They sometimes call it Alien Relish. Cum. Splooge. Jizz. Baby Batter. Nut Butter. Gorilla Glue.
You had poured the custard right over her asshole. You were trembling with excitement. Your cock was out and you were involuntarily stroking it while you had your face buried in her solid ass cheeks. As soon as you saw the custard hit her asshole you couldn’t contain it. Your splooge jettisoned out of your cylindrical cock like a missile firing from a submarine. Your jizz mixed with the custard making a kind of cum-custard bi bim bap. All of this was happening to you rather than by you. You were merely watching in awe as you buttered her custard covered ass with your nut sauce. Your cock was on fire. You were nearly in tears with desire and joy. G-strung was taking your cum shot all over her gorgeous ass. Today was everything you had asked for!
This UFO Chronicler Excerpt is a clipping from the beginning of the book Triangulum Stain 2 – Alien Relish. It sets the stage for what the book is going to be. TriStain 1 had lots of print outs from an old diode computer set up in the bowels of the Secret Government Facility known as Cunter Labs. TriStain 2 has a few clippings because it has to cover billions of years. Let me include a clipping or two to make it happen. It’s the story of creation and extinction told from the sexual perspective. Enough blab, let’s get to the story…
Clipping from the UFO Chronicler (THE UFOCHRO – /yoo-FOW-krow/)
by Dean Dibblewitz (more about him later)
On the Alien Planet M69, circa 3,717,879,873 light years before (give our take a few million years)
The planet was like the surface of the moon, all craggly and nooks and crannies. They say the moon was once filled with a yogurt and Planet M69 in the Pinwheel Formation was definitely one of those types with some kind of viscous white and clear cream running through the tunnels, formations, and falls. Imagine a cum river, a cum waterfall, a cum lake. That’s what you have. There were no humans on M69, aka Alien Relish, all the life forms were in this liquid, oozing from craters, hissing down cumfalls, cascading down ravines. It was a bizarre site and one that Doc Rock and company had been studying. It was, of course, free of humans but certainly not free of life. It was life. It was life incarnate. The spring.
The cummy planet was a DNA garden. It was the source from which life spurted. Scientists and Philosophers on Earth complained that English had no good work for this concept, the idea of going from nothing to something. Creation. Spring. Spew. Spurt. Jizz. Splooge. Start. Call it what you may it was the essential element in the universe, the moment when nothing becomes something. Some think the world is death filled by life. Some think the world is life interrupted by death. Either which way, there were two states: alive and dead. The movement between them emerged from this Alien Relish. The relish was programmed to procreate. It flew through the universe, what the scientists call panspermia. The whole mantra is to procreate. It hopped rides on comets, stuck to rings of planets, kissed little particles of ice, got sucked into black holes, and in this case jumped inside the cockpit of the Martian Mindwalker, the latest capsule sent from Earth to discover if there was life on Mars. Somehow the Martian Mindwalker wandered way off course into the Pinwheel Formation and the spores of M69, the Alien Relish itself, had hijacked a ride to Earth. Nobody who knew knew.
This chemical agent from M69 hitching a ride to Earth led to a massive sentient Alien Dildo Invasion that was secretly thwarted by a secret group of women tasked with protecting life here on Earth. They are spooks. If you say their name you will disappear. If you look at them in the shadows they will vanish. If you see one on the television your memory will be erased. If you read about them in a book you will orgasm and forget they ever existed. BUT THEY ARE HERE, among us. THEY ARE THE FUCK FORCE FIVE.
And I will uncover them for you.
But what I have uncovered is terrible news. Our pleasure center is drying up. The pools of sexual desire are far from infinite. They are almost all gone.
One last thing, and perhaps the scariest. Until Replicating Dildo Day (RDD – See TriStain1 if you need more info), there was a word in our minds that we knew for the concept I mentioned above. The word was the verb that meant to become something from nothing. Something like to jizz, to spring, to become, but the exact right word. That word was removed from our minds at the same time that the cummy planet and all that lifeforce dried up.
The UFO Chronicler (aka U-Fo-Krow) was a little independent paper. They tracked Alien Life on Earth and abroad. They stumbled on quite a few facts and Dean Dibblewitz was their lead investigative journalist. He was wildly unknown but extremely famous. He monitored those who monitored others and was thus monitored himself. He was that little tingle in the back of your neck that lets you know something is out there. He was deja vu.
The Fuck Force Five was located in the Brooklyn Armory. They were underground in an office that was decorated with the old streamlined white furniture of the air terminal at JFK circa 1960.*
Dean Dibblewitz – Aka DD – Alien. Writer at UFO Chronicler. Photographic memory specialized in human history, immortal. If he doesn’t dibble himself, he forgets his entire memory. The moment he gets fucked and ejaculates the whole of human history rushes back to him. This can be very useful. This can also lead to a quick fuck necessary at the most inopportune moments. DD used a poster of Tabitha from Fuck Force Five (secret identity: Destiny Girl) hung on his ceiling to help him manage his memory. Why was Tabitha on a poster? Cause her secret identity was Destiny’s Girl from the mega-platinum super-band Destiny’s Pussydolls.
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*one reader pointed out that JFK wasn’t called that until 1963, which is true. Before that we called it Idlewild but it was really called New York International Some Shit. It looked something like this: