I’m not me when I’m horngry.

Horngry? Ya. Horny + hungry (for peen) = a very out-of-sorts Honeytoes (Of course, “out-of-sorts” = bitch on wheels.) Thanks, CP, for finding the graphic whilst my holes were getting pounded…I just zhuzhed it up a bit.


After getting back from my business trip and having had a very bizarre set of texts the day after the last texting frenzy with PG, my brain was tired. (No, I won’t share the texts…suffice it to say that I had the verbal diarrhea last Tuesday and said things that I now wish that I hadn’t said – and that I will never say again to him or anyone else.) My #giblets needed tending to very desperately, having been poorly serviced two times in the course of one weekend. (I’m looking at you, Prince and Meh.) Who is the one peen that I can count on to satisfy my needs every time? PG. Duh.

Wait, can we go back to the Tuesday texts, please? So, like, I had the #verbaldiarrhea and figured that was the end of that. PG surprised me when he texted me later that day and started talking about what I should wear the next time we’d fuck. It started out with the typical fishnet body stocking and g-string, but eventually the decision was made:


Right. Got it. And then PG explained some of the things he wanted to do, including fucking my ass hard and deep, cumming in my ass, and watching me push it out. That, my friends, requires an extreme, uh…clean out. PG kindly asked for photos documenting the process. Oh, and then this text arrived:


Well, isn’t he just a continuous font of surprises? I will pretty much do anything for good dick, but for Majestic Peen™ it seems apparent that I have no limits. I spent a good part of this weekend trying to locate the proper accessories. There was no plan to do the damn thing until I had confirmation that I’d be seeing PG tonight. I’ll do enemas for a good anal reaming, but not just for funsies and no peen. Know that any time PG and I get together, my nether region is cleaned out, but he wanted an extreme clean out and the commemorative photos as well this time.

Last week, PG assured me that tonight (Monday the 13th) was 100% going to happen. He has a habit of saying that. So…when I follow up the day of our putative hookup and he gets snippy, it vexes my spirit. That’s how it went today. I reminded PG that I now have 2 full-time jobs and little time to sit around and take pics and screw around with texting, but that I was in dire need of his cock. I asked if tonight was still on and he said that he was trying, but his work is out of control and he’s working out of state. I said that I understood, but that “I AM JUST FUCKING HORNY” and then he responded “And I’m overwhelmed and on my way to a stroke”. I said I’d stop bugging him and then a few hours later, I texted him anyway (paging Sybil…?). I told him what days I’m free and said that I hope he didn’t actually have a stroke. (Note to Self: Self, look into getting a mold made of PG’s cock, lest he shuffle off this mortal coil. Or something.) Anyhoo…he replied a little before 4:00 this afternoon to confirm that tonight was a go! I didn’t even see his text till about 15 minutes after he sent it because I was busy working and feeding the cats. He also confirmed that he’d be getting pics of my preparatory measures (not including the uh…expulsion part, thank FSM!) and a few other things:


I prepped myself (extreme anal cleansing session, shower, hair, makeup), sent the requested pics of said anal prepping, and I was on my way. Sadly, my poor car was in need of fuel and I could NOT fill ‘er up here. I’d have to get out of my car with my ass hanging out. Nope. I had just enough in the tank to get into NJ where they have attendants pump the gas. It is the law. The two fetuses (feti??) who served me asked where I was going and they were all smiley. I did, in their defense, look like a streetwalker. The one who took my credit card obviously saw the short, black PVC jacket that didn’t cover my thighs…and the black over-the-knee boots peeping up from beneath the steering wheel. I told them I had a hot date and they both smiled. Jesus. Just fucking pump the gas and let me be on my way.

I arrived and took a quick peek around to make sure his neighbors weren’t outside. The coast was clear, so I teetered into his house, ass on display like a proper whore. As I entered his bedroom, he smiled and I put my bag onto the ground. He told me that I looked perfect and then he took some photos. I was bent over, my ass toward him and he slid underneath me to get a different angle. He asked me to squat over his dick for another photo. Then he asked me to turn around and squat above his face. PG pulled aside the black g-string and kissed my pussy, obviously gazing at my bits and their shiny jewelry.

He said that I could get up and he did as well. He pulled down his shorts and motioned with his hand that I should get on my knees and suck his cock. Seriously, that thing is a beast. (CP, tell ’em! You’ve seen it!) It really is the perfect cock. Anyhoo, I was eagerly deep throating him and playing with his balls. Then he turned around and I had a little tossed salad. I was a woman possessed tonight. I don’t know what got into me (heh – other than PG, obvi), but I ravenously devoured his asshole. I kissed, licked, sucked, tongue fucked, and gently fingered around the outside. All the while I was sure not to neglect the frank and beans. I was a multi-tasking slut tonight!

He asked me how I wanted him and I said thoughtfully, “Face down, ass up!” He complied and then I really got into it. I was so into his ass this evening, dear readers, that he nearly came. I found it oddly amusing that he said, “Oh, Princess, you’re going to make Daddy climax!” Climax. Okay. Climax. Not cum? Pop? Jizz? Explode? Some other PG quotes during The Eating of the Ass (is that like The Silence of the Lambs?) included, “Do you love fucking Daddy’s ass?” and “OH MY GOD! FKSFEFOENKESNKSFSFKSFKSEFJKL!” Or something like that.

We switched things up a bit and he asked me to get on my knees – ass up – on the bed. He said tonight would be all anal, but then he asked if I wanted him to fuck my pussy. Um, ya! And then things went all weird. He entered my pussy from behind and said something to the effect of, “We have to talk about something.” I’ll spare you the details, but he wanted to be certain that I know my place (yep, I’m the slut with holes you love to fuck) and he asked if I was aware of the “severity” of his relationship with Orangina. Severity? I thought that was an odd choice of words, but he was fucking me, so whatevs. I said that I was aware. He asked if I want to have his cock forever and I said yes. (I feel I’ve been very clear on this point.) Then he said he wanted me to turn over so that he could see my face because he didn’t think that I was getting what he was saying. I was, but I was trying to pay attention to the fat dick in my twat. Jesus.

I flipped over and he continued fucking my pussy and he said, “Tell me who you are.” I replied, “I’m your slut.” “That’s right,” he said, “You’re my slut.” And then? He stopped grinding into me for a moment, looked me in the eyes, smiled, and said, “Your teeth are perfectly white. They are beautiful!” This was a weird night.

PG started pumping into me (still in my pussy) and he stopped once again. He felt the need to let me know that my pussy is perfection. PERFECTION. It is “the best pussy” he has ever fucked in his life – and he’s fucked a lot of pussies. He said that “it feels like velvet” and my twisted mind went right to George Costanza going on about draping himself in velvet in a Seinfeld episode. Tonight PG was screamingly adamant about how good my pussy feels wrapped around his perfect cock (he didn’t say it was a perfect cock…I did). It’s true. It feels ridiculous.

He also took some time to mention my curviness and how sexy my big hips are as he hovered over me thrusting into my guts. Then he stopped for a minute and put his hands on my hips and jiggled them. Er. My hips? (Cue Dr. Lecter talking to Clarice Starling: “Was she big through the hips? Roomy?“) The things on my body that I was told to hate over the years (fat ass, big thighs, wide hips) are the very things that initially drew Plane Guy to me on that fateful plane ride in July 2016 and they are what continue to keep him obsessed with me. Now I have Queen’s “Fat Bottom Girls” in my head. Fat bottom girls do make the rockin’ world go ’round.

It was time to switch to anal, but I haven’t had anal with PG in months and it was pretty painful initially. He slowed down and asked me to turn on my stomach with my legs together. There we go! That was the ticket. He asked me how I wanted to cum after teasing my ass with his Majestic Peen™ and I told him to put his full weight on me and let me grind into him. Then I told him to go in very deep as I backed my ass up against him. Yep, that did the trick. I came very hard and he then drilled into me until he was ready to cum. PG pulled out of my pristine ass and came all over my face and into my mouth. It was a ridiculous amount of cum. I’m totes serious. A LOT. Not one drop fell onto my satin corset, either!

Aw, man. Cum isn’t vegan!

We talked afterward about how stressed he is about work and his life. Again he brought up moving to someplace far away and getting some animals (goats, lambs) and just hiding out a few years. This man is stressed AF, y’all! I made sure that he is aware that no matter where he goes, I WILL TRAVEL TO HIM, as any good FTer would. (Shout out to all of the FTers who read my blog!! Thank you for reading about my carnal adventures!!)

…and always remember: Ho is life, y’all!

Sluttily yours,
#notesfromaslut #honeytoes #hoislife

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