Erotic Saturday Morning Cartoon Fanfic, Part 3
Mushmouth Learns a Lesson, Part two, inspired by Fat Albert, written by Mr_Schmoo. Mushmouth, nervously unhinged his lower jaw like a boa constrictor and let the enormous penis slide into his mouth. At first, Mushmouth could only handle a little bit. It reminded him of a dare once he tried once where he tried to stick his fist in his mouth and couldn’t. Fat Albert’s cock was so huge that even at his mouths widest, he couldn’t possibly fit it in. No matter how much Bill pushed on the back of Mushmouth’s head, or Albert forcing it in; it would not go. The best Mushmouth could muster was to fit the cusp or Albert’s throbbing, uncircumcised member. “It ain’t working, Al.” Bill said. “Ok Bill” Albert said “go to plan B.” Bill then let his legs give out and let the galactic girth of Albert’s gut fall. The belly dropped and completely enveloped Mushmouth. His ropey arms could never support the weight, so his body failed and he fell, mouth first, onto Albert’s penis. Instantly, Mushmouth fell the sides of his lips tear, he heard a popping sound come from his jaw and felt Albert’s cock go back into his throat, past the uvula. He could feel the pressure on the inside of his neck. Mushmouth could feel pubic hairs filling his nostrils and Albert’s balls enveloping his neck. For some reason, Mushmouth noted, Albert’s crotch smelled of bologna. He was completely helpless. His body began to induce vomiting, but the jerky motions on his penis only served to stimulate Albert more. (canned laughter) “Hey Hey Hey,” Albert said rolling his eyes up “It looks like someone has done this before!” Bill recovered from his near death experience. He saw the naked Fat Albert stuffing a cupcake into his mouth and, like an insect trapped in a windshield wiper, he saw Mushmouth’s skinny, flailing legs. Albert began to sway in and out. Mushmouth hung, helplessly, his legs dragging and twitching on the floor like a semi-dead fish. “Uh, doesn’t he have to breathe, Al?” Bill asked. “Nope,” Albert said, chewing, open mouthed on a hamburger “he stole my bike. It’s time he learned some manners.” “Mushmouth!” Albert yelled into his gut “Maybe this will help your speech problems!” Suddenly, Albert emitted a loud lengthy fart. “OOOH! Hey, Bill” Albert said “I think something just came out show me what it is!” Bill then took a stick and catchers mitt and went behind Albert. He carefully looked on the floor, keeping himself free of Albert’s sphincter. He had gone back there too many times only to be farted upon and covered in whatever leaking fluids Albert expelled. He was lucky, though. This time he found a small poo particle, about the size of his thumb. With the stick, Bill rolled it into his catcher’s mitt. Instantly the warm, fishy and slightly ammonia odor crept into Bill’s nostrils. He threw down the stick and covered his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “WOW!” Bill said, his voice twangy “How can something so small smell so bad!” (canned laughter) Albert held out his giant, fatty hand. Bill rolled the excrement into Albert’s hand. Albert then brought his hand up to his face. “Hey Hey Hey little guy!” Albert said, stroking the feces like a pet hamster. “Where are you from?” Albert brought his hand up to his nose and took a deep breath. “That’s Mama’s fish sticks!” Albert said excitedly “I love home cooking!” He then pushed the palm of his hand into his nose, pushing the feces into both his nostrils. He then dragged his hand over his face, leaving a beige smear on his mouth, lips and chin. He then began to paint his sweaty chest with his own waste. “Ooooooooooohhhhh!!!!” Albert growled like a gorged hippo as he twirled his nipple. “Uh, Al” Bill said quietly “Mushmouth ain't moving.” “Oh yeah,” Albert said, “I forgot I can’t see anything down there!” (canned laughter) Bill then picked up an iron bar. He rested it on a sawhorse. He jammed the pole into the folds of Albert’s skin and pushed up. He moved some skin around but it did nothing. “Hurry up, Bill” Albert said “I got to come!” With a might push, Bill dislodged Mushmouth from the fat. Mushmouth collapsed to the floor. Bill thought he was dead. He picked up the stick that he picked Albert’s droppings with. He poked Mushmouth, no movement. About 15 long seconds later, Mushmouth woke up with a deep breath. He began coughing and wiping pubic hairs from his mouth. “Jebub!” Mushmouth began to say. “Jebub COUGH COUGH Jebub Crybub” Mushmouth brought himself to all fours. “And now, “ Albert said “I’m gonna come!” Albert rolled his eyes up into his head , opened his mouth and drenched Mushmouth with an enormous spew of vomit. At first, it was the recent things he had eaten, the hamburger, turkey leg and bits of his own feces that had gotten into his mouth. Then came the barrage of breakfast: A half gallon of orange juice, eight McGriddles, a basketful of half digested potatoes pancakes, half a birthday cake with candles, and about ten strips of uncooked bacon which landed on Mushmouth’s face making him look like a disease had given him enormous scabs. The constant stream of vomit lasted for about ten seconds. Mushmouth fell over from the force. It was like being hit by a fire hose of bile. (canned laughter) Drenched with semi-digested food, Mushmouth slowly brought himself to his knees. He looked up just in time to see Albert preparing to vomit again. Mushmouth screamed. When the vomit hit, Mushmouth had his mouth open. Mushmouth felt last nights chewed-up pepperoni pizza crusts mixed with milk, a box of chunky gummi worms, mussels, a bacon-heavy salad with a creamy sauce and the fizz of coke. Mushmouth fought hard to resist swallowing, but all those muscles were ripped apart by Albert’s cock and therefore useless. Mushmouth felt Albert’s vomit slide down his throat. Some of the chunkier bits got stuck in it. “There,” Albert said, wiping him feces smeared nose and vomit covered lips “that’s for taking my bike!” Albert then pick up his vomit encrusted pants and put them back on. Mushmouth lay in a puddle of Albert’s chunky vomit and began to weep silently. Just as Albert began to leave, Dumb Donald rode up on Albert’s bike. “Hey Hey Hey Dumb Donald!” Albert said, wiping traces of vomit from his mouth. “Where did you find my bike?” “Find it?” Dumb Donald said “You loaned it out to me! Remember?” Albert felt ill. He instantly remembered Dumb Donald asking him to borrow it yesterday. “But I thought Mushmouth was riding it!” Albert said. “Nope” Dumb Donald said, “I was! My momma was doing my laundry. Mushmouth loaned me his clothing. And I thought I was crazy!” (canned laughter) Dumb Donald turned around and walked away. Albert stood there frozen with his own guilt. Just then, Mushmouth crawled up to him, coughing, gagging, smelling of soiled milk and decaying meat. “Di-buh I just say-buh what I thought he said-buh?” Mushmouth asked. “Oh-uh!” Albert said. “Look Mushmouth, I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions like that.” Albert said “Are we still friends.” “OK!” Mushmouth said “No use-buh crybing over spilled-buh milk” Hi, I’m Bill Cosby. Today the gang learned about jumping to conclusions. Albert felt very bad when he remembered that he loaned his bike out to Dumb Donald. Why if Donald hadn’t shown up, Albert might have lost a good friend. But they apologized and everything is OK. So remember, think first before acting and, for Pete’s sake, never eat a birthday cake with the candles still on it!