Mr. Susan loved it rough. The loud crinkling and the grating, tingling sensations of Sandstorm rubbing all over him as they made love in the Mirror World. Sandstorm yipped gleefully with an insane delight looking at them all at different angles, his beloved soft and durable Mr. Susan moaning beneath him. The clothy body protected him as Sandstorm growled and leered, drool on his mentally challenged lips as they writhed and melded as one…soft meets rough, itchy meets wipey, jittery dialogue meets crazy crescendations of Mr. Susan’s yowling. Their faces were equally odd and weird with lack of emotion, wild crazy eyes attached to covered faces of strips, paper and fiber towlette, panting and exclamation. Susan’s mirrorballs clunked together in rhythm as Sandstorm rode the trapped dimensional ragamuffin, grasping and unafraid of wearing the durable mop-bodied man down with gloves and grating wrappings.
Hows this ma’am