Ryan Thomason

The Adventures of Eric and Goosh: Ice Cream Erotica

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The problem with having 4 weeks worth of comics on hand? You forget when the last one was supposed to be published. Sorry about missing last Thursday, I got too adjusted to having so many comics already done and in the schedule bank to auto post. Have no fear! Eric and Goosh are still here, and they’re totally not, gay. Nor is this writer, not gay, no homo. Penis. Dammit.

A sugar ice cream cone sails underneath a a long metal shaft, it was held just far enough to not touch the metal spout. Slowly, soft serve chocolate and vanilla swirl ice cream lowered itself onto the cone, filling the hallowed insides of it like a river rushing through a void. A river that had been held back for far too long, until it built to an intensity that could hardly be contained.

As the empty pit that was once the inside of the cone filled up to it’s brim, slowly and with increasing up and down movements. The thick black and white swirl of soft ice cream built upon itself. Slowly rising from a small prick, rising farther and farther up. Up and down the motion of the cone went, with more ice cream rushing out of the metal shaft and finding it’s place on the ever increasing mounting tower of strong sturdy ice cream until it’s gait could barely be contained did the soft brown and white colored frozen, soft serve stop it’s near endless purge from the shaft, finally satisfied with the towering monolith that it had engorged onto the cone.

His tongue ran the length of the sturdy, but easily turned spill-able ice cream, the heat from his bated, waiting breath was already causing it to slowly melt away creating small droplets to slowly slide down it’s long stature. Those droplets were quickly lapped up, his tongue ravaging the frozen landscape until the inevitable. Slowly it was inserted into his mouth in full and he slowly pulled it….

“What the fuck are you doing?” Eric said, with a stern voice

Goosh took his ice cream out of his mouth and continued eating. “It’s fucking ice cream, you eat it.”

“There is eating it, and then there is straight up Ice Cream Molestation, you’re like…Catholic Preist on a Altar Boy with that thing you sick bastard.”

“I…..love ice cream?”

“You love something, but it i aint Ice Cream.”

“Vaginas, I love them!”

“Yes, perhaps, or some other Phallic thing.”

“Phallic? Is that like some kind of cool tribal thing?”


“Awesome! I’m all for Phallic’s….in my mouth.”

Eric could only chuckle to himself.

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