Marx Bolotov was a very specific character. His interests revolved mainly around the amphibian family, and more specifically, around toads and frogs. The creatures are ugly in nature and nasty to man. But Max didn’t hide his main hobby, but only flaunted his fetish.

- He loses me with his fishy look and this unhealthy love of toads! - said about him the vocalist of the group Swamp Porn Daniel, in which they played together since high school. - I would not be surprised if one day it turns out that the Marsh takes in the mornings a frog droppings in liquid form in order to recharge themselves and to the right fucking mood. You see, he is only interested in this, he is an egoist and he does not give a shit to the human race!

And let Marx not give a damn about humanity (especially women and children), but he still led friendships with people of a special breed. If there were all kinds of warts, chirias, pustules and other growths on the physique and body, it was safe to contact him with a friendship offer. Being some kind of musician, Marx attracted all sorts of insurgents, shitty and other interesting personalities, but it was difficult to find a truly ugly person among them. This was a special article, a special case for Marx Bolotov. If a person was uglier than him, then here it was already possible to rely on something more than friendship.

One fine autumn evening, Marx was walking with his immense size girlfriend, whom the devil pulled to meet after another disastrous concert of Swamp Porn. Her name was Malay. Here it is, just, and was thus a special case. Trying to embrace the dimensionless body of the girl, the frog-like thin fingers of Marx were completely buried in her immense bodies, swollen from fast food and other high-calorie "utilities." He was disgusting to him, but at the same time forced the member to stand up. She was able to do this. And let the pensioners cry, seeing these “Brezhnev” eyebrows, and the children squealed, seeing this hare's lip, which was vainly hidden under the thin mustache, but Marx himself trembled in bed and, what a sin to conceal, finished like the last time. Marx preferred to do this without light, so as not to see his girlfriend’s flushed, puffy face. But nevertheless, it was nevertheless necessary to insure: Bolotov squeezed his eyes tight so as not to tear the sheets from contemplation of breasts emerging from the darkness and tried to dodge these boulders as he could, but his tit inevitably struck him in the ear.

Once they rode around the city in a minibus. They called it a “love tour.” But this time something went wrong. And whether Marx choked on her friend's saliva during their hot kiss, or she shoved her tongue too deep and he went not into that throat. Obviously one thing, Marx turned right on the Tajik driver. It was very inconvenient in front of the poor guest worker, but not to remove all this vomit in love!

From these vile memories, Marsh's forehead began to perspire, and inside the scrotum everything sank. Sometimes he himself could not understand what attracted him so much to this woman.
- Yes, she looked amazing, but is it really the whole thing in the «DarkThrone» overalls? - Marx was thinking out loud.

This group was worshiped by Bolotov from his earliest years, but his devout alcoholic mother categorically forbade wearing clothes with the symbols of this “satanin”. One day, she brutally beat her son for a homemade stripe in the back pocket of his underpants. Since then, an unsatisfied desire, to carry the logo of their favorites, has been transformed in Marx's mind into something monstrous. Not only did Malafia resemble his mother in terms of build, Marx did not allow her to take off her adorable piece of clothing during sexual intimacy either. In this way, Marx took revenge, quietly fantasizing how his maternal bosom pierces with his penis like a knife. Marx knew that no one should know about it, and therefore was silent.He was silent even in moments of supreme pleasure, when the seed shot at Malafia’s third chin.

Once Marx received such a powerful orgasm that he even thought about his physical demise. One night he sneaked into the bedchamber of his girlfriend and stole that very overalls. Marx went to the hall with a firm idea to try it on. For starters, he bare. Absolutely completely. He carefully shaved the pubis and testicles, but during the procedure he repeatedly cut himself and had to smear the wounds with green paint, which made him look like a frog. Pulling his hoodie over his girlfriends head, he sat down on a stool and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked at the DarkThrone logo for a long time, but then his eyes slipped a little lower. It was hard to see, and Marx spread his bones widely. Even documentaries about the crossing of toads and frogs did not cause him so much excitement. The member began to grow stronger and after a minute was standing upright. On Marx's face, a little grin slid. It remains only to glitch and ... At this moment Malafia entered the hall and, seeing Marx with her legs wide apart, grunted in surprise. Surprise was replaced by a fit of rage and the next moment she was already chasing the golodopogo Marx around the room with a belt with a brass badge. If the back was still able to somehow be saved, then the hairless thighs suffered terribly. But the head of Marx had the worst of all, the ill-fated plaque landed right in the temple and Bolotov disconnected without finishing.

Since then, Marx did not dare to break with the fat woman, although such little thoughts still spun in his curly head, but the scar on the temporal cavity periodically reminded of itself with wild migraines. I had to reckon with such an incredible force. Even now, passing by another lane littered with debris, which not long ago was chosen by a flock of local homeless people, Bolotov, was wondering how he could get rid of his heavy girlfriend and go to the next turnip of his group.
But, alas, such plans did not come true. When Marx escaped from captivity of thoughts and drew attention to his woman, he was horrified to find that her gaze was directed towards that very alley and his groin.
“Let's go there,” the fat woman wheezed and pulled Marx by the sleeve of his black duet. - I'll show you something.
- Stop, woman! - squeaked Bolotov, trying to escape. - I am against such a development of events!

A friend did not hear him. Her swollen face, even more flushed, her eyes were bulging. Marx knew this Hirimas well. It meant that the girl wanted to have rampant sex, or, as she called it, “Ebun Napa”. From the mere thought of the forthcoming act of love for the throat, a lump rolled up.

Fading from desire, the zhirukha dragged Marx to the most distant, dirty corner of the street and threw him at some kind of outraged, torn boxes, not far from which the shabby homeless man defeated him.
It was only at the last second that Marx with horror discovered that he was landing, not on the boxes, but on the laying of white bricks, which were peeking through a thin layer of cardboard. The neck of the Swamp was heart-rending when she met the building material, and the brain turned off the power for a moment, plunging the mind into darkness.

He dreamed of hundreds, thousands of mating frogs. They shrieked in a different way, jumping on each other.

“Is this not paradise?” - flashed the thought. He felt a sweet excitement growing in his loins, which Bolotov could not, and did not want to restrain. When Marx turned his eyes from croaking amphibians to his hands, he was surprised to find that the kitzs had acquired a dark green tint, covered with lovely warts, and membranes appeared between the fingers.
“I became a worm! My dream has finally come true! ”Marx sang. - “Now I have every right to have parts in an orgy!”
Bolotov was already a centimeter away from a dream, jumping like a frog, to the sex pond, as suddenly he was all torn from the wild pain in the groin area. (Porn stories) There was a feeling that the whole lower part of the body seemed to be crushed by the anvil, and the eggs burned so much as if they were poured on a mountain of red-hot coal.

“What is happening?” Thought Bolotov agonizingly.But in the next moment, everything already fell into place. The group sex in the pond, so pleasant to Marx’s view, has been replaced by a shabby bomzhatskiy dungeon. But it was not the worst. The cause of the agony was dvuhsotkilogrammovoy carcass, perched on his genitals. During the time that Marx was blacked out, the fat woman managed to pull off her sweaters and lift up her skirt. Bolotov clearly saw large drops of sweat flowing down from the countless folds of her stomach right into the crotch.

- Boughs sow! - Apt comparison came to the head Bolotov. - I'll show you Kuzkin mother!

Each new jump was accompanied by a deafening slap about the fragile hip bones of poor Bolotov. Although he himself did not lag behind, slapping her hard on the ass with his palms, but the frictions became more and more unbearable. Because of the wild pain, Marx then lost consciousness, then returned from unconsciousness. Everything was blurring and shaking, like his trusty piston in Malagan's pussy. Marxim, had already come to terms with his cruel fate of being a sex victim and was intent on ending in the depths of the tormentor, but fate-villain again prepared a surprise. Bolotov noticed that his girlfriend, after an obscure reciprocating movement, went into a spasm, and that meant only one thing, she decided to go around her unfortunate lover and selfishly finish before her partner. A shiver passed through her body fat, pubic hair began to stir, and steam poured from the mouth opening.

- Oh no! She starts to orgasm !!! - A crazy thought flashed through Marx’s head.

And at the same second Zhirobasin, grouped and uttering a shrill cry, soared into the air. Marx no longer heard the bones of his legs and pelvis crack. But in his memory will forever stuck that whistling open air with which this stove flew into his arms.
When Bolotny regained consciousness again, he saw how a woman in a hurry pulls back her pantaloons.

“Help me get up ...” Marx croaked. - I do not feel the legs.

And only then he noticed, raising himself on his elbows, what became of his limbs, they seemed to have gone through the press.

- You're a fat creature! You broke my legs !! - Marx shouted. - Shattered to ebeney!
“I have no time,” said the fat lady. “My mother just called me and said she cooked my favorite chicken with beef cutlets.” I'll go home to fill the trifles and wash down with a warm, melted milk.
With these words, she rushed headlong to run out of the alley.
Marx, with his eyes full of tears, wanted to spew out all the curses that he knew, but the mistress of that was gone. (eroticspace) Apparently, having satisfied sexual hunger, she has to move with supersonic speeds in order to satisfy her vital hunger.

- And what do you want me to do? - groaned Bolotov. - How do I get to the rehearsal point?
“I will help you,” came a hoarse voice.

- The God?! - Bolotniy could not believe his coarse ears. - It's you?

But the next moment, he heard a rustle behind and twisted his neck to look. Marx
I saw that same bum, a minute ago, carelessly defecating on a piece of cardboard. Yes, it was not a god and not even a son of God, but some kind of holy fool.

“I hid for a while,” said the homeless man, pulling off his worn workouts. - Watched you. Not bad this zhirukha has trimmed you Your legs are broken. But nothing. I will help you.
Continuing to sentence to himself, the bum pulled out his personal belongings.
- Come on, son, handle my rough.
Looking at the bullying member of a bum covered with sores, Marx Bolotov suddenly realized one simple life truth: when fate throws a bunch of shit on you, it also at the same time lends a helping hand. You only need to be able to see.