|Its time to tell the truth about Smurfs. You see, Smurfs are
a lot like other folks; they have dreams and ambitions, deep, thoughtful
conversations with each other, and good and bad times.
But, people ask, do Smurfs have... you know...
The answer is an emphatic and resounding yes! And why shouldnt
they? Theyre people, too. What most people dont know
is why Smurfs are blue. Well, the reason is because Smurfs only
have sex once a year. Face it: if you had sex only once a year,
youd be blue, too. Once a year, in the Smurf village, flags
and banners fly happily in the breeze, proclaiming that the day
of the annual Smuckfest has arrived. Birds sing and the Sun comes
out to watch, despite the weather-Smurfs direst predictions.
I guess good ol Mr. Sun is a voyeur. In the middle of town,
Papa Smurf gives a brief speech explaining the origin of the Smuckfest;
how Dr. C. Everett Koop came to the village and warned all the Smurfs
Papa Smurf knew that no one made condoms small enough for a Smurf
(even though everyone knows that all male Smurfs are uniformly well-hung,
for their size), so he decreed that all Smurfs would only smuck
one day a year.
Smucking one day a year will help us identify any diseases
we may transmit to one another, and keep them from spreading to
the animals in the forest, declaimed Papa Smurf. Besides,
it will give Smurfette a chance to rest.
Yes! Smurfette must rest. For, as everyone knows, Smurfette is
the only female Smurf in the village, and after a full day of having
vigorous, rabid sex with two hundred cunt-crazed little blue men,
she needs a break.
So, on the appointed day, Papa Smurf bids everyone throw their
inhibitions to the wind and immerse themselves in debauchery. And,
as is his privilege, Papa Smurf throws out the first throe. At his
signal, Smurfette unties the skintight blue band she must use to
suppress her natural bustiness, and her astounding tits spring forth
into the daylight. The Sun gleams lecherously on the smooth, blue
flesh, nipples crinkling in the light of day from her soon-to-be-unbridled
lust. Then Smurfette shimmies out of her skirt and stands before
the crowd, naked as the day she was born, save the spike-heeled
white boots she has donned just for the occasion. Her long, blonde
hair cascades down her back and lasciviously outlines her buttocks,
clinging like a dirty old mans gaze to each curve and dimple.
Her cunt winks lewdly from behind the golden shield of pubic glory,
already glistening in mad anticipation of each and every raging
rod it would receive that day.
And receive them gladly it would, for hers is the indefatigable
furburger, and she hungered for the sauce blended in the heat of
Smurfette turns to Papa Smurf and lifts her stupendous breasts
with their turgid nipples to his lips. He takes each one, in turn,
into his mouth, where his tongue dances the Fabulous Fandango around
the areolae, as Smurfette moans like a cat in heat. Then, when poor
Smurfette can take no more, Papa Smurf drops to his bony little
knees and sprinkles his magic deSmurfilating dust on Smurfettes
engorged cunt lips. Presto! The lovely blonde braiding material
falls from her, leaving her shaved smooth as a hard-boiled egg.
Oh, Papa Smurf! she cries. Encore!! Encore!!
as she writhes in anticipation of the Fabulous Furless Fandango
danced round her pulsating pussy.
Papa Smurf does not disappoint the damsel in distress; he slides
his hands under her tight little blue ass and parts her moistness
with his thumbs. As the hot, funky juices begin to run down his
arms, he plunges tongue-first and tonsil-deep into her wiggling
womanhood. Smurfette gasps as the talented tongue begins to do its
magic, and her cunt clutches at it like a baby bird after a worm.
Cradling his head to her crotch, Smurfettes hips begin to
slowly grind and twitch, for Papa Smurfs tongue has unerringly
found her S-spot, and Smurfette begins the slow, hot, agonizing
rise to ecstasy.
Oh, make me smurf, baby, make me smurf! she pants,
each stroke of his tongue causing her to throb and clutch.
As Smurfettes moans and cries rise in pitch higher and higher,
the crowd gazes in amazement at the mighty mound of meat struggling
to escape from Papa Smurfs pants. This, then, is the legendary
Trouser Titan, bulging forth in a determined attempt to split the
barrier. Just when Smurfette is certain that she will die from sheer
sensory overload, Papa Smurf flings off his Levis and frees the
Magnificent Heat-Seeking Moisture Missile from its cradle. Maddened
with blind lust, Smurfette hurls Papa Smurf to the platform and
leaps shrieking into the air, landing unerringly on his Titanic
Totem. Suddenly filled, Smurfettes cunt explodes in a monster
orgasm, the force of which propels her screaming into the air again
and again, each time plummeting her onto the Potent Purple Pecker
and triggering another climax.
Before Smurfette can achieve orbit, Papa Smurf grabs her legs and
pulls her to the ground. Swiftly, he stands, pulling her to her
knees. Gasping in awe, Smurfette gets a head-on view of his hard-on,
glistening in the light like a war staff. The sight of this shining
stud is too much for Smurfette, who immediately grabs both of Papa
Smurfs bulging balls in her hands and pulls him to her waiting
mouth. With preternatural skill and primeval hunger, Smurfette devours
the monster cock, licking and sucking like a starving child with
an ice cream cone. His ass knotting like a sailors anchor
rope, Papa Smurf pounds into Smurfettes mouth with furious
strokes. As he reaches his blazing climax, he forces Smurfette to
take all thirteen and 7/8ths inches of blue tube steak and fires
round after pulsing round of blue goo down her ravenous throat.
Hurray!! shouts the crowd. Now its our
Suddenly the town square erupts with scenes of azure carnality,
as two hundred tiny blue asses appear in the sunlight. Two hundred
raging cocks swarm toward Smurfettes waiting and ever-willing
cunt, ready to make her scream for mercy as they scream for more.
Four hundred bouncing balls follow each other toward the nearest
available orifice, making Smurfette wish there were more of her.
Those lucky enough to find access to Smurfettes fabulous
form begin their crazed humping, as others find their schlongs being
stroked as fast as she can grab. Those whose time will come later
are coming now, as their friends clutch lustily at their forbidden
fruits, flinging frothy fuck-foam far and wide.
Up the ass! Down the throat! Backhand, forehand, underhand, in
the armpit or behind the knee, the Smurfs erupt in a display of
orgasmic prowess to shame the most devoted student of the Kama Sutra.
Soon the street becomes hazardous to navigate (and navigate one
must), as the square gets deeper and deeper in the collective come.
Hour after hour, the orgy rampages on.
Gradually, as night falls, the screams of orgasmic ecstasy turn
to the moans and sighs of deep contentment, with the occasional
whimper from an over-enthusiastic sodomite.
Soon all is quiet, as Smurf helps Smurf back to Home and Preparation
H. Tubes of Chap-Stick are quickly distributed to soothe aching
lips, and aloe gel is applied (as are lips, if it is too stimulating)
to the citizens members to ease the burning. As the exhausted
(and completely sated) Smurfs lie in sexual stupor, gentle rains
come (not them, too!) to wash away all traces of the fleshfest that
was. And you wondered why Smurfs are always in such a good mood...