Spasms. Pornhat Squelch. I am almost braindead. Hands spack against each other. Froth thickens. Hands claw at ring. Throb. Beg. Claw. I try to beg the xenomorph, beg. Shirt stinks. Throb. Brain being pureed. I can smell the Xenomorph’s hot leathery body now. Eyes roll further. Hands scrabble. I am on my back now. Shirt stinks. Down into my nice pert soil-brownie. So smelly. Claw. Head twitches. Lips stink of poohole. My brain feels like it is being mushed a little. Lips. Cannot take it off. Bumhole loosens. I am a vegetable. Gentle being sterilised by the throb. Cannot. THROB. Throb. Throb. Butt-crack shitty. No. Body jerks. The Xenomorph begins to feast, feast, feast, scooping, gorging, slurping.
