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Archive-name: Fantasy/smurfsex.txt


Archive-title: Smurf Sex

It's time to tell the truth about Smurfs.


You see, Smurfs are a lot like other folks; they have dreams and

ambitions, deep, thoughtful conversations with each other, and

good and bad times.


"But," people ask, "do Smurfs have..... you know,...... *sex*?"  

The answer is an emphatic and resounding YES!


And why shouldn't they?  They're people, too.


What *most* people don't know is why Smurfs are blue.  Well, the

reason is because Smurfs only have sex once a year.


Face it: if you had sex only once a year, you'd be blue, too.  

Once a year, in the Smurf village, flags and banners fly happily

in the breeze, proclaiming that the day of the annual Smuckfest

has arrived.  Birds sing and the Sun comes out to watch, despite

the weatherSmurf's direst predictions.


I guess good ol' Mr. Sun is a voyeur.


In the middle of town, Papa Smurf gives a brief speech explaining

the origin of the Smuckfest; how Dr. C. Everett Koop came to the

village and warned all the Smurfs about AIDS.  Papa Smurf knew

that no one made condoms small enough for a Smurf (even though

everyone knows that all male Smurfs are uniformly well-hung, for

their size), so he decreed that all Smurfs would only smuck one

day a year.


"Smucking one day a year will help us identify any diseases we

may transmit to one another, and keep them from spreading to the

animals in the forest," declaimed Papa Smurf.  "Besides, it will

give Smurfette a chance to rest."


Yes!  Smurfette must rest.  For, as everyone knows, Smurfette is

the only female Smurf in the village, and after a full day of

having vigorous, rabid sex with two hundred cunt-crazed little

blue men, she needs a break.


So, on the appointed day, Papa Smurf bids everyone throw their

inhibitions to the wind and immerse themselves in debauchery.

And, as is his privilege, Papa Smurf throws out the first throe. 

At his signal, Smurfette unties the skintight blue band she must

use to suppress her natural bustiness, and her astounding tits

spring forth into the daylight.  The Sun gleams lecherously on

the smooth, blue flesh, nipples crinkling in the light of day

from her soon-to-be-unbridled lust.


Then Smurfette shimmies out of her skirt and stands before the

crowd, naked as the day she was born, save the spike-heeled white

boots she has donned just for the occasion.  Her long, blonde

hair cascades down her back and lasciviously outlines her

buttocks, clinging like a dirty old man's gaze to each curve and



Her cunt winks lewdly from behind the golden shield of pubic

glory, already glistening in mad anticipation of each and every

raging rod it would receive that day.  And receive them gladly it

would, for hers is the indefatigable furburger, and she hungered

for the sauce blended in the heat of passion.


Smurfette turns to Papa Smurf and lifts her stupendous breasts

with their turgid nipples to his lips.  He takes each one, in

turn, into his mouth, where his tongue dances the Fabulous

Fandango around the areolae, as Smurfette moans like a cat in



Then, when poor Smurfette can take no more, Papa Smurf drops to

his bony little knees and sprinkles his magic deSmurfilating dust

on Smurfette's engorged cunt lips.  Presto!  The lovely blonde

braiding material falls from her, leaving her shaved smooth as a

hard-boiled egg.


"Oh, Papa Smurf!" she cries.  "Encore!!  Encore!!", as she

writhes in anticipation of the Fabulous Furless Fandango danced

'round her pulsating pussy.


Papa Smurf does not disappoint the damsel in distress;  he slides

his hands under her tight little blue ass and parts her moistness

with his thumbs.  As the hot, funky juices begin to run down his

arms, he plunges tongue-first and tonsil-deep into her wiggling

womanhood.  Smurfette gasps as the talented tongue begins to do

its magic, and her cunt clutches at it like a baby bird after a



Cradling his head to her crotch, Smurfette's hips begin to slowly

grind and twitch, for Papa Smurf's tongue has unerringly found

her S-spot, and Smurfette begins the slow, hot, agonizing rise to

ecstasy.  "Oh, make me smurf, baby, make me smurf!", she pants,

each stroke of his tongue causing her to throb and clutch.


As Smurfette's moans and cries rise in pitch higher and higher,

the crowd gazes in amazement at the mighty mound of meat

struggling to escape from Papa Smurf's pants.  This, then, is the

legendary Trouser Titan, bulging forth in a determined attempt to

split the barrier.


Just when Smurfette is certain that she will die from sheer

sensory overload, Papa Smurf flings off his Levis and frees the

Magnificent Heat-Seeking Moisture Missle from its cradle.

Maddened with blind lust, Smurfette hurls Papa Smurf to the

platform and leaps shrieking into the air, landing unerringly on

his Titanic Totem.


Suddenly filled, Smurfette's cunt explodes in a monster orgasm,

the force of which propels her screaming into the air again and

again, each time plummeting her onto the Potent Purple Pecker and

triggering another climax.


Before Smurfette can achieve orbit, Papa Smurf grab her legs and

pulls her to the ground.  Swiftly, he stands, pulling her to her

knees.  Gasping in awe, Smurfette gets a head-on view of his

hard-on, glistening in the light like a war staff.


The sight of this shining stud is too much for Smurfette, who

immediately grabs both of Papa smurf's bulging balls in her hands

and pulls him to her waiting mouth.  With preternatural skill and

primeval hunger, Smurfette devours the monster cock, licking and

sucking like a starving child with an ice cream cone.


His ass knotting like a sailor's anchor rope, Papa Smurf pounds

into Smurfette's mouth with furious strokes.  As he reaches his

blazing climax, he forces Smurfette to take all thirteen and

7/8ths inches of blue tube steak and fires round after pulsing

round of blue goo down her ravenous throat.


"Hurray!!", shouts the crowd.  "Now it's OUR turn!!"


Suddenly the town square erupts with scenes of azure carnality,

as 200 tiny blue asses appear in the sunlight.  200 raging

cocks swarm toward Smurfette's waiting and ever-willing cunt,

ready to make her scream for mercy as they scream for more.  400

bouncing balls follow each other toward the nearest available

orifice, making Smurfette wish there were more of her.


Those lucky enough to find access to Smurfette's fabulous form

begin their crazed humping, as others find their schlongs being

stroked as fast as she can grab.  Those whose time will come

later are coming now, as their friends clutch lustily at their

forbidden fruits, flinging frothy fuck-foam far and wide.


Up the ass!  Down the throat!  Backhand, forehand, underhand, in

the armpit or behind the knee, the Smurfs erupt in a display of

orgasmic prowess to shame the most devoted student of the Kama

Sutra.  Soon the street become hazardous to navigate (and

navigate one must), as the square gets deeper and deeper in the

collective come.


Hour after hour, the orgy rampages on.


Gradually, as night falls, the screams of orgasmic ecstasy turn

to the moans and sighs of deep contentment, with the occasional

whimper from an over-enthusiastic sodomite.  Soon all is quiet,

as Smurf helps Smurf back to Home and Preparation H.  Tubes of

Chap-Stick are quickly distributed to soothe aching lips, and

aloe gel is applied (as are lips, if it is too stimulating) to

the citizen's members to ease the burning.


As the exhausted (and completely sated) Smurfs lie in sexual

stupor, gentle rains come (not them, too!) to wash away all

traces of the fleshfest that was.


And you wondered why Smurfs are always in such a good mood...  


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