone were jumping off of a cliff, would you?" Well, I have. So my answer would be "Yes". True story.
Profile continued . . .

ARCHIVES!
Sex With Marilyn Monroe

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

this entry brought to you by nirvana, "verse, chorus, verse"





I went back in time and had sex with Marilyn Monroe. Turns out she's quite a beast. She tossed me on the bed despite her diminutive size, and jumped on top of me, ripping off my clothes and then hers. She was like a robot, a robot that was programmed to fuck with a vengeance and didn't know how to do anything else but fuck with a vengeance. She rode me like a jackhammer, growling, "What's my name? What's my name?"

"Uhm, Marilyn Monroe?" I stammered.

"It's Norma Jean, bitch!" And when she orgasmed she scrunched her face up as tight as it would go, making crinkles in her face that didn't exist before, and crammed her eyes, pistoning up and down, grunting with fury, "Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh, ungh, ungh, uuunnnnnnnnnnnnnnngh!"

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to walk into her boudoir, and the light would be flowing into the room in a heavenly stream of light, and as she would disrobe gently, angel's wings would spread from out of her back, and she would take me into her arms and put my head between her bosom. Doing it was supposed to be like the softest, softest downy getting you off. At worst it might've been awkward and boring, as it is on every celebrity sex tape. But this. This was traumatizing.

She had finished and rudely pulled herself off of me with an audible plop, and she stammered off to the bathroom, where she proceeded to loudly urinate with the door open, the sound echoing in my head, and then, once done, clearing her throat of phlegm for a moment. She got up without the toilet even flushing and she fell into bed, kissed me wetly and as if with obligation. "Listen," she said with her sultry voice having returned from screaming banshee, "I have to be out of the house by 6 in the morning. You can spend the night but... yeah, you'd want to go ahead and be gone by then." And with that, she rolled over and, after a moment, let out a loud, motor like snore. I didn't get a wink of sleep all night.

Incidentally, I happened to run across Jack Kennedy before leaving Marilyn Monroe's house. He stopped by and asked if she was still sleeping, said he'd managed to slip past the secret service and wanted to know if she was available. I thought about warning him about Dallas, but I decided against it. That whole space/time continuum thing and all.
------



with love from CRS @ 9:11 AM 

0 Comments:

Post a Comment