Ragheads

Ragheads

Daesh Isis ragheads are just that. Doing rather nasty things to other Muslims, non-believers and anyone else who crosses their path. Chopping off hostages' heads, burning captured pilots alive, drowning other Muslims, setting car bombs off and pimping young girls as wives/sex slaves. Many disaffected white honkeys jog off to join Daesh. The reasons are many: to kill, get an under wife, have an adventure, escape the law or join the raghead caliphate. Some think Daesh are the West's puppets. Made by the USA. The reason has gone. Now we must kill them. Christians v Muslims in a holy war crusade. One thing which is cool is seeing smart bombs kaput the ragheads. Send them off to meet their maker. If they're blown to pieces, will they get 72 virgins? A shame we can't ask them. The trip is one way.

my haiku poem lol

Stroking Alsatian / Oil tanker sails past, huge joy / Woof! Tasty meal, you 

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Six by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Six by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Copyright 2015 Jimmy Boom Semtex. All rights reserved.  

ISBN: 978-1-326-35684-2

Tanya’s Fire

Fire Extinguisher Man was on the train to see Tanya in Cornwall. Time for some action. It was good to keep the ball rolling. It was only a few hours ago that he’d been shagging Mina in a London pub. That was a real laugh. The gigolo sent Tanya a text:

hi babe im on my way 2u now.time 4 sum action luv.xxx

Five minutes passed before a reply came back. Tanya was surprised:

on the way now luv?wow.cant beliv it.you drivin or train?cant w8 for your big cok inside me mmm.tanya.xxx

I’m on it. She wants it really bad. This is going to be good. Hope she’s there when I arrive. Fire Extinguisher Man smiled. He was always ready for action.

im on the train luv.wil xplain l8r.cu soon babe.cant w8 2be nakd wif u.xxx

Tanya replied quickly:

hugs.cu soon lovr of mine.txt me the time ur ther.xxx

The gigolo texted his arrival time and sat back to enjoy the trip. In his mind he went over what to do to and with Tanya.

***

“Hi Tanya. I’ve just arrived from London. I’m at the train station. Come and meet me babe,” the gigolo said when he called her.

“Woo hoo! You’re here already? I’m on my way to meet you then. Give me ten minutes,” Tanya replied. She was happy.

“Ok babe.”

A few minutes later Tanya arrived. She ran over to the tall slim ex fireman and embraced him. She knew who he was immediately. He looked at Tanya and knew she was fun.

“I’ve just been shagging a one legged half blind girl in a London pub,” Fire Extinguisher Man explained.

“Really? Was she any good?” Tanya asked with a look of disbelief.

“Yes, she was entertaining and knew what to do,” chuckled the gigolo.

“Well then, I’ve got to see what I can do to better her.”

“Sounds great.”

They went to her car, a small Fiat Panda. In a few minutes they were at her place, a small house on the edge of town. On entering, she told Fire Extinguisher Man to sit down and made him a coffee. Then she joined him. While she drank her drink she stripped off her clothes. Talk about straight to business! He finished his drink and stripped naked.

Good job I showered at the London train station. Tanya would still smell Mina on me. The gigolo believed in hygiene and professionalism.

“Touch me, if you want,” Tanya invited him.

“May I?” he replied.

“Yes, you may.”

He stroked her brown hair and soft white skin. She was very nice. He kissed her cheeks, lips, neck and breasts. Then her belly and legs. She laughed. Was she ticklish? Yes!

HAVOC

HAVOC

The A20 Havocs scream over Holland at fifty feet

looking for trouble in their game of death,

they attack the canal network, a flight of six planes.

Turning tightly they start their runs,

shooting tracer shells that rip open the flimsy barges.

In a huge blast the ammo load goes up, taking a plane with it,

falling debris and bits of fire, nothing more.

Yet it doesn’t matter – the others release their bombs

turning a dozen of the beetle-like transport barges into matchwood.

Attacking the canal wall, they breach it in three places,

water running over the fields like a rampaging storm tide.

Nazi gunfire fans out across the sky, reaching for the planes,

claiming another one for their daring air raid, still a success.

German Army supplies destroyed, no more food and bullets

for the enemy troops – worth six men and two planes,

the price of war.

released 2 new collections of older work

Erotic Treacle

This collection features four of Nick Armbrister's varied erotic short stories.

They Agreed is about a mysterious European gothic girl called Varna. Norman goes to meet her from England. They get to know one another in every way.

Little Red Lise is an erotic tale of Lise, who loves the forest and her small pond. She meets a strange wartime pilot, Wolf. Things soon get heated.

Bunker Down Panda Boy is about two 'people' living in the forest. Bob and Pito are a couple with a difference. Check them out.

Death of the Old West is about a cowboy/drifter who wanders about alone. A nuclear was ravaged society and he seems to be the only one left. Maisie keeps him company.

http://www.lulu.com/shop/nick-armbrister/erotic-treacle/ebook/product-22288491.html

Syrup Evermore

Check out Nick Armbrister's new short story collection. There are two gangster stories, a horror one and a war one.

Gangsta Boyz features tough gangsters doing a jail break with a difference. Will they bust their mate out or not? Enter their violent world.

Gangster Fright is a complimentary story with gangsters, drungs, guns and double crossing. Who is loyal and who is the crook? Dare you find out? And who will die?

Finland Station Soviet Style is a classic vampire tale with a difference. The vamps fight the Soviet army! Will the blood suckers win or the soldiers and tanks? The war takes place in Finland.

Red Empire is a classic cold war story of jet fighters intercepting a mysterious plane near the remote Russian frontier. The Motherland needs protecting. Will war erupt or peace reign?

http://www.lulu.com/shop/nick-armbrister/syrup-evermore/ebook/product-22288540.html

released 2 new collections of older work - Nick's world of writing

released 2 new collections of older work - Nick's world of writing

The Humble Maid - Erotic Confessions of a Domestic Goddess by Jimmy Boom Semtex

The Humble Maid - Erotic Confessions of a Domestic Goddess

by Jimmy Boom Semtex

ISBN: 978-1-326-37100-5

Ms Wong, or Sue as she liked to be known, was a humble God fearing girl. She was thirty five but looked much younger, as did many Asian ladies. Her ethics were simple: work hard, be honest, trustful, humble and respectful. This was what kept her in her job for so long. But there was one last trait that Sue had and it was a secret she cherished. It was to have fun. Lots of fun. In Asia, 'fun' meant sex. Not fun like playing video games, reading books or going to the mall. No, sex was something that Sue enjoyed and got whenever she could. What her dear darling husband never knew wouldn't hurt him. There were many sexual conquests, this story will detail a few of them.

Most of Sue's time was spent working. Up to sixty hours a week, each day, every day. There was no time off to hang out with friends, go to a night club or have a boyfriend. Sue was chained to the sink. Her boss kept a close eye on her and her control was firm. She understood this and worked with it, to her own benefit. For example, when the plumber called round to fix a leaking tap, he got more than cash payment for his work. Sue the domestic goddess fucked his brains out. Her boss was at work doing her day job of Store Manager in a big city store at the time. Sue was home alone. And within reason, could do what she wanted.

Plumber to the Rescue

He called round to fix the tap. Sue spent hours mopping up the never ending stream of water. A call to the plumber brought an end to the problem. He was a big middle aged man, around fifty, with sandy hair and blue eyes.

"Looks like a leaking tap," the plumber commented, stating the obvious, as he looked at the faulty tap.

"Yes, it's leaking," Sue replied.

"We'll soon have it fixed." True to his work, within thirty minutes and a coffee later, the tap was good as new. The plumber left the kitchen and walked into the front room. He had the surprise of his life when he saw Sue, naked, sat on a chair patiently waiting for him. His eyes never left her slim sexy body.

BROKEN GLASS

Broken glass is such a beautiful thing.

It can be found everywhere we go

There is no escaping it.

I hold a piece up to the sun

It catches the colours of the rainbow

On its fractured surface, all the

Shades of the sun and more.

On the beach pebbles are made

From pieces of glass that

Once were bottles and all things nice.

Smooth and rounded by the tide

There’s always a jagged edge where

The sea can’t reach, to catch

The sun and blind your eyes.

Shattered pieces of a car’s

Windscreen are all the same shape,

All square and sharp

To cut your delicate fingers.

Be careful, the beauty of glass

Will take no prisoners and it’ll

Make you pay for its beauty.

The Humble Maid - Erotic Confessions of a Domestic Goddess by Jimmy Boom Semtex - Nick's world of writing

The Humble Maid - Erotic Confessions of a Domestic Goddess by Jimmy Boom Semtex - Nick's world of writing

The Humble Maid - Erotic Confessions of a Domestic Goddess by Jimmy Boom Semtex

http://www.lulu.com/shop/jimmy-boom-semtex/the-humble-maid-erotic-confessions-of-a-domestic-goddess/ebook/product-22287194.html

varied new JIMMY BOOM SEMTEX madness poems

Oil

Some people are green with no life experience. Wet behind the ears. They can't work a washing machine. Life for them will be hard. Vertical learning curve.

Others are yellow. Real back stabbing bastards who'll step on your corpse. Not looking over their shoulder as you burn. The worst type of bastards. I know many.

Zenith

Love will heal everyone. Even those who blow their brothers and sisters up. It will heal people with issues.

Love will heal the white supremacist who walks in Charleston with a Nazi blood banner.

Love will heal the Ku Klux Klan members who wave their Confederate Dixie battle flags.

Love will heal the Muslim extremist who walks thru London with his baby on his shoulder, both draped in individual ISIS Daesh flags.

Love will heal everybody and unfuck the world.

Who the fuck are we kidding?

Ground Desert Tree

I ground myself and am closer to my Earth Mother. I imagine that I'm a tree. Grounded to the earth. Becoming my earth. Connected to a tree. Even if I was in the desert where nothing grows. I'm a tree. Linked to Mother Nature. part of the endless circle of life.

All Wired Up

Bird on a wire with an art gun. Oh not in the sky. Stoned on turtle cigars. No flying. Light headed oh yes. Sickness from high speed turns? Feel the G force kick in on those wicked turns. I watch you with envy. Wish I could fly like that. Better than the green lizard thirty feet up on a wall. He can climb vertically. You can fly in three dimensions. Which is cool. Put there by a witch? No by mother. She smiles from a down at me from a sickle moon. In a verdant powder sky. How do I fit into all of this. I watch. No more.

Orange

I remember the big orange coloured car from when I was a kid at Siloth. Seeing the stop cars smash up and crash. The trucks crashing into one another were cool. One could only turn one way. Bang! Revving engines and broken vehicles. Debris on the ground. Me, a kid. There with my parents on the old airfield. Orange car. Shaped like a real orange. Where do the people sit? I want to drive it. A decade too young. Crazy kid's memory now as an adult. Looking back. Hudson bay is over there. They splashed down seaward, not making it. Oh, to carry that! Orange car in my head. No drugs needed. Who designed it? The Del Monte man? I need a drink of brandy now. With orange and ice. Adds to my years.

Dark Delectable Delicious Destructive - Poems For Goths, Gangsters and Other Mysterious Souls 20 Years of Nick Armbrister's Dark Poems

Dark Delectable Delicious Destructive -
Poems For Goths, Gangsters and Other Mysterious Souls
20 Years of Nick Armbrister's Dark Poems

YOUTH TRAGEDY
Many millions strong, an army in the making
of powerful emotions and thoughts.
What is my generation to think of this?
Young in my own eyes, two generations under me
are rising above me right now.
Some make it, some don’t, some are good and do it right,
some are bad and do dark deeds.
They better do it right as soon they’ll be running
this damn country, coming into jobs
and careers – responsible ones.
Laws of averages, rise and fall,
what do we make of the crazy ones?
Stealing cars, selling drugs, mugging pensioners.
What comes around goes around
but right now many fall and some don’t make it.
Teenage suicide, hard times, cost of life.
Only so much prison some can take.
White, black, Asian, all creeds.
All the same and an island of emotions,
let loose in an uncertain world.
Good ones are separated by a dividing line,
doing apprenticeships, finding jobs,
a new career. How the gap widens, of no in-betweens,
just people who live their lives and in their own worlds.

AEROPLANE POEMS 2 BY NICK ARMBRISTER

AEROPLANE POEMS 2 BY NICK ARMBRISTER

Strike
(dedicated to F-105 pilots and their nuclear mission. Cuba 1962 anyone?)
I can finally say I feel a strong sense of duty and contentment as I do my job, all I ever trained for has come together when events bigger than me came to life. My job is to end life, not yours but your counterpart in the East. Mr Ivan Ivanovich in his collective Soviet missile factory making his nuclear bang sticks to fire at us. We’re the Good Guys who believe, fight and die, for peace, liberty and freedom. The Bad Guys believe in tyranny, oppression and furthering their cause. Together we will stop them and show them no fucking mercy. Godless bastards!

My shiny silver United States Air Force Republic F-105 Thunderchief sits armed with a 1 megaton thermonuclear bomb snug in her bomb bay. Ready for me to fly into Russia on a one way suicide mission to kill Mr Ivan Ivanovich and a million of his kind and their families, to wipe out their collective Soviet missile factories and all of the other Commie shit that is against freedom. All are targets in my nuclear gun sight. I nod to the armed guard who stands by my warplane, do the walk round check, including the single bomb, sign for the jet with her ground crew and climb aboard.

I do my take off checks, start the huge single engine and taxi for takeoff. There are fifteen other F-105 nuclear strike fighters. All armed with the same type bomb, for a similar one way mission. I listen to my radio and the tower gives us permission for a Hot Scramble. Even now, Soviet bombers and missiles could be on their way. We can shoot their slow lumbering bombers down; their missiles will get through, like ours. We have more. Here we go! Slowly picking up speed down the long runway, will need most of it in my loaded jet. So heavy with fuel.

A NATION IN FLAMES Short Stories WITH A GOTHIC, MILITARY & SF FLAVOUR  by Nick Armbrister

FINLAND STATION SOVIET STYLE

A snow covered landscape stretched on for infinity, mirrored only by the vast empty blue sky arcing overhead, seemingly forever. With the horizon in reality only miles away and the enemy closer still, this was a time to be cautious if one wanted to live, to survive the new and most deadly threat that was here and now. Yet coming out of his mind and looking forward to the lower snow and upper blue, he knew only the beauty of the landscape and of the moment, calming him. 

He felt it was time to move from his hiding place, a collection of fallen trees and debris left over from the last Winter and a time of peaceful lucidity. Stopping to brush snow from his long white leather overcoat and Soviet style tank helmet, he stood up and picked up his Machine Pistol, a short fast firing nine-millimetre affair with a full magazine of fifty rounds. All stolen from a dead Soviet tank man in a previous battle several weeks before, spoils of war. His eyes missed nothing and he surveyed the scene taking in every detail, looking, waiting for movement – nothing but snow, trees and the ground before him. No tanks, no diesel exhaust hanging in the air, no smoke from burning vehicles, no advancing soldiers, for now. 

How long had it been like this, living in the fear that every day could be his last, knowing that his country could be disassembled like a broken engine and rebuilt Soviet style, another Soviet Republic under the boot of Moscow? Occupied by an enemy army who had killed and murdered and destroyed to achieve their aim, the aim of occupation and of war. To take all they wanted by force, if necessary, as politics with a veiled threat had failed, invasion was the only alternative left. They had crossed the border area a scant few miles ahead of him and set up camp, brought up massed reinforcements of tanks, fighting vehicles, personnel carriers, supply trucks and a whole lot more, the tools of a modern army. Several villages and small towns had already fallen in less than a week of fighting, at first surprised and then overran in short order, the inhabitants panicking, fleeing, fighting and then dying. But they managed to get word out, had succeeded and now an army, a Finnish army was fighting the Soviet invasion, as their grandparents had done over sixty years ago. How history repeated itself, the big soldier grimly thought. This time we would win, we had our allies, brought out of hiding and now ready to join us to defend their, our, sacred homeland. No matter how long this takes, how much blood is spilled, we will prevail and fight our common enemy to the end.

In the huge grey stone castle atop the precipitous cliff, battle plans slowly formed in the minds of people who were no longer human – who had preternatural power beyond the scope and understanding of all but a few humans, now their allies by coincidence. For now. The leader, standing seven feet tall, spoke loudly and grimly in a voice that deserved respect, servitude: “We have seen from our forward observers that the area here” – he pointed at the map on the study wall with a laser pointer –  “and here is occupied by lead elements of the 6^th Soviet Tank Army and 8^th Mechanised Infantry Brigade. They are dug in, in defensive positions, to consolidate their ground and have deployed a number of mobile Air Defence weapons to provide layered defence. These systems include the Lada short range point defence missile, the Skoda medium range missile, the Trabant long range missile together with an assortment of shoulder fired FSO and Zil missiles and Yugo anti-aircraft artillery. Our air attacks have failed to destroy the Soviet defences; when we destroy one position, they bring up two more to replace it.” With this disclosure, the leader smiled painfully. “We knocked out eighty-three tanks, two-dozen APCs, numerous missile and gun positions and crews and Soviet infantry besides. Yet this action cost us a third of our air force and twenty pilots killed or missing. This can’t continue – we will lose our prestigious air force and be naked to more Soviet aggression; our beloved country of Finland will be theirs for the taking…”

Juniper’s Daughter: The Final War, A novel by Nick Armbrister

Juniper’s Daughter:
The Final War,
A novel by Nick Armbrister

“Oh, the usual I suppose. There could be a few or none at all. I wish that we had more trained staff like before the war but we will have to make do. I’ll see you later Sarah. I’ll be around if you need me,” Leah said before going off on her rounds.
Sarah got on with her work, she wasn’t paid but she was given food and any clothing she needed; money was a dinosaur from before the war. Now the financial economy was a distant memory, of no use now. Sarah had worked at the aid station for nearly two years like Leah, she liked her work and helping those who needed it.

John left the flat with Lee but they both went their separate ways. John decided to spend the first couple of hours of daylight scouting out, to see if he could come by anything “of interest”.
Lee headed off to organise an arms shipment to nearby Rochdale, to the ex-war veteran. As of late their arms stock was quite low, Lee wanted to trade for warm clothing, food and any useful information concerning rival gangs. Especially the ones who traded in guns.
John ended up at Arnie’s. Arnie was a local guy who reckoned he was a hard man, this was okay in his own eyes but to others he was a funny bloke just full of himself. He had moved about over the years to cover his own back after a number of dodgy deals had fallen through. He said he was an organised criminal.
“Okay,” said John, “but what do I get to see? Not much but I’ll crash some beers.”
“I’ve got some nice designer leather combat pants from before the war. Over two hundred pairs from a warehouse in Lees village. All sizes, never been worn. Make me an offer John boy.”
John swigged his out of date Sainsbury’s beer, contemplating Arnie’s offer. Was it a dodgy deal? This guy was known for it, John stared into space for a few minutes, thinking of details and of self-gain. People don’t give a fuck about looking cool but they want something useful everyday. Could these combat pants be traded further down the line?

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Six By Jimmy Boom Semtex - Nick's world of writing

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Six By Jimmy Boom Semtex - Nick's world of writing

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Six By Jimmy Boom Semtex

Fire Extinguisher Man is here. The man of the hour, the guy with the advantage over all men. Join him in five new stories where he has fun and does what he does best. You know what that is, don't you? Hmm? Remember Tanya? He pops over to see her by train. They're soon doing more than exchanging text messages. A top London business lady insists on a contract with a difference. Follow it and the rewards are great. Will the gigolo succeed or crash and burn? Meet the two cousins, Elsa and Kalia. They are a right pair. Add Fire Extinguisher Man and it's a right knees up. Other stories include a fake TV interview and some European action. Over 18s only. Get ready for action. Fire Extinguisher Man is here. Over to you.http://www.lulu.com/shop/jimmy-boom-semtex/fire-extinguisher-man-erotic-stories-series-six/ebook/product-22274729.html

Neo Soviet Flying Coffins

Neo Soviet Flying Coffins

Have no sympathy for the dead Neo Soviet pilots who die flying their death trap planes. Their own fault. Climb aboard your death trap and take off. Some of you fly over Ukraine and bomb and kill women and children. Some of you are killed in training crashes. Less Neo Soviet pilots to bomb Ukraine. War mongers! Backing terrorists who shot down a Malaysian airliner. Your leader, Putin The Dog, is a cunt. He's got the blood of innocent's on his hands. Of women and children, his own soldiers, Ukrainian soldiers but don't forget his own pilots killed in crashes. Because Putin The Dog won't buy enough new planes for his sheep dog pilots. We don't care how many die. It equals less bombs dropped on Ukraine. History will judge you all.

Gay Policeman - Nick's world of writing

Gay Policeman - Nick's world of writing

Gay Policeman

Gay Policeman

He was beautiful, the gay policeman. Wearing his silver swimming trunks. Baby oil glistened on his body. As he strutted his stuff in the gay club, it was heaven.

Everybody loved him. Even the straight people. Cat calls and cheers erupted as he cavorted on the stage. A random man, picked from the audience, added to the show.

They cavorted together. Bumping, grinding, holding hands, kissing. It was real, not an act. The acts came later, drag queens! The gay policeman would cum with many this night.

He was off duty, moonlighting to earn extra cash. His colleagues didn't know he was gay. It was his secret. Being a motorcycle cop was cool. Like an extra in a Clint Eastwood film.

Our gay cop looked good in uniform or out. He was a natural, the finest male there was. Was this why people asked him for his autograph? Coz they thought he was famous?

Or was it his beauty? Yes, a man can be beautiful. The reason was everyone wanted to be the gay policeman. He was just so natural, so relaxed, so real.

Maybe his next stage act should be arresting someone? He'd have so many takers. Just like in his day job, stopping naughty criminals and keeping the innocent safe.

Flotsam and Jetsam by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Flotsam and Jetsam
by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Copyright Jimmy Boom Semtex 2014 all rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-326-03532-7

Jelma toured Chen's Loquat factory. It was quite a place with dozens of workers in a modern facility. There were multi skilled staff, like Jelma's own Kazuki. The workers could work by hand or machine. Chen had spent millions building the place up from nothing. The design department was small for such a factory, consisting of only three staff. Chen gave Jelma an office with everything she needed: drawing equipment backed up by state of the art CAD equipment to design garments on and cutting implements along with several mannequins. She would design by hand, as was her way. Chen supported her on this. He knew it gave the best results by allowing Jelma free creative freedom.
"What do you think?"
"Stunning."
"I've got something even more impressive to show you. I want to know what you think about it, my dear Jelma."
The couple stopped off for a quick snack at the English cafe before going to town. Here, in downtown Shanghai, in the Global Harbour shopping mall, was a glamorous boutique, selling top brands, called Yangguan or sunshine. Chen wanted his lady to see something very important. She didn't have long to wait. Jelma had been to Shanghai before, itself an amazing mega-city of over twenty four million.

Bone Idle Cunt

Bone Idle Cunt

Lazy boy was just that, a bone idle bastard. Staying in bed all day sleeping, up all night playing computer games. Not working, never done a day's graft in his life. He's just like his mates.

No responsibility, no income, taking cash of their parents or the government. Or doing something 'illegal' like selling weed or pinching cars. That's fine in his eyes, makes him a bit of a loveable rogue. Tell that to the cops when they bust you or owner of the car you stole.

Why are you like this? Coz your dad was the same? Doing this crap in the 80s. Only is was cool back then, not menacing like today. Think of your potential, unused and wasted.

Your clock is ticking one way, you can't claim the years back. You should have finished school, gone to college, got a trade and been set for life. Instead of living a twilight life where you're the boss. Are you willing to stay this way forever?

Your dad is 43 and he lives this way. In a council flat, apart from your mum. Going to bed at dawn after smoking skunk and drinking cider. He's got his life sussed. What a role model you have.

When your pregnant teen girlfriend gives birth, your son will follow in your footsteps. No hope, no job, no cash, no life, another loser of criminal lazy intent. Dooming your family, town and country to the scrapheap.

No inspiration, no way to better yourself, a life all mapped out. Generational atrophy. Learnt the hard way. Not even the Prime Minister who threatens benefit sanctions or a job can help you.

Fire Extinguisher Man Erotic Stories Series Two by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Copyright 2015 Jimmy Boom Semtex. All rights reserved. 

ISBN: 978-1-326-16625-0 

They met in a hotel. They hugged. Fire Extinguisher Man felt Nalma's warmth. She wanted him. This fact turned him on; his weapon started to grow. He kissed her. Her mouth was exquisite. Standing together, embracing one another, they were one. Tongues clashed. He ran his hands up and down her back, all over her body, feeling her perfect figure. To her small well formed breasts. They were beautiful with hard nipples. Down her firm belly to her pussy. Nalma groaned and leant into him. He rubbed it hard, arousing her more. Never stopping kissing. Kiss, kiss kiss.

Fire Extinguisher Man lifted his Asian lady up and carried her to the bed. They still kissed. Nalma groaned. He placed her down and remained in position, on top of her. Lifting up her skirt, he gently stroked her long legs. With one hand he found her panties. Rubbing the front, she became wetter.

"Take me. Oh take me now!" Nalma gasped, at the height of arousal. Fire Extinguisher Man tickled her clit. She laughed and bit his lip.

"That's the way my Asian babe, that's the way. You're so bloody beautiful baby," Fire Extinguisher Man whispered, meaning it.

Inserting one finger, he massaged the sides of Nalma's cunt. Her legs trembled and she kissed for the Indian sub continent. A winner. With his free hand, Fire Extinguisher Man undid his belt buckle and slid his cream chino trousers down. His advantage popped out of his boxer shorts, ready for action. Working on Nalma's clit, he made her cum. It didn't take long. She screamed. Pussy juice ran over his hand. It smelled both musty and fresh.

Nalma placed a hand on his neck and they kissed some more. Her other checked out Fire Extinguisher Man tool. She swore when she realised how big it was. Taking the hint, her lover pulled her panties aside and put his massive cock on her pussy, pushing his bell end in. It was his turn to groan. Nalma's orgasm returned when Fire Extinguisher Man stimulated her, putting eight more inches inside her. Her cunt tightened on the massive muscle; he began pumping away for Pakistan. Asian babes were the best. They were so exotic.

Times of Nonchalance by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Times of Nonchalance by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Dedication
Dedicated to goths and weirdoes everywhere.

Copyright 2014 Jimmy Boom Semtex. All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-291-78103-8

Mood Time
With moods like an ambush predator, I don't need enemies. Every generation blames the one before. Who blames the future unborn one? Does the touch of God feel like the tiredness of death? Soaps are shit like most shit on telly. Food for robots and chavs. Turn the world upon its head. My ex says treat my girlfriend with love and respect and don't lose my temper. She wishes me all the best. You're a kerosene driven super bitch with man boobs.

JUNIPER�??S DAUGHTER PICKS A MAN - Nick's world of writing

JUNIPER�??S DAUGHTER PICKS A MAN - Nick's world of writing

JUNIPER’S DAUGHTER PICKS A MAN

JUNIPER’S DAUGHTER PICKS A MAN 

   On a cold rainy early winter night Juniper’s Daughter landed her flying disc on the car park of Aldi and went for a beer, she was dressed in casual attire so as not to stand out, she wanted a man and did it the old skool way. She sauntered in the bar, holding the door open with one hand and letting all of the men in the venue get a good look at her, in turn she took in each of them; most were crap but one caught her eye. She slowly looked his way and made eye contact and entered the pub, walking over to him. Two dozen sets of male eyes and several female tracked her as she went to the bar and stood next to the man, the witch shook her hair and ruffled it with her hand. Turning she glanced at the man and announced in her Danish accent, “Hi there, you gonna buy me a drink then?”

   The man looked at the young woman beside him noticing that she was toned up under her loose fitting casual clothes and replied, “Yea why not. What are you having?”

   “Why young man I’ll have you! I mean I’ll have a beer!” commented the girl.

   Laughing, the witch slightly blushing, this got the man excited and guaranteed his interest in her. His gaze never left Juniper’s Daughter. She looked into space at the spirit bottles upside down behind the bar. The man ordered the drinks in a flustered voice, losing his cool a little? She smiled gently at him and asked his name. He replied, “Jason.”

   “I’m Anna but people call me The Witch due to my blond hair and looks coz I’m from Denmark. I don’t mind that actually.”

   “Really? I’ve never been to Denmark though I like their beer they make, it’s really good. Have you drunk it?”

   “Oh yes my love, I’ve had it many times. Thanks for the beer.”

   The couple were quiet for a minute drinking their drinks and thinking about the other. He liked the blond lady, she wasn’t like local gals and did she really want him or did she slip up? She liked the young man from first glance and soon she would make love to him in her flying disc, disguised as a car, after their drinks. Moving closer to the man, Jason, Anna gently held his hand and slowly moved her face towards his and kissed him once on he lips. He didn’t back away or resist, he met her kiss and parted the witch’s tongue with his kissing her deeply, she closed her eyes and ignored the envious looks from other people at the bar and tables in the pub. A few people whispered and pointed, this doesn’t normally happen and who was this foreign exotic stranger? After a long timeless kiss, the witch let her hand brush Jason’s jeans feeling his bulge. They kissed again and finished their drinks. She whispered that she wanted him and held out her hand, he took it and followed her. Together they left the pub and walked over to the car park where her ‘car’ was parked. 

   Inside the Fiat Punto MK7, Juniper’s Daughter reclined the driving seat and smiled to herself; this cloaking kit on her disc sure was good, making it look like the newest souped up Fiat hot hatch. The guy was suitably impressed, “Nice Wheels!”

   “Thanks Jason. What do you think of me? Do you want to make love to me?” she said, smiling.

   “Yes please Anna!” he replied, nodding.

   “Let’s do it then!”

   The witch lifted up her skirt and her bare smooth legs shone in the dim moonlight, this excited the young man who touched her leg in awe, he couldn’t believe how nice Anna was. Like she wasn’t human! He ran his hand up to her thigh, she groaned in pleasure. He didn’t stop, going up to her fanny; she had no panties on! He felt her moist warm cunt and shaved pubs and stroked it gently. He brought her to arousal. Delicately he inserted a finger up her tight but well fitting hole. She grabbed his cock in his jeans, squeezed and rubbed the bulge in his jeans. It was plain to see what he wanted to do to her. There would be no backing out now.

   She kissed him deeply like a hunter after her prey, no let up even when it was cornered. Who was the hunter and who was the hunted? With one hand she undid his zip and flicked his dick out, she had done this many times before. His cock twitched in utter anticipation. Anna held his cock with one hand and wanked him off as fast as possible. Her other hand gently traced the outline of Jason’s neck for a reason only known to the witch.

   Her man moaned and screamed, “Oh yes!” as his cock bulged with blood and he spunked up. His cum shot out all over her hand, she went down to lick her hand and then the dribbling liquid from his dick; he groaned and closed his eyes while she sucked his cock. He struggled to finger her with one finger. Such was the event affecting him. His whole body felt light and his vision was unfocused in the darkness, he shut his eyes and orgasmic oblivion claimed him. His single finger inside the witch went limp. Juniper’s Daughter started whispering magical incantations only known to her. Jason couldn’t hear these and it would sound like she was calling his name. The circle was complete, she was sucking his cock and his finger was inside her pussy, soon she would make love to him and claim him for hers forever.

   Juniper’s Daughter removed Jason’s jeans so he was naked from the waist down; she lifted up her skirt and climbed on top of the youth ready to fuck him to death. A trick she had done many times and utterly enjoyed doing, a real thrill quite unlike any other. Jason moved underneath Anna, as she got comfortable, she whispered to reassure the lad that everything was fine. His large cock slid inside with little effort, her cunt was tight but well lubricated, immediately she moved gently up and down feeling his hardness fill her hole. She was on it and smiled, knowing she had her man, again. She rode him good and proper like it had to be done, getting every inch of his supersonic love muscle in her tight cunt. She shut her eyes and focused her magical power on her cunt. Her brow furrowed under her effort of making love and bringing her magical power online within herself. Almost silently she whispered her incantations. Jason thought she was whispering his name and he called back, “Anna, oh my Anna!”

   He started to cum up the witch, this was the signal to her pussy juice to do its own magic and it started to suck in the bucking lad, who was underneath the witch, inside of her.

   Up her cunt he disappeared, he screamed in pain as his penis was sucked deeper into the realms of the witch. What the fuck was happening? He opened his eyes wide with terror just as he came, his orgasm shooting through his body diminishing the pain for a second. He used this time to try and free himself but it was no use. Juniper’s Daughter had her man!

   “What the fuck are you doing?” screamed Jason in utter panic to the witch who still bucked and bounced on her victim. His balls were sucked up her cunt in a hideous action taking the flesh of his upper legs with them. This continued until his legs broke and snapped like matchsticks, he screamed and shouted in agony. People from the nearby pub heard this but didn’t interfere. They knew a forward gal like this could handle herself and if anything happened, it was Jason’s fault. Anna smiled and talked more loudly, she didn’t mind Jason hearing her secret spells; dead men told no secrets. Now his lower legs went up her cunt flesh, muscle, skin, bone and blood sucked up inside the small slim witch, to where?

   Jason waved his hands around and hit the witch but these made her punch him back, he fell against the seat unconscious. He was lucky he would die in peace. His upper body started its journey inside the witch under her magic power being sucked with the rest of Jason up into her cunt. In ten minutes it was over, not a trace of Jason remained, not even a drop of blood or a single hair. Anna smiled and brushed her hair. Leaving her Punto sports car she went to another pub in search of a new victim, she fancied her chances with a girl this time. It had been a while since she had lesbian sex… 

   Jason had previously abducted and murdered two teenage girls. His third victim was never aware she was his target or that her potential abductor was dead. Juniper’s Daughter had stepped in and stopped a monster. She knew who was innocent and who was guilty. It was a savage world and she was a savage witch.

Purple Turtle

Picnic by Jimmy Boom Semtex

© copyright Jimmy Boom Semtex 2015 all rights reserved.

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ISBN: 978-1-326-27084-1

Purple Turtle

My mobile is a purple turtle. Made in Red China by brain dead slave labourers. It has some wonderful features. These include:

Free TV. Pull up the delicate aerial and away you go. Ten channels and no licence. See the latest MMA fight or KPOP music video.

The 0.3 megapixel camera is so lousy it's funny. See the blurred photos of times gone by. Go to video mode, it's the same. Film yourself cursing a turtle.

Try the internet. Wifi works a treat. Login to Facefuk and say Hi to your mates. When the server crashes, login again. And again and again and again and again.

Upload a photo to Facefuk, that works fine. Your photo is there in triplicate. Isn't one turtle enuff? No, there's three!

You need a SIM card to use the phone for calls. I don't use a local one but my English chip. I can use the free net then. I use my exosketch mobile for calls.

Before you go online, the purple turtle phone needs a brain. A 4 gig card gives plenty of memory to surf the net, login to Facefuk and check the news. Forget Yahoo mail.

This is my SKK E99 mobile. It cost 999 pesos and it a joy to behold. Who needs touch screen? I've some chunky QWERTY buttons that'll last a decade.

My cool purple turtle phone with a screen protector. I promise to look after it and keep it forever. No upgrade needed.

Flotsam and Jetsam by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Flotsam and Jetsam 

by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Copyright Jimmy Boom Semtex 2014 all rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-326-03532-7

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/flotsam-and-jetsam/id929804962?mt=11

Due to the little party, Chiyo and Jelma never modelled the second dress. They saved the unveiling for a low key event in a small dress shop in Tokyo. Their stock mirrored freedom of expression and the breeziness of flight. Kazuki's dresses fitted right in there. The shop sold many of Jelma's work.

Jelma had had her hair specially done for it. My hair looks good. It just shows that the small businesses are the most original and innovative. And best. Like our Kazuki. A labour of love. Zenna did a great job on my hair. Stunning! Jelma looked at herself in the mirror in the little changing room while she got changed. There was only room for one. Chiyo had already got changed.

"Must be careful with this," Jelma whispered, taking the dress, her dress, off its hangar. She knew that a fine dress only looked good on a person, the right person. A size 16 dress would look silly on someone who was a 10. When she was changed, she looked in the floor to ceiling mirror. For five minutes. You'll do! Nothing's out of order.

Chiyo waited patiently for her boss. When Jelma emerged from the changing room, both women looked one another up and down. There was a pause; Jelma broke it. "Oh my God! Chiyo, you look fantastic. You really do."