Or things get … weird:
At the touch of his lips it swelled and lengthened. His expert skills left me gasping. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he ensorcelled me with pinches and tugs, and especially the rapid rotation of his wrist. And then, two minutes later, it was over. There was nothing left but the mess on his face, in his hair, clinging electrically to his clothes. I cried knowing I had exploded the best balloon giraffe I would ever see and threw the sewing needle away in shame.
She ripped the book into small pieces, dipped the chunks into the cheese, and ate it as a fondue, thereby proving the point. However, the horseshoe still didn’t float, with quite predictable consequences.
(The mildly deranged penguin is now trying to decide on the beginning, ending, plot, characters, and setting of the above story. Once she does it will make even less sense. It does, however, have a title, Aerocraft Acrobatics Above Andromeda.)
I’d love to know the context in which the OP’s quoted text appeared.
Should’ve stuck with balloon penguins 🤣🤣🤣
(That was a funny story, CD! Thx 💓)
Accidental erotica needs to be a thing.
I’m happy to make it a thing. Anyone can send me a candidate at my nym (without the honorifics) at the google e-mail thingy. Dot com, of course.