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Story No. 39182
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"I like my milkshakes stirred, not shaken," explained James. The lovely Madame O. Pussy replied, analytically: "Does that not defy the nature of the word milkshake, James?" Shocked at her insolence, James
wished he had never lent her his favorite garter belt, the one with the tiny rasps on the interior. He wondered if it would be soiled irreparably by the time she returned it to him.
He bit into it and felt its sweet juices dribbling down his chin, wetting his beard.
This little incident made him forever known as 'Wetbeard', and he was revered for his wetness. So much so, that he soon developed a following and, his beard having grown, began to feel like Christ reborn. And thus, Beardology was born.
Before long, its hairy tenets and tenants had spread throughout the teapot, leaving behind the residue of
cum as he had been masturbating.
Brogel
lililoli
