Aesop's Erotic Fables: "The Tortoise and The Hare"

There once was a hare who bragged about how fast he could achieve climax. "I can get there four times before you could even pull your turtle head out of its shell," boasted the hare. Tired of hearing his banter, and longing for the touch of another, the tortoise challenged the hare to a race to the proverbial finish line. The other animals of the forest did not consider this a wise decision. You see, the tortoise was a dried-up aged old man who hadn't been sexually active since a confusing and strangely erotic encounter with a teenage mutant ninja turtle nearly a decade ago. He didn't have much gas left in the tank, one might say. Or, rather, he didn't have many swimmers in the pool. No bullets left in the gun. No broth left in the turtle soup. You get the idea.

The animals of the forest gathered to watch the competition on a cold, wet Tuesday... the kind of day that makes a young robin's nipples poke ever so slightly out from her feathery bosom. As soon as the creatures decided the race would start (and the National Geographic cameras were rolling) the hare jumped out to a lightning pace. The hare was virile- young, strong, and stout of the carrot. It seemed as if he was born to breed, and the hare did not disappoint. In fact, he had produced two dozen offspring before the tortoise had even managed to become erect.

Basking in his initial victory, the hare stopped to rest in the thick brush along the side of the road where he had just impregnated a young bunny with sinewy legs and a cute, cottony backside. The hare looked back to the tortoise and cried out, "How do you expect to bust one when you are fornicating at such a slow, slow pace?"

The hare lit a joint and fell asleep, fantasizing about Lola Bunny and an Easter basket filled with Cadbury Eggs. He drifted off, thinking, "I'm like the fucking Energizer Bunny."

The slow and steady tortoise plodded along, humping methodically to a Styx melody playing softly in his Dolby Turtleshell Surround Sound. He thought about those vixen tortoises in the NES Mario games, shamefully avoiding eye contact with the lady-turtle he had just paid 5 lettuce leaves to screw. He fought back the tears of a wasted youth spent hiding in his shell, the long nights spent alone with a box of turtle food and a copy of "The Notebook."

The tortoise abandoned his partner and made his way over to the resting hare. He approached slowly and carefully nudged his turtley-beak-like-thing over the hare's legs. The hare did not stir. The animals of the forest quickly realized what was happening, and they began to cheer for the old tortoise. Before he even knew what he was doing, the tortoise was atop the sleeping hare, penetrating him with an urgency unparalleled in his sexual career. The hare awoke- stretched, and yawned, but it was too late. The tortoise had already climbed to the top of Mount Everest, so to speak. Or, rather, he achieved the big "O." He launched a man rocket. He delivered the payload to the back door. Got it?

The hare was embarrassed and humiliated. He had been defiled by the old tortoise. The triumphant shouts from the old tortoise could be heard across the forest; "Don't brag about your lightning pace, for slow and steady won the race!"

The hare lived with the shame for three years, but then eventually filed a lawsuit against the tortoise. The poor old turtle was convicted of rape and sentenced to the death penalty.


The moral of the story?

Never challenge a turtle to a sexual competition of any sort. 'Cause it's weird.

By The Gerk
from Arabian Monkey

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