Smurf sex wanted.

[Andrew Gow]

Could anyone with a copy of the story of how smurfs have sex, or a variant
thereof, plese email it to me, as I wish to reveal to a friend the *truth* about
smurfs.

Thanks alot,

-Andy.

--
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| Andrew Gow, Undergraduate Student on the Bachelor Of Land Economy (BLE) |
| course in the Department of Land Economy, Aberdeen University, Scotland |
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| Email to: u0...@aberdeen.ac.uk |
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[woerns]

Here you go... enjoy.

-werns

> Francis Marc Branger wrote:
>
> It's 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,...... sex?"
>
> The answer is an emphatic and resounding YES!
>
> And why shouldn't they? They're people, too.
>
> What most people don't 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, you'd 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 weatherSmurf's 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 about AIDS. 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 skin-tight 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 man's 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 passion.
>
> 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 Smurfette's
> 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, Smurfette's hips begin to slowly grind and
> twitch, for Papa Smurf's tongue has unerringly found her S-spot, and
> Smurfette begins the slow, hot, agonising 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 Smurfette's 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
> Smurf's 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, Smurfette's 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 grab 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 smurf's 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 sailor's anchor rope, Papa Smurf pounds into
> Smurfette's 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.
>
> "Hurrah!!", shouts the crowd. "Now it's OUR turn!!"
>
> Suddenly the town square erupts with scenes of azure carnality, as 200 tiny
> blue asses appear in the sunlight. 200 raging cocks swarm toward Smurfette's
> waiting and ever-willing cunt, ready to make her scream for mercy as they
> scream for more. 400 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 Smurfette's 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 Karma Sutra. Soon the street become
> 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 citizen's 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...