2. JET PORN! YAAAAY! ^_______^
Much has been said about the ickyness of Ed hentai on this page, but if there's one thing worse than Ed's virgin slit taking center stage, it's Jet's cyborg erection taking us all on a tender journey of self-discovery and erotic exploration. Jet is a grizzled ex-cop. Jet even seems to be a fairly good cook. The one thing Jet does not seem to be is a sexxxy hot love machine. He has little use for women, save the one that dumped him, but when the obligatory perfect self-insertion girl - oh, excuse me, hot-blooded captivating lady who will change Jet's life FOREVER - shows up, it's BONER PARADE AHOY.
Even the most rough 'n tough grizzled ex-cop has to unwind somehow
“I closed the bedroom door and went into the living room. I stripped down to my shorts, sat down on the couch, and lit a cigarette. Exhausted as I was, I sat up another hour, chain-smoking. I congratulated myself on sending Cherry to bed untouched -- that is, for the whole fifteen seconds I didn’t spend fantasizing about touching her.”
I'll give you a few seconds to paint a good mental picture of Jet Black in his skivvies. Done? Put the ice pick down, it gets better. Well, in the "which is better, cyanide or a shotgun?" kind of way, at least. After three more chapters of mind-numbing “plot” that the author hastily scribbled down inbetween revving up the Hello Kitty Kock, we finally hit paydirt.
“I wanted to play you, Cherry,” I said. “I wanted to torture you.” I lay on her, rubbing the head of my cock against her slick, swollen labia. Her breath came in gasps, in moans. “I wanted to wring you out. But you make me. Too. Fucking. Hot.” I guided my cock to the opening of her vagina and pressed, pushed, broke in.
“She cried out and clutched at the sheets, at the bedposts. I was fully in her, relentless, thrusting deep and hard. This was a side of me that I hadn’t known existed, a Black Dog that no other woman had seen -- certainly not Alisa, who I’d always treated like a fragile piece of breathing porcelain. Cherry was fragile, too, but so tight, so hot, that I wanted to fuck her until she broke. I never knew I’d want to do this to a woman. I never knew it would feel so good.”
“She cried out and clutched at the sheets, at the bedposts. I was fully in her, relentless, thrusting deep and hard. This was a side of me that I hadn’t known existed, a Black Dog that no other woman had seen -- certainly not Alisa, who I’d always treated like a fragile piece of breathing porcelain. Cherry was fragile, too, but so tight, so hot, that I wanted to fuck her until she broke. I never knew I’d want to do this to a woman. I never knew it would feel so good.”
I don't know what to say to this. For one thing, Jet is either gay or a virgin, according to the last sentence. I mean, Jet showed little to no interest in women during the whole of the Cowboy Bebop run, but isn't it a bit excessive to assume that he's never had any interest, ever? Then there's the dialogue. Did Jet Black actually utter the line "But you make me Too. Fucking. Hot?" or did I inadvertently switch from the awful self-insertion masturbation fic to some awful late-night soft porn? Oh, never mind, that just happens to be our fuckficmistress's only exposure to sex, ever.
“The bed squeaked and rocked, the headboard smashing against the wall, as if it had a mad life of its own. I lay my mouth against Cherry’s ear and whispered:
“Uns ergötzen die Freuden des echten nacketen Amors.”
“Und des geschaukelten Betts lieblicher knarrender Ton.”
She wept. She was drowning in me, her fingernails tearing at my back, the pain only making me buck harder against her. She clung to me as if her destruction were her salvation and arched her back beneath me. Her face flooded with red, and she cried out as the little death took her.”
“Uns ergötzen die Freuden des echten nacketen Amors.”
“Und des geschaukelten Betts lieblicher knarrender Ton.”
She wept. She was drowning in me, her fingernails tearing at my back, the pain only making me buck harder against her. She clung to me as if her destruction were her salvation and arched her back beneath me. Her face flooded with red, and she cried out as the little death took her.”
I've always said German was the language of love. Forget the Barry White, throw some Rammstein on and you're ready for some hot, angry, deutschland-style lovin'.
Oh, and from here on out, Jet Black will be known as “The REALLY Little Death.”
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