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Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 25: The amorous and quick-witted lad, placing his feet together, made a capital catch-‘em-alive-o for his horny flip-flap.at catch ’em (all) alive-o, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 25: The amorous and quick-witted lad, placing his feet together, made a capital catch-‘em-alive-o for his horny flip-flap. Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 36: It was solid marrow-bone she wanted, and tons of it at that.at marrowbone and cleaver, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 32: My own modest arbor-vitae, though, as you may guess, shared no such disabilities.at arbor vitae, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 25: Charles’ Athenaeum was held firmly in the palm of his hand by his thumb.at atheneum, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 33: In vain I lubricated the threshold of the sanctuary with my young and semi-liquid baby-juice.at baby juice (n.) under baby, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 23: Take out that bald-headed hermit! (he interrupted himself) Whack it up! Wollop it in!at bald-headed hermit (n.) under bald-headed, adj.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 36: The P....e of W...s [...] was lifting for the final effort his fantastically-tattooed bean-tosser upon the stupendous crinkum-crankum of the Imperial fuckstress.at bean-tosser, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 5: He it was who painted a number in immense characters on the door of a girl he disliked.at big number, n.1
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 22: She shot off my well-oiled plenipo and was immediately split up from the fork to the shoulders by the giant callibistris of Lord R...y, whose affection for a buttered bun is only equalled by the size of his Julius Caesar.at buttered bun, n.1
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 36: The slippery and lax bung-hole of the flatulent monarch was ill-suited to my boyish chink-stopper.at bunghole, n.1
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 18: He [...] plunged his straining and kicking butter-knife within the hole thus formed. The foaming guts closed round his maddened member.at butterknife (n.) under butter, n.1
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 25: Gertie and Herminia seized each one of his shoulderblades in their gaping cabbage-fields.at cabbage patch, n.1
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 22: She shot off my well-oiled plenipo and was immediately split up from the fork to the shoulders by the giant callibistris of Lord R...y, whose affection for a buttered bun is only equalled by the size of his Julius Caesar.at Julius Caesar, n.1
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 22: Poor little devil! As I came, she shot off my well-oiled plenipo and was immediately split up from the fork to the shoulders by the giant callibistris of Lord R...y.at callibisters, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 36: Drop by drop I distilled love’s essence into that clinging carnal-trap.at carnal-trap, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 22: This truly formidable weapon is worth a moment’s digression [...] In erection the noble owner can lick the cheese from under the prepuce.at cheese, n.1
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 36: The slippery and lax bung-hole of the flatulent monarch was ill-suited to my boyish chink-stopper.at chink-stopper (n.) under chink, n.2
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 31: He was [...] but a worn-out reprobate, a fellow of Fumbler’s Hall, a mere butterfingers at coney-catching!at conycatch, v.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 36: The P....e of W...s [...] was lifting for the final effort his fantastically-tattooed bean-tosser upon the stupendous crinkum-crankum of the Imperial fuckstress.at crinkum-crankum, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 27: The engaging animal [...] exposed a superb and succulent cream-stick of some fourteen inches in length.at creamstick, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 21: I was hardly laid in my father’s arms before his doodle was between my baby legs and jerking its creamy essence into the sunny air of Rome.at doodle, n.2
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 25: Harry and Isaac had their drumsticks in his mouth; Katherine got a nose-fuck.at drumstick, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 34: I was able at leisure to achieve the fourteen fucks and a dry-bob.at dry bob (n.) under dry, adj.1
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 25: Alec had his middle finger in Ada’s eel-pot.at eelpot (n.) under eel, n.1
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 25: The amorous and quick-witted lad, placing his feet together, made a capital catch-‘em-alive-o for his horny flip-flap.at flip-flap, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 18: His tool still dangled outside his trowsers [...] and he had relieved his feelings by a juicy yet glutinous frig.at frig, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 20: Your gallimaufry is as sore as my gully-raker will be when you’ve clapped me, and pissing is like passing red-hot needles, and the stricture holds my fuck back till the crisis nearly blows its top off.at fuck, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 20: Now strip yourself and get a candle; lunge in front of a looking-glass and read and frig alternately [...] I want you to swim in a perfect ocean of fuck as you read.at fuck, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 31: He was [...] but a worn-out reprobate, a fellow of Fumbler’s Hall, a mere butterfingers at coney-catching!at fumbler’s hall (n.) under fumbler, n.
Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden 20: Your gallimaufry is as sore as my gully-raker will be when you’ve clapped me, and pissing is like passing red-hot needles, and the stricture holds my fuck back till the crisis nearly blows its top off.at gallimaufry, n.
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