Epilogue - Thrust and TwirlThe pencil slides in and out of her hot, wet, ear canal.The next day the erotic exchange continued the minute Dari entered the classroom. Miss Tokyomama sat at her desk, talking distractedly about chemistry, her eyes locked with Dari's. She picked up a pencil and sharpened in slowly, licking her lips as she did so. Then, with a gentle thrusting motion, she pushed it into her ear canal searching out tenacious wax deposits. In and out the pencil slid, thrust and twirl, the eraser widened her ear canal as it pumped like a number two oil derrick.
Dari couldn't take it anymore, a fountain of semen burst forth from his groin like a Biblical flood with such force that it pinned his desk to the ceiling. Blood sprayed from his nose, joining the torrent and coating the ceiling in a mixture so vile that only the Japanese could find it erotic.
"Mr. Armostrongo!" cried Miss Tokyomama with mock outrage, "you will have to stay after school today for a private conference!"
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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