No Bull

Homer Snikshot is a lucky man. This document begins the arduous and exhausting work, which chronicles the adventures of the infamous couple consisting of Homer Rufus Snikshot and Matilda Lou Cravencrotch. Matilda is considered a demure little thing in some circles. Say, a circle of hairy mastodons, which, coincidentally, are a pretty good likeness of the …ahem …little lady. But, being fair to the mastodons, if she had come along first they would now be known simply as mastodons. She is, as they are called in polite society, a large and lovely, albeit hairy, lady. How large, you inquire? If she had been around when toilets were invented they certainly wouldn’t have been put in a closet and the pipes would have been larger– much larger. There would also have been some more sizes available in tampons, in addition to small, medium and large there would be tampon–in–a–drum. Matilda would have been inspirational in Mankind’s quest to conquer space. If she were around we would have left long ago. Some special women just spark that will in a man. Matilda has many good points, too numerous to even list. Did I mention she was quite large and hairy?? If she had been born in the earth’s formative years, we would have a better explanation for the Grand Canyon. Matilda pissing was a geological event, embarrassing cows unmercifully. When she was done the rock was not only no longer flat, it was not there. Mankind was ill equipped for the likes of a real woman like Matilda Lou Cravencrotch.
Speaking of men, you are probably wondering what kind of man could win the heart and mind of such a woman– none other than Homer Rufus Snikshot. If you were thinking he must be very special, you’d be right. In fact, he was used as the poster boy for “Special” at the institution where he grew up. Quite the lad about town, his picture also appeared on posters for birth control, nuclear radiation, the dangers of pesticides and inbreeding. Many considered him to be quite a catch. The Humane Society, The Center for Disease Control, those people looking for Sasquatch and The Missing Link all chased him at some time. To their credit, they were all smart enough not to catch him. Not that Homer was mean or evil; on the contrary, he was a loving soul. When Matilda Lou was visiting the neighboring town of Skunk Flats, just over the hill from Homer’s town, her scent caught his attention. He ran the full 12 miles to meet her with his dick arriving on the scene 28 inches before Homer. Did I mention that Homer is a big boy? All over. You should see him hard. He got excited at the local Home Depot once and was nearly arrested for smuggling a telephone pole out in his pants. The authorities finally let him go when they realized that was not creosote on his pole. It was cow shit. He couldn’t explain the spike marks though. Homer was a little different in his sexual turn–ons. He always got excited at the smell of farm animals like any normal boy, but went nuts when he smelled buffalo. Kind of worked out nice for Matilda. Homer and Matilda’s courtship would have made warthogs mating a gentle and romantic event, but let’s not confuse the story with too many relatives. At their first meeting, Homer thought he was looking at his idea of an angel. Matilda resembled a buffalo in a sundress. Closely. Her scent was Eau De Rous Buffalo. When she opened her legs in greeting, the smell became a herd– a large herd. He liked her at once. Let us now go back in time to explore their first mating. It is not a pretty story. If you are easily offended, or nauseated, please read no further, but if dinosaurs ever return and want to mate with humans, the knowledge gained just might help you survive.
Homer Snikshot was a lucky man. He learned early on Matilda was not just another member of the herd. This joyful, nearly fatal discovery occurred on his honeymoon, taken behind Miller’s barn one night just after harvest, about 9 months before their marriage. After a couple of quarts of homebrew and a keg of Homer’s corn–barley beer, Matilda was falling for Homer’s smooth talking ways. He silently thanked his 1st grade, (and only) teacher; not much of a fuck, but she sure talked pretty. “Matilda, we’s gonna be hitched real soon, can we fuck now?” That kind of clever sexual innuendo really turned Matilda on. She melted.
It’s really messy. She wants Homer but has to pee. The homebrew and beer along with the last week’s liquids has gone straight to her bladder. She is not sure whether she can hold it. There is no time to notify the EPA, she really has to piss now, but her hole is on fire with lust. Homer’s seductive charm is too much for a simple country girl like Matilda. She reaches for Homer, crazed with desire. Misjudging her strength, she throws him right through the hay pile and he slams into the side of the barn. “Yes Homer, honey, be gentle with me,” she calls as she crashes through the water trough, trampling a cow and calf in her hurry to retrieve her lover. Peeling him off the barn where he is stuck on a row of drying possum hides, she gets down on all fours. She is sure Homer will like that; it’s all her brothers’ favorite position. (Except for Luke, but then he likes girls and won’t let daddy touch him.) Homer’s lust is inflamed as he spots his honey pot’s honey barrel ready for him. It looks different than what he’s used to, no tail in the way and the udders are bigger, but Homer is a man who knows his way around a barn, and just because Matilda’s hole has more hair and is bigger doesn’t fool him. Homer begins with his best foreplay techniques. “Brace yourself, Matilda, here I come!” he shouts seductively, trying to run on all fours as he drops his overall britches. “Oh Homer, hurry you hunk of man meat,” just as smooth and seductive as Homer, “I’s on fire tonight,” she continues. Hearing this, Homer resolves to save the life of the woman he loves. Thinking quickly, and with so little practice, he quickly grabs and aims his log–like flesh hose at Matilda’s huge smoldering crotch. Cutting loose, he pisses all over Matilda. The warm liquid dissolves both Matilda’s control and a nearby plastic chair. Unable to stop herself, she pisses, hard, the sound roughly equivalent to a jet engine, the kind with afterburners. Homer steps out of the way as her stream hits and passes through the barn door. Oak is no match for the heated blast from Matilda’s pussy. Homer steps back, he is a safety conscious man and has seen the result of barn animals carelessly wandering into range. It’s a horrible way to die. Homer then beams, proud to have saved his sweetie from burning up.
“How’d you like that, sweet potato,” says the barnyard Romeo, swelling with pride, except for his shoulder that was swelling from its collision with the barn door. “Homer Rufus Snikshot, what are you doing?” screams the disappointed behemoth, “I don’t like no kinky stuff, now, and you get over here and plow me proper!” Homer now realizes Matilda is not nearly as learned and sophisticated as he, but he can teach her that later. His techniques have taken many years and the lives of countless farm animals to perfect, but he knows sharing is what love is all about. Except for Becky Sue Burntbush, he didn’t care much for what she shared with him; made him itch and burn something awful. Her Daddy was fairly philosophical when it was discovered that Becky was the originator of Mad Cow Disease and had to be put down, even when they quarantined and burned his barn and house, but he got really pissed upon learning she had infected his prize bull. Homer had yet to show any effects from the disease other than the itching and burning, and maybe a tiny bit of rotting flesh, certainly nothing to bother Doc Enbalmim about. But, I have wandered; so let’s get back to Homer and Matilda’s sexual adventure.
Homer continues his previous charge, but is too late as the Miller’s bull beats him to the draw. Slipping and sliding in Homer’s piss and Matilda’s drippin’s, the poor charging bull’s dick and lower body slide unrestricted into Matilda’s cavernous twat, the terrified animal slamming into her ass cheeks with a resounding smack as it bellows in mortal fear. “Oh, Homer, come on, quit teasing me and let me have it whines Matilda as the terror–stricken animal departs, removing 40 feet of barbed wire fence in its headlong rush for survival. Homer looks on, confused as the fence post ripped out by the departing animal and fired like an arrow from the stretched barbed wire bounces off the ground, heading straight for Matilda’s twitching, belching hole. Suddenly Homer has a flash of inspiration. He sees the beauty of the moment; it looks like a fence post fucking a cement mixer. Homer is not just a poet, though he recognizes the opportunity to impress his beloved, malformed, mutant Barbie doll. He calls out to Matilda. “Brace yourself, honeypot, here I come” he yells as the concrete end of the wayward fence post disappears into Matilda’s now–foaming hole, only to re–appear almost immediately, smoking, charred, the bark gone as Matilda cums, her pussy’s powerful spasms propelling the slimy projectile straight at Homer’s head. As I said, Homer’s a lucky man; if that post had hit elsewhere he could have been killed.
Homer and Matilda woke up about the same time. The waters from Matilda’s desperate piss had mostly drained away except for where it had splashed on the barn wall, filling the hanging tubs and rusting them beyond repair. The paint on the barn didn’t look too fresh, either. For the first time since Uncle Louie visited, well actually Uncle Louie’s horse, Uncle Louie hadn’t been that great, Matilda was satisfied. She looked lovingly at Homer, the post–coital juices flowing from her humongous gash like lava from a volcano. “Homer, honey, don’t git none o’ that on ye, it seems to kill trees and is bad for automobile finishes too.”
Homer gazed back at his latest conquest, trying to uncross his eyes again for a second go. “Believe that was mighty fine, Missy, got to get me some more of that!” he grunts, carefully crossing her flow. Aiming his hose carefully he washes her discharges off the barren smoking ground in front of her steaming cavern and advances on Matilda again. Matilda reminds him she doesn’t like any kinky stuff, so he carefully avoids pissing on her twat again. He doesn’t mind, he has plenty of time to teach her some sophistication. Homer enters Matilda’s slimy slot now, not noticing the hair in his nose curling and dropping to the ground. Homer is in heaven. Matilda’s twat began to smell less like buffalo now and more like a burning tuna boat. Homer just knew she would clean up good; she already smelled better and most of the chunks were gone. Homer and Matilda rock back and forth, trees snapping like twigs when the pair rolls over them. The noises and smells of their coupling spark terror alerts in 7 neighboring counties. Their honeymoon is consummated as the bulbous, flatulent pair cum, dumping ungodly fluids on the ground as their bodies release the fruit of their passion. The site even today is commemorated as nothing has ever grown there again. It also made the groundwater in the area quite toxic, unfortunately. Homer had found his one true love, though, his soul mate. Homer Snikshot was a lucky man.
King Neptune