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Leila and Jeffrey's long-smoldering attraction wasn't rekindled by one single glance--it was ignited into a blazing fireball. Neither would ever have expected to see the other here at the Gimme Sum Fresh Teriyaki Grill (or would have deigned to set foot in the food court had they known). Yet here they stood struggling to maintain their composure, each locked in the other's gaze. Primal desire crackled and danced between them like electricity. But could the force of this visceral craving possibly be enough to overcome years of professional rivalry, public accusations and bitter lawsuits?

Perhaps...old habits died hard, though. Be careful, Leila reminded herself. She resolved to maintain her famous poise at all costs.

"I heard your last documentary did well, Mr. Stanton. It's good to see you've kept your knack for profiting from the intimate details of strangers' lives."

Jeffrey turned away, hurt by her attempt to resurrect the walls of their animosity. Why did she always insist on nursing old wounds? Yet even as he strove to hate her, the sight of her full, ripe lips sent blood coursing down to his pork javelin, and bedeviling smell-images of her well-manicured badina filled his nostrils. Still, if it was hardball she wanted, two could play...

"And your ratings are healthy as ever, Ms. Archer. You're the perfect journalist: no pesky feelings or emotions to get in the way of the story. If a few lives get ruined along the way, well, what's the difference?"

Considering the delicacy with which she'd handled the recent Puleo-Atkins scoop, this was hitting below the belt. She glared at him, fighting back tears. At the same time, inexplicably, against all logic, she wanted him more than ever! The sight of his steely blue eyes and hard, lean body was making her nether-lips sizzle with desire like two slices of Hillshire Farms Maple wood smoked bacon on high flame in a Cephalon Premium Teflon-coated frying pan.

Sensing her hurt, her need--his anger dissipated instantly. He dropped his eyes, ashamed.

"It's no good. I can't keep this up. I've loved you for years."

"What? Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you!" But try as she might she couldn't muster up the indignation the situation called for. Far from it. Deep down, she was astonished to discover, these were the very words she'd always longed to hear. Her legs went weak and she felt the uterus syrup welling up from the depths of her ax wound.

He stepped forward and swept her up in his arms. "Let's stop fighting destiny, Leila." With more tenderness than she'd ever thought was possible, he began to probe her asshole with his fuck-finger.

Knowing her resistance was crumbling, she cast around for a suitable rebuttal. But it was no use. She couldn't deny the amazing feeling of wholeness amassing within her rectal portal, and all at once she realized she'd have to give in. She puckered her anus and greedily drew his finger inside.

His voice was husky. "You have no idea how long I've dreamed of this moment, Leila. Even when I hated you most. Even up there on the witness stand, all I could think of was gulping your 'gina."

"Don't say it." But she too had never stopped yearning for the feeling of his tapioca faucet breaking the plane of her hot mouth-hole.

He picked her up, laid her back on the table. The sight of him removing and expertly folding his polka-dotted pantaloons made her coochie undulate with glorious anticipation. In what seemed like seconds they were both naked and he was kneeling over her, greedily sucking on her sushi surprise. Slurping noises filled the air like a wet-vac hoovering up a vat of room temperature gefilte fish. Waves of pleasure reverberating through her, she spread her hips further apart to allow his tongue greater purchase on her yawning pusshole. Without looking up, Jeffery dumped his half eaten chicken yakisoba on the floor and expertly maneuvered the paper plate to catch the lengthy strands of his saliva cascading from her ovarian treasure trove. You could say whatever you liked about his professional ethics: this was a man who knew how to lap labia.

Moments later, he was boinking her face thrillingly with the side of his sirloin mallet. He struck her nose, her throat and the top of her head until she could stand no more. She began to climax, giving in fully to what would have been unthinkable not thirty minutes ago. Now that her final inhibitions were gone, she felt like a little girl again, and reverted to baby talk as she creamed. "Uggh! I want play pony fucky finger with you, Mister Peeny! Baby Leilei wanna likky dickie chowder!" Unbearably excited, Jeffrey could hold back no more, and beat his chest savagely as his cock recoiled half a dozen times, each contraction sending a translucent gout of lumpy gonad chum all over her perfect little body.

Afterwards, they clung to each other as if for dear life. Problems lay ahead for sure, but a bond of unity was already growing between them, a core of togetherness that could withstand whatever external forces would inevitably seek to destroy their newfound oneness...

Date Written: June 28, 2004
Author: Jon Matza
Average Vote: 4.59375

07/1/2004 Will Disney: 870 words? good god!
07/1/2004 qualcomm (4): i laughed, in spite of endlessness and offensive prurience
07/1/2004 Snack Bar (5): brav-fuckin-o!
07/1/2004 scoop (4): One star off for ending a sentence with a preposition.
07/1/2004 Dylan Danko (5): Was there some shmackums going on there? Thank you, author, for redeeming the day.
07/1/2004 Ewan Snow: This had plenty of potential, but overshot its wad. There were about six more ridiculous sex metaphors than would have been optimal. That said, there were a few good ones and I did laugh out loud at one of the early ones. Forget which one, maybe "pork javelin." I don't like to take points away for length, per se, but I think this would have benefited from a quicker exit. I'll giver her a four. And yes, I'm aware that this was likely written by Lewis.
07/1/2004 Ewan Snow (4): Like i said...
07/1/2004 qualcomm: it has lewisian elements, but seems too sloppy...
07/1/2004 Dylan Danko: i was going to say Slocum.
07/1/2004 scoop: Your such an intellectually honest dreamboat, Snow.
07/1/2004 TheBuyer (4): i think it's B.M. I also think he is on a fucking roll.
07/1/2004 Ewan Snow: What's your theory? Slocum? Scoop? Benny?
07/1/2004 Ewan Snow: That comment was to Lerpa. Guess I was a little slow...
07/1/2004 qualcomm: i just don't know.
07/1/2004 Ewan Snow: Scoop: "How dare you? How dare you?"
07/1/2004 qualcomm: i like the image of jeffrey beating his chest savagely as he cums
07/1/2004 qualcomm: too dirty for maniacs
07/1/2004 Ewan Snow: Slowcum's a dirty bird.
07/1/2004 Ewan Snow: Why too dirty for Manics? Didn't he write that recent one about the anal sex puppies? Or is that not dirty as such?
07/1/2004 scoop: I get the impression the author has drawn from either our lives/words/catchphrases/literary quirks and molded them in to this anime-like perversion.
07/1/2004 qualcomm: as such? no. ok, maybe maniacs. i'unno.
07/1/2004 Pix (4): You should write harlequin novels.
07/1/2004 Not Lisa (5): Wow.
07/1/2004 Benny Maniacs: Yeah man. That shit was hot. I'm not even gonna vote, cause I'd only give it a four, and that would bring your pretty little average down.
07/1/2004 Benny Maniacs (4): Fuck it.
07/1/2004 Mr. Pony (5): Here, I'll fix it! There was some real funny shit in there. I'd use the word "idiotic" If I was sure you wouldn't take it the wrong way. Four point six! Kinda...kinda LONG, though.
07/1/2004 Jon Matza: Refrained from voting on this because, as others have hastened to point out, it's way too long to be a short. Thought some parts were funny, but the author needs to exercise some restraint. Once again, I am disappointed.
07/2/2004 scoop: But your short about Satan tunred on by the sweating, teeming masses is long and that's a winner, fella! Your a fucking winner too! Fucking-A! We're all fucking winners! Except Snow. He's an angry snowman.
07/2/2004 scoop: Holy fucking shit!!! It's you Matza. You wrote it!!! Your built for fucking winning dude!!!
07/2/2004 John Slocum (5): Long, true, but easy to sit through and very funny. Felt like author was having fun trying to continually outdo himself with new and more outrageous sexual metaphors. Honored that individuals thought I created this.
07/2/2004 Jon Matza: Scoop's right: there isn't a wasted word here. FU Matza!
07/2/2004 Ewan Snow: I figured out it was you last night while drifting off to sleep. What do I win?
07/2/2004 Will Disney (5):
07/2/2004 Mr. Pony: Again, Matza, I find myself using words that are ordinarily pejorative to complement you. What's going on there?
07/2/2004 Craig Lewis (5): 4.98. Just crossed the wires: Brando died. Of obesity.
07/2/2004 Craig Lewis: I agree with Slocum: liked the litany of absurd sex metaphors ("ridiculous yawning pusshole"; "ovarian treasure trove"). Don't quite agree that there wasn't a wasted word here, but I do think that the 800+ legnth is part of the joke -- i.e., phrases like sirloin mallet, lumpy gonad chum, etc. are especially funny b/c they keep coming and coming. (Still, I betcha Matza could have done this in 500 words.) But the best thing here for my money is the rather subtler send-up of Hollywood Rom-Com cliches about professional rivals/adversaries who slag each other endlessly but are actually in love.
07/2/2004 Jon Matza: I thank you, computer friends, for your feedback. A few notes for future biographers:
1. The diction (minus the filth) and the overwritten sexual tension bullshit was inspired by Nora Roberts dreadful bestseller "River's End", a soft-porn-disguised-as-romantic-thriller I read on vacay.
2. Lewis-where does the text say her yawning p-hole was ridiculous? Rather, it was deadly serious.
3. Snow: you win a ________ .
4. Yes, Scoop, we all are winners...but at what price?
5. Don't fret, M Pony. I take that 'idiotic' as high praise indeed.
07/2/2004 Craig Lewis: Typo.
07/2/2004 Craig Lewis: Working on several texts at once here.
07/2/2004 Ferucio P. Chhretan (5): Gotta love the 'gina.
12/17/2004 Litcube (5): I noticed you spelled Jeff's name like my drunk mother only once out of the four times in this short.
11/21/2006 Master Bates (4.5):