It was an early summer’s afternoon. Janie was in the kitchen in her snug sassy formfitting denim jean cut-off short shorts. Her bust was accentuated by her sexy sultry zebra print stretch formfitting lycra spaghetti strap halter top. She shifted as she set the eggplant on the cutting board and cut it into one inch slices. Her mind began to wander. Janie started to think about sex.

Janie loved sex. She loved penises. She loved to stroke penises, she loved to squeeze them and watch the pre-cum ooze out of and settle in the stiff penis’s puffed slit. She loved to lick the pre-cum ooze out of the puffed penal slit while stealing a glance at the gentleman she was servicing. Janie loved sucking a stiff shlong into her wet slurping pie hole and licking under the shaft while purring penis muffled “ooohs” and “ahhhs” to the concerned party attached to the aforementioned shwantzolla.

Janie preheated her oven to 350 degrees and and sprinkled salt on both sides of the eggplant slices and placed them in a colander with a dish underneath. She shifted as she reached for seven ounces of shredded mozzarella cheese. Her legs made a swoosh sound as they rubbed against one another in her slinky sheer summer suntan support comfort waistband flat seam ten denier reinforced toe cotton crotch glamorous, shiny yet sheer one size fits most pantyhose. Janie felt happy.

Janie could also be happy tea bagging a guy while stroking his rock hard man sausage until he shot a huge load warm man cream in her hair or all over her bare big nippled breasts depending on the position of the participants at the time of the male’s sploogy climax. Occasionally, Janie would encounter a man whose nut sack smelled like dank bile, salt, stale fishy cunt, yeast and Vieux Boulogne cheese, but she could usually suck the stench off a man’s scrotal sack in less than a minute.


Janie put the shredded mozzarella cheese into a medium bowl and mixed it with nine ounces of ricotta cheese, a half cup of parmesan cheese a beaten egg and a half a cup of chopped fresh basil. She waxed rhapsodic about how she really loved kneeling in front of a guy with her mouth wide open and her tongue sticking out while working his stiffy woody wiener with one hand and tickling his nut sack with the other. Janie would usually rest the penis head on her warm wet tongue while continuing to manipulate it in the aforementioned manner until a huge load of sploogy baby batter man clam chowder skipped off her tongue like a well thrown rock on a lake. If the aforementioned sploogy baby batter man clam chowder hit the roof of Janie’s mouth or the back of her throat she might choke slightly, but she wouldn’t move.