GYSO Drawing Part 34 - XXXMELONSXXX

Published: 2020-06-07

Introduction

Tim:
“Doctor! I’ve been feeling depressed lately. What do I do?”

“Have you tried imeloden?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s melon porn.”

To give you some context to this post, we’ve been planning to make GYSO Drawing Part 34 a post about melon pornography since at least Post 7. The joke is that we’re sexualizing something like melons, which is funny because the word “melons” actually has a sexual interpretation that we’re just totally ignoring.

So this post is probably going to be NSFW. Not Safe For Watermelons. That doesn’t make sense.

Hold on. We’ve actually got to make pictures for this one…

See? This is going to be a disaster. I mean it’s going to be hot as shit. This picture was actually uncomfortable to make, so you better fucking jack off to it or it’ll all be for naught. Do it. You’re aroused by the melon, right? RIGHT?

Let’s move on.

Thor:
I think melons are object of pure, intense sexual power. Ironically, of course. That’s not something I believe in real life.

As always, I’m just copying Tim’s layout and trying to make something more extreme. Here’s what comes up if you search “hot melons” on Unsplash.

I thought there was going to be a lot more photos like that one, but it’s mostly just melons in very hot places. Like out in the sun. Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin that picture by badly pasting together some bad png underwear shit on it, so I’m just going to let that be my contribution of “actual picture of hot melons” for this post.

Shout out to Dainis Graveris on Unsplash. Now, my dude Dainis has revoked his right to be named as the author of this piece of art when he uploaded the picture as public domain to Unsplash. But because this is picture, in this context, is so fantastic, I’m temporarily reinstating that right. Good on you for sexualizing women and melons in the same picture. Absolutely fantastic!

In some ways I’m kind of sad that this is happening now. Post 34 has been such a recurring joke, assumed that we will never get here, that my expectations are on cloud nine. I get this weird, excited, elated feeling in all my senses. Like I’m really light-headed and could do anything in the world. Hey where’s my bagel no wait my melon?

What went right?

Thim:
Eating melons is perfectly reasonably sexual experience.

While researching this post I decided to eat some cantaloupe. It’s not watermelons, but it still fits into the idea of melons. Fuck you it counts. Literally. Fuck you. And melons. Melon porn. Yee haw.

Anyways, I was going on about how cantaloupe turns me on. And it isn’t because it’s nearly impossible to spell without looking it up. Seriously, how do words like cantaloupe and chuahuahua chuwawa chihuahua get the way they are? Were they neglected as children? Actually, they were probably the opposite of neglected: they were given parents that decided that they were useless as words and didn’t deserve reasonable treatment from those around them.

The best way to eat cantalope cantaloupe is to put some salt on it and eat it in tiny chunks, savoring every salty sweet moist bite like it’s the last food you ll ever eat. Oh my god I love cantaloupe. Holy fuck. Hey is that cantalope in my pocket?

You get what I mean, right? It’s intimate. You’re becoming one with nature (and the copious amounts of salt that you’ve put on it). It nourishes you in a way that no bowl of cereal or inferior whole-grain granola bar could. And when it’s done you sit back and look around you and realize that you’ve overindulged. That realization, for some reason, hits you before you remembered that forgot to grab some tissues to clean up with.

I know I’m really stretching the metaphor here, but just play along, okay? Just imagine eating cantaloupe and liking it a little too much. Lick the melon. Love the melon. Eat the melon. Buy more melons. Buy buy buy consumerism yum melons porn consume eat melons lick mmmmm.

What went wrong?

Thim:
> I have an insatiable lust for melons

She said as she put the dripping wet watermelon and gently moist her lips with it. She took the melon about an inch away from her mouth, which was now pumping sexual melon-tension into the air with more intensity than the enthusiasm my grandmother has when I call her once every two years. Looking out the window, she softly closed her eyes and slowly let her tongue emerge from her maw-gaping void, lightly flicking the seeds of the melon off the melon. Every time her tongue reached the end of it’s reach, she would emanate a soft moaning, tensing her entire body just a little before she relaxed. The vibrations going through her body would visibly shake her beard, letting a few drops of soaking watermelon juice drip onto her white dress.

After about 43 minutes, and six watermelons being manually licked dry, the dripping started to reveal the human melons on this magnum sex monster of a being. With a sigh of frustration she said

Don’t you like my melons?

and stood up, taking another melon from the rack. As she did so, her legs made sure to stretch their infinite mass of pure sexual muscle mass before you, allowing the shapes of hips and buttocks, more tender than any of the seven melons sexually assaulted before you could ever have dreamt of being.

Hit my melons, daddy!

She screamed as she remembered the coming alien invasion. Not the cumming alien invasion. Just the aliens. NASA found out that the alien armada was going to arrive about 15 years from now, and nobody was really doing anything about it because it was 15 years out. People were talking about it, and politicians were making promises, but nothing was happening.

But the whole thing was stressing her out, which was why she was fucking melons. She put the next melon on the counter and sat on the floor, wondering what she was doing with her life. This fetish started so young, she didn’t even have a chance.

The melon rolled off the counter and exploded on the floor.

She orgasmed and cried. The aliens would come and nobody was doing anything about it, and the people that did want to do something about it couldn’t make any significant difference. And everyone was distracting themselves with melon pornography. They couldn’t even escape to Mars, since Elon Musk claimed it as it’s own country and walled off everyone with an IQ lower than 130.

She was having sex with melons. She didn’t make the cut.

She took the last melon and held it close. It was a classic non-mars melon. The new mars melons were better in every way, but she had a sentimental fondness for classic old-style melons. She started to cry. Maybe Mars would save them from the invasion, but knowing them they would probably just create a peace treaty and start trading hyper-optimized melon pornography with the aliens instead.

With one final sigh she suppressed all that worry and focused on her melon sex. Enjoying one of her favorite Mars-based fantasies.

Give it to me M-Elon Musk baby! Take me away!

What happens next?

Thim:
I also drew a picture of melons. Since I’m actually Tim and Thor fused together somehow the picture came (ha!) out a little weird. Still, I hope you love it.