Originally Posted by
Dark Soldier
February 9th 2010
"It's ok, Henry, my love for you is still potent. I don't care that you're loved up inside with Harold. I don't care that your getting a shit stained cock. All I care about is you, and our love will be strong forever. I have to go now, apologies. Stay strong sweetness..." Scoobs put the phone down. Henry stood still, silent, his heart confused, close to breaking point. Harold passed by, saw him, came close. "Never mind her, sweetpea. You need to man the fucking harpoons with that one. What we have is pure, rational, uncompromising. Come, come with me, I'll make your metaphorical pain go away with a pounding that'll leave your shitbox feeling like you've done fifteen rounds with an Arab curry" Henry's face lit up again, a retarded smile, crooked teeth exposed. Hand in hand, they walked away, two lovebirds without a care in the world...
A guard spoke. "Oi, Henry, governor's office. Now. Follow me." Harold's eyes welled up slightly, "I'll be waiting for you, princess", kissing Henry on the cheek. They broke apart, Harold forlornly heading back to his cell, Henry striding behind the guard, about to meet his idol. They got to the office door. "Go straight in, I've to wait inside". Faint music was emanating from the room. Turning the handle, Henry let himself in. From Sam Jackson's iPod dock came forth Wild Irish Rose by U2, candles strewn around the room. In his chair, legs crossed, sat Sam Jackson, a red silk smoking jacket on, cigar in hand, a lustful gaze on his face. "Come, my dear Henry, come and sit" As Henry approached the chair, Sam piped up "No, my white sugar, not there, here.." Sam patted his knee, a gentle, loving smile, his eyes looking longingly into Henry's eyes. "I said come here before I beat your fucking arse, cherub" Reluctantly, Henry approached, sat down nervously, Sam's hand reaching around him, cradling his portly chest. "Now, I'm aware of your feelings for me. I've seen you, on the internet, showing off your pictures of you with me, your pimp stanch, those blue polyester shorts. The chemistry in that picture alone is intense. I want to make that real, to make all your dreams come true. Do you feel that, brushing your thigh? That's eleven inches of prime salami, with your name stamped all over it. Don't you want this, baby, don't you want me...?" Sam's hand slid gently down to Henry's crotch, a soft bulge emerging. There was conflict in Henry's mind, his love for Scoobs, his animalistic lust for Harold, his desire, his longing for Samuel L Jackson...
Their eyes met, noses almost touching, lips millimetres apart. Sam made the move, locking Henry to him, a long tongue deep inside his cheeks. Without warning, Sam pinned Henry to his desk, straight in, forcefully, hand over Henry's mouth, muffling his screams. Harder and harder, deeper and deeper, it was unbridalled ecstasy for Henry....
Outside, a loud bang, the door handle turning...
"Oh give it to me my black stallion, give it to me...weld those arsecheeks with your opulant glue..." Sam's head rocked back, pleasure akin to nothing before...
The door open, a womanly scream of shock...
"Oh yeah baby sweetness, take it all my clover of luuurrvvveee..."
The figure spoke, voice cracking..."HENRY! What are you doing to me, my dear..? Wh.....Why...?" Harold's hands went to his eyes, a sniffling, destroyed mess. He turned and ran gayly, like a tart chasing her dog...
"Ignore him, butterlips, I'm there, Oh God am I there, feel it swimming inside....GGGNNNRRRRGGGHHHHHWHITEMANTAKEDISAAAAAAA HHHHHWWWWWYEAH....My princess, my darling queen...I am yours my sweet Irish rose..."