Girl working at perfume stand in mall:
“God, you are SO tan! I’m so jealous! My God, I can’t believe how good you look. Oh GOD! Oh SHEORRRLGHHGH! JEESSSSUUUS! HELLLLLLPPPP!”
Possessed, she masturbates furiously on top of the glass counter, sending intermittent firehose jets of ejaculate spraying in plumed arcs across the aisle into Menswear. Within seconds, the store is a flood zone. From an angle near the cargo pants, you could make out a rainbow. Families and couples scatter, knocking over metal racks of colorful rayon, sounding alarms. Some kid slips in an ankle-deep puddle and starts whimpering. A suburban dad, confused, runs straight through a plate-glass window.
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