Playground

by Aron Beauregard

She pulled her moist panties down, allowing her fermented beaver to peek out from below. The scent was just as ungodly as the sight. Rock stared at the stretchy skin abound with wrinkles. The slick and sudsy sap leaking out from her floppy hole glistened in the daylight. When Geraldine got juicy, she manufactured a rancid odor all her own, one that made Rock sick to his stomach each time he encountered it. The fetid aroma floundered about, triggering a flashback to the many awful pastimes Rock had been forced into. The sourish scent stunk of outdated dairy, spoiled seafood, and asparagus-tainted urine. The monstrous melody that was Geraldine’s cave brought Rock to his knees. As Rock looked at the moldy meat, he heard Geraldine’s ravings in his head. The chemicals in those soaps and shampoos shorten the average lifespan. That’s why you’ll need to stay clean and why I need to maintain my natural oils. Rock had watched Geraldine grow conspiratorial in her old age. It was like she sensed death looming, but her bottomless wealth could only extend her life so far.

If this isn't the grossest description I've ever read... idk what is. I've literally had every one read this vomit inducing passage.