The milky vice of Yolanda Leche

In the telluric dullness of Sark Yolanda Leche lived, in a small farm, with her husband, Menelaus.

Menelaus Tarlipes. 

Bucolic were her afternoons, her husband didn't fuck her anymore, and she wanted to be fucked in the afternoon.

Yolanda Leche found -at last- new diversion, and some consolation in the horses of the stables, which were few, but had enormous cock.

Yolanda diverted her afternoons sucking equine dicks, which were too big for her mouth

the percherons and pintos filled her mouth with warm and thick milk, on and on, oooohh, and she chocked, asphyxiated with the horses cum that overflowed through her nose and mouth like a madness.

Because Yolanda Leche swallowed 10 or 15 litres of horse cum a day, because she was nymphiminiic; and the cum dripped heavily through her nostrils like whipped chantilly cream like a madness.

All this excess of equine lactose filled her organism with a surplus of hormones: her vagina started growing alarmingly: 

too late she realized

too late she understood, that her cunt was getting immense, like a rugby ball

the amount of hormones in the stallions cum made her clitoris grow, as well, as big as a bottle of Gini Cola®.

Her enlarged cunt needed to have the horses cocks inside, and so she was fucked by the stallions of the stable every afternoon, while she kept on sucking horse cock and swallowing horse cum every day, and her cunt became bigger and bigger like a madness.

In her deviation, Yolanda Leche needed to have 5 horse cocks in twat at the same time.

Then 6, then 7, then 8

then she had to buy more horses, to satiate her secret vice like a madness. 

Yolanda Leche dies, at last, with her vagina busted by 10 horse cocks fucking her at the same time, in deli(r)ious explosion of pleasure and leche like a madness.

The husband realizes she is dead 10 days later, when he goes to the stables by chance, looking for stick or hosepipe.

Apparently Yolanda Leche was buried vertically, like the Princess Jezebel, that princess from the Old Testament who passed away impaled by the chromium-plated penis of Baal. 

The head of Yolanda Leche was cut and donated to the commissaire of Boulogne-sur-Mer, who embalmed it and settled it on top of the Column of the Grande Armée, exactly over the head of Napoleon like a madness.

In the orange twilights of July, both heads, piled on top of one another, preside everything around, as the four eyes twinkle, digital, like those of the Medusa vigilante, watching the children play.