So as you may have read, there's this series here called "Conflicted," which was written by a buddy of mine who goes by the nickname of Eldridge.
El and I have been ragging on each other for many weeks now, constantly killing each other about our stories.
We were spending so much time beating each other up that I finally said, "You know what we need to do? We need to kill each other in a story. I'm going to write a parody of 'Conflicted, ' and you do one of mine."
I have many more stories here than he does, so I'm not sure which one he'll choose, though I'm reasonably certain that he'll primarily target my collection of "Summer" stories.
We want to let the editors and all our readers know right up front that these stories we're submitting today are just parodies. We both greatly admire the other's writing skills and want to make it clear that nobody should take a word of what we're writing here seriously. We're going to go out of our way to create the most ridiculous parodies possible of each other's works, strictly in fun.
There will be implausible sex, wild incest and rude behavior, and our only purpose is simply to make each other laugh. Once you recognize the characters and their quirks, hopefully you'll laugh too.
"Baby, it's starting to hurt a little."
"That's probably because it's bleeding really good now. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure it prolapsed back when Mister Jenkins was still talking about the Gettysburg Address. What did I tell you about doing your exercises?"
Kelsey looked back at her hemorrhaging ass. "I know, doofus, but it's really starting to sting now ... in a good way, of course. Also, we're sort of making a mess here."
"Kel, you must be confusing me with someone who's chock full o' give-a-fuck."
Pulling my gore-covered cock from my baby sister's impossibly perfect ass, I used her long brown hair to wipe it clean. "Okay, there, is that better? We're all spic 'n span now."
'Oh, what the hell, ' I thought, jamming it right back inside her, only I kind of missed on the first looksie.
Hey, blow me, okay? It was such a mess down there that anyone could have missed. It was an honest mistake.
"Oops!" she giggled, looking back at me.
"Oops!" was right. I'd just fuck-shredded her taint to where it was sort of ... gone. My little Prince Albert with the dangling Oakland Raiders skull charm had well and truly obliterated her fleshy dividing line between good, clean biblical fun and Kelsey's idea of Wednesday night at the bowling alley.
"That'll learn ya!" she sniggered. "Now you have no excuses. You better be able to find somewhere wet to stick it in down there."
Sneering at her like the big dopey douche that I am, I rammed myself back in; though I wasn't exactly sure where I landed, it felt vaguely grabby and passably viscous. Good enough.
"Kel, you just bear down, or I won't let Amanda take you to Waffle House."
Kelsey giggled, "Damon, you know that if it were up to me, hell, I'd let you split me open with a mace. The thing is, I just hate to get my skirt dirty. What with all this blood and gore, my pretty little skirt is gonna be hella messy when we go to the mall after school."
Kelsey's best friend Amanda was intently watching us, and I grinned to her, "Do it."
Like a performing seal waiting expectantly for a sardine treat, Amanda excitedly clapped her hands together, then...
"AAAAAEIIIIIFUUUCK!!" screamed Kelsey, launching herself straight up into the air.
Sitting back with a smug look, Amanda was conspicuously rolling a can of Bactine between her fingers.
"Kelsey, climb down from there! You're making a spectacle of yourself!" I said.
Kelsey was hanging from a light fixture, panting heavily while staring down with murderously loving eyes at Amanda.
Dangling that way, she looked like a really sexy spider monkey ... with a bleeding ass.
While teasingly waving the can of Bactine around, Amanda blew her a kiss.
Anyway, we were in second-period American History class, and the Redbull vodka I'd shotgunned after first-period had just kicked in. Swear to god, Jenkins' lecture was beyond boring. So, having nothing better to do, I'd started fucking Kelsey in the ass atop my desk, and Amanda had our school's A/V crew there filming it.
When Jenkins eventually caught us, he did his best Mr. Hand from Fast Times at Ridgemont High impression, smirking, "Damon, Kelsey, I trust you brought enough for the rest of the class."
A small, stringy gloop of hot teen cheerleader viscera plopped onto my desk, followed immediately by a giggling Kelsey, who'd finally let go of the light fixture.
Landing with a thud, she broke my pencil.
Amanda picked up the cracked pencil and showed it to Kelsey. "You're gonna pay for this," she said threateningly.
"Oh, gawwwwd, I hope so!" cried Kelsey, launching a cool arcing of cum and red blood cells onto Amanda's beaming face.
As Amanda tried to lick it up - looking a lot like a really hot bulldog with its mug covered in peanut butter - Kelsey launched herself with a cute cheerleader growl over the desk and into Amanda's lap.
"Yes, I am gonna pay, starting right now!" she giggled. Ripping Amanda's panties off, she flung them at some fat kid we all called Ouch. We called him that 'cause every day when he knelt at his locker the other kids would carry their book bags really low to clip him in the head as they walked by.
His ears always looked funny. Ouch liked egg sandwiches. Damn, he had the worst farts.
Punting Ouch out of his chair, Kel let loose with a killer Viking scream before smashing the chair against the wall; once, twice, until finally it shattered.
Like a fat lady from Wisconsin enjoying her first four orders of roast mutton and bangers at a Renaissance Faire, Kelsey snatched up one of the legs of the shattered chair in her hungry maw. "Punish me! I've been a bad, bad cheerleader!" she growled, spitting the jagged shard of wood into Amanda's lap.
Realizing what had to be done, Amanda immediately ordered Kelsey into the Scorpion Position against the wall.
"Cool move," said Bart, the crackhead of our class, having just woken up due to all the smashing and screaming.
Yes, it was definitely a cool move. In fact, it was part of their Teen Cheerleader Porn USA routine, which, besides winning the state cheerleading championships for them, was also something the girls hoped to make a mint from on the internet.
Facing the wall, Kelsey was grasping her foot, having stretched that leg all the way over her head from behind; her other leg was straight as an arrow, the end result being that it looked like she had a scorpion's stinger poised above her head.
Of course the other result was that she looked sexier than moist scarlet fuck. She was like a sexy Gumby, only with a hot, steaming bread bowl of Manhattan clam chowder between her awesome legs.
'We probably need to put a tourniquet or something on that. Meh ... maybe later. She's still being sexy, ' I thought, grinning to myself.
"I've been baaaad, Amanda, and you know what you do to baaaad girls," hissed Kelsey.
Pondering her next move, Amanda eyed the broken chair leg for a few moments before turning back to Kelsey. "Will you still be good for waffles later?"
Kelsey grinned, "I'm always good for waffles. You know me. I luuuvs me some waffles, and I really luuuvs me some nasty truckstop waitresses. They can ass-spatula me all they want over their hot griddles."
"Okay then. I just wanted to make sure we didn't spoil your appetite."
Reaching into her backpack to pull out a strap-on, Amanda hooked it around her hips. Grinning evilly, she removed the wildly unsatisfying eight-inch dildo; in its place she wedged the jagged chair leg, which jutted out a good eighteen inches.
She looked like a golden blonde Pinocchio goddess with a Literotica story-sized jagged wooden cock.
Kelsey eyed her with the same sort of naked lust that I reserve for my swimming teammate Brian after he pisses on my balls in the shower, or when Erik the Fag bends over to retrieve his 'accidentally' dropped bottle of patchouli-scented bath gel while offering me up just a scrumdiddlyumptious view of his tortured leathery Cheerio.
Kelsey said, "Fuck me, Amanda. Fuck me like you mean it, you beautiful pussy."
Moments later there was a beautiful display of teen cheerleader ass-blood splattering the windows.
With a song in my heart, I felt like Ice Cube. Truly, it was turning out to be a good day.
"Hey, Carynne, wanna ride?"
School had let out, and we were headed over to the Waffle House. Kelsey, Amanda and I were all stuffed into Amanda's two-seater Miata, with Amanda sitting on me. She thought it best to give Kelsey's ass, pussy and not-really-much-of-a-taint-anymore a little time-out, so we let Kelsey drive.
I like hats. I own all sorts of hats, ranging from mesh Snap-On tools baseball caps to Kenny from South Park's green, woolly earmuffs thing, to colorful sombreros, to those little pillbox deals the Queen Mother always wears.
Some people say I'm a raging gaywad. I prefer to think of myself as eclectic.
Without a doubt, though, my favorite hat is wearing Amanda like one. That's why I love convertibles. When you're driving home from school, nothing beats having a naked blonde cheerleader's ass bouncing off your face, her legs wrapped around your head.
Amanda's pussy always smelled like ... victory.
.... There is more of this story ...