Trout trap
During foreplay with a new woman, the lover decides they want to give a tongue beating on the Ol pussy pink meat. It is best practice to first take a dip in the pool with a finger. One can then take a discreet sniff, to test if the parting of the lips has a good scent. If you forget to check the oil before lapping at it like a dog licking a wound, you may get trout trapped. This poor basturd, genitalia engorged with blood, consumed by a madmans lust to gunk up their tongue with a sopping handful of muff. Like a runaway freight train careening towards a disaster, the fragrance slaps them in the face. As if at 2 am, the dance club lights turn on and you realize the person you have been dancing with all night looks like a meth addict, everything is seen clearly. You have been trout trapped. Before you is a hatchet wound burping out its putrid air, a cesspool churning its swill. Aromas of gutted maggot ridden fish bursting open on a 90 degree day, swamp ass where you sharted but have no way to wipe so you have to sit sweating in your filth, and the musky sweet sweat on a 300 pounder. Being a good person, not wanting to embarrass her, you decide to dive in. Working up several shot glasses of saliva you prepare to give her a pussy bath. Even if there are sticky chunks of cottage cheese you gallantly slurp away the filth. 3 days later when pungent scent still remains on your upper lip. Slowly wafting under your nose even after 20 hot showers, you vow never to be trout trapped again.
Sorry I will stand farther away talking to you, I was trout trapped last night and I can't get rid of her between the meat flaps slim coating on my tongue.
Trout trap by Kissel August 23, 2023
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