Dick and Mahmoud

“Oh Dick.”

“Oh Mahmoud.”

“I only wish we had more time.”

“Same here, Mahmoud. Same here.”

“Hold me closer, tighter, you big bear. I love the smell of your aftershave mixed with the fetid aroma wafting up from your colostomy bag.”

“You always know just what to say, Mahmoud. Hey, how ’bout a blowjob?”

“A blowjob? Dick, I’d love to, but you know we’ve never actually been able to find your penis. It could be any one of a multitude of pimples down there, and all that oozing puss from your various rashes makes telling one from the other nearly impossible. Why don’t I just fuck your ass again?”

“With your fist?”

“Sure, Dick, I’ll use my fist.”

“Oh goody. It makes me so, I dunno, umm… what’s the word I’m looking for…?”


“No, that’s not it.”

“Uh, well then, how about, excited?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s it. Although it’s not like shooting someone in the face.”

“I could use both fists?”

“Okay, sounds good.”


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