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Ken Probst - Pornegrafik - Other Works - A.M. Homes

Ken Probst: Pornegrafik

Porn a-z an alphabetical entry

Adams wisp at attention, he came knocking at the door, anybody home? Alison, Anne, Audrey, anyone can you come out, or better yet can I come in? Are you in there in your all togethers? I thought perhaps we could all perform some acrobatic activity that would keep my axel greased.

Now listen here Buster, bugger off or better yet, you brown-nosed, beer-bellied bull frog, bugger someone your own size. Your bald boy will not be banging our boxes, brushing our beavers, or getting anywhere near our bazookas. Oh and by the way, your bar door is open and your bollix are blue. Oh don't be such a Betty, how about I bring back a friend, and we do a little Batman and Robin back door boinking. I'm not trying to busy your bubble, but not in a billion years.

Hello Clara, it's Claudette. Curses, could you call me at a more convenient time, I'm just about to come. Charlie's here, his Christmas crackers are about to explode! It's a quick one. I was just calling to tell you that Charlotte can't come anymore. Her cunt caved in due to causes beyond her control. Well that is a catastrophe. Is Charlie circumcised? You know I never thought to look. Hold on. Curtains. He's got curtains. 

The customs officer asked if I had anything to declare. She was cute so I offered to make her a candy ass into calendar girl. I offered to buy her cokes and cotton candy if only she'd let me sniff the cottony crotch. She mumbled something about cobblers, cajones, cutting a muffin, and then said quite clearly, well, you'd better put a coat on it so I don't catch something from you. 

Damn it, Dorothy, I missed the moment, denouement, how depressing to be delayed under such dire circumstances. We were doing it, his dinty moore, his derrick stood tall and then the damned call came. 

Everyone I know is douching with Evian, it gets rid of all the earthly evidence. Ethan eloped with Evelyn but Ester said that Ethan is a real eel skinner. I don't even know what it means. I think animals, that he likes to do it with elephants, emus, everything like that.

You might think you're being flirtatious, but be careful because it could cost you a fortune. Frankly Franny fetish fun seems more like a folly and less fresh than French kissing the friend of a friend or finger fucking Francine while being felated. I used to confuse felatio and fillet of fish, now that's funny. And what is frottage. A kind of cheese? I must admit I do fantasize about fucking your fat fanny. Could you just pass me the fruit loops?

A gaggle of girls, goes to the grocery store to get grapes because the great gastronome guest hosting on the gourmet show said they're a great part of the act, when in fact we all know that guys could care less about seduction and all they're thinking is am I going to get some, get in, get over, get my gourdy gonads going, am I golden, is she going to go moo moo, come and get it.

I'd better get going before I drink too much of this giggle water but I must confess that what I enjoy is going to the pool and watching guys wearing grape smackers.

His honor had the horror of hearing a fifty-dollar ho describe how he howled hidey, hidey ho, when he played hid the bacon. By the way I happened to hear that not only was the hooker not so happy but that she had a lot of hail damage, that you could see it in the photos—hail damage, cellulite. How the hell do they do it hanging upside down like that?
Inversion boots?

It's a lot of innuendo, idiots, spilling ink. In the video store, icons of ichthyology in town for an international seminar were impressed to see interactive porn. If he'd been thinking ahead that would have been something that a judicious judge could juggle so that he could get his jollies, without fear of ending up in front of a jury, and hearing the ho harangue about how he liked to have his hard on, hanging out of his robe. 

Jiminy cricket, Jonathan's Johnson was like a jelly stick squirting jazzy jizz all over the men's shower at the gym. You're joking. I'm not. He was jerking off.

Killing a kitten—that's what the kids call it. Wanking Walter, Watering the wall. Look I don't really care what anyone does in the privacy of his or her bedroom, I just like hearing about it later. Does he keep Kosher?

Libby had a lot of liposuction and by the time she was done Larry said it he didn't love her anymore, and so now she just lays around picking lint out of all of her belly buttons and licking lip balm off her wounds. Larry's laughing at the ground and their daughter Layla has a serious latex allergy. 

Manny's mom's a muff diver from way back, really. Marvelous, I never knew. They keep it to themselves. Manny's dads in the Mafia. By the way I overheard My Michael tell your Michael that you're a MILF. What's that? A Mom I'd like to Fuck. That's my kind of mash. Even though he's only 19, I think Michael's a minty man.

Nasty Nadia, I don't want to hear about you needing nooky from my nice boy. I don't want your knotty, knatty knackered knickers, nowhere near him. Neil from the news said he'd save all the back issues for me, especially the ones celebrating male frontal nudity.

Oink, oink you couldn't get your engine oiled if you paid for it. The big O, that's what I'm in search of. Oh, oh, oh. The film didn't come out, it was overexposed. Can we try that again.

Just because Nadia's nasty doesn't mean Patty need be so pious—you let your partner pat your patootie in public and I know it. It's phat with me, Patty says. He's just patting me. Well still it's pervy that position he proposed. I can't even say it out loud. I wish I hadn't told you—it's all about recreating a scene with the faux wood paneling. I would have thought you'd understand, given how interested you are in interiors. I was just being polite. Anyway, Pepples is pissed because Philip opened his pie hole and told Paul all about how Peirre was pimping for her. Oh please, I beg your pardon, but all Paul does is play pocket pool and try to pop his cap with out people prying. And Pepples should know better than to think she's hosting a private party because every time she lets someone in her parking lot they leave pecker tracks. Maybe I'm too preachy but the way I see it it's no one's business who you let pet your pussy. That's my policy. PS. I keep telling Poppy to quit touching his pineapple or it will get over ripe, but he's just a puppy so what can I do. 

Queers, that's where the trouble is. Still? They're about to take over the world. Queers, Quakers and other Quacks. You know how the old rhyme goes, queerbait, queerbait, have you any wool, yes sir, yes sir, three bags full. 

Peek-a-boo, hey that's private, personal privileged quit popping in on me with your camera running.

PPS—the video store was projecting porn pictures across the plaza. The patrons were particularly pleased. The proprietor popped in and was pissed. Whose penis am I parading to passers by? I beg you, please, do not play pornography in the store. Police, puritans and other public personnel will picket my place and there will be no peace. Papa, Polly is playing doctor in the park with a man from the police. Don't you people listen to me?

Quiet and quaint, the queers come to town. They drive the real estate prices high and then they fly.

Royal, Rich, Randy, with the ripe raisin bag, and his rowdy friend Ron, ran right into the store and bought all the raunchy tapes they could get their hands on. We're going to the country for the weekend, there's no cable television, they said, rushing out to the Rover waiting at the curb.

What did they rent—Enema At The Gates, A Knights Tail, The Blue and the Gay, Almost Anus, and Tour of Booty.

Simon says, let me put my saucy sausage between your legs. Sorry Simon, but I don't like being told what to do and besides Simon you're such a shit shagging Sally and her sisters sheep. Sara, you should talk, you're a slut, and you should stop shaving it, the pimples are popping out everywhere. 

Shush all of you—you say it about someone and someone says it about you and that's how stories spread. Talking out of turn. 

Listen sassy sister, your tiger is a thorobread, I saw him in his tightie whities, his tool box was top heavy but it looked Turkish and tasty.

Isn't talking about everyone tiring. Truly. Well if you don't like it, tarry your tadpole carrier on down the road. Truthfully, I find trading tips on all the trysting in this town is titillating, my tits are tingling and I'm tanked. Tinkle Tinkle, little star—I sing when I'm skunked. Next time you'd better do the try-out out of town. Who are you calling a twit, you twat? Don't tempt me.

Hey would the two of you knock it off.

Underwear, under wire and I won't say more, he whispers.

Very well, Victor, Victoria, Voyeur to the stars, the fruit doesn't fall from the vine or should I say the vacant lot—I throw you Vulva, Vagina, Video and raise you two.

I'll show you mine if you show me yours.

What the hell is this, pervert poker? 

Wanda, where were we...what was I saying? Oh, we were walking along, Wayne was wearing his wife beater and his waders, and Wendy, the walrus, waddles up and says, oh I see you shot your wad, on account of a creme cheese spot on the font of his waders—we'd just gone out for breakfast. And Wayne can't resist and so he says, Wendy I wish you'd been there when the stuff squirted out, you could have scruffed it up. And Wendy says, I wouldn't have eaten you to save the world, those days are over, I'm watching my weight so I don't turn into a weeble. Wayne says, why bother, there are whole magazines for men who like feasting on fluffy thighs. Wendy harrumphs, Wayne, I'm on weight watchers now, counting my calories and I'd best get my whoopee cakes walking because it's all part of the program. And meanwhile, remember that time long ago, I never should have kissed your willy wonka, I should have bitten it off. Wash your mouth out with soap. You Wish. Wooley, Wooley.

What are you two talking about, it's like you speak in code.

X, that's what it's all about, triple X. Actually sex with your ex—that's what it's all about, that's the best. Xander, quit playing with your self like you're a xylophone, if you keep at it I'm going to have to take you to the doctor for an x-ray.

Yummy mummy, you don't understand, you're too young, and you eat yogurt and you have no friends so none of these problems will ever befall you.

Zoom in—the big kiss. Zelda, it's me Zorro, I'm instant messaging you. There's something I've wanted to say all along. Look Zorro, don't go zany and before you get your zebra out of the shed, there's something I have to tell you. This is it, you're the big zero, the zed, there's no way I'm getting in your bed.

Does that mean we can't chat anymore? Consider my domain off limits, IM me one more time and I'm calling your mother, your wife, your psychiatrist, my lawyer and the New York Times.

I guess it's goodbye Zelda, I can't risk any more exposure. That's right Zorro—your best bet is to pull it together, put on that black mask and try to do some good with your life.