Bouncy

by B. Sobjakken

Every jump swung the giant schlong between his legs, leaving nothing to the imagination about his weapon of mass vaginal destruction.

“He’s looking to add his banana to that fruit salad.”

“Bringing the al dente noodle to the spaghetti house.” Slapping a hand over her mouth, I scrunch my nose. “Wouldn’t al dente make it limp?”