Pterodactylocalypse

[ñͤͣ̄ͦ̌̑͗͊͛͂͗ ̸̨̨̣̺̼̣̜͙͈͕̮̊̈́̈͂͛̽͊ͭ̓͆ͅé ̰̓̓́ͯ́́͞]

cmon gaiz.

make dactyl love.

not war!

The damned pterodactyl was  right behind me... I knew I could never get away from it, not with the distance I still had to make to the door of my house. My back prickled as I sensed it swooping closer, and I wheeled around in desperation, ready to fight to the last with my bare hands. But why wasn't the cursed beast attacking me already? Instead, it had landed, and was prancing a bit awkwardly and making a strange creeling call. Mesmerized, I could only stand and watch its hypnotic dance and the bobbing of its head as it pranced ever closer. It wasn't until it was nearly upon me, wings spread, that I noticed it was a male.

It pinned me every so carefully up against the side of my garage, and I was stunned by the heat and urgency with which it was rubbing its firm, satiny body against me, until I could feel the throb and swell of its penis growing erect. Unbidden, I felt in myself a matching heat spreading from my loins, and for the first time I realized what was about to happen... so wrong! But I had no choice. The razor-sharp beak of the wicked animal clacked softly, only inches from my ear. And, I realized with a thrill of the forbidden, I wanted it! I wanted to feel its hot pterodactyl prod inside me. I caressed the beast, tentatively at first, running my hands over its dry, slightly velvety hide, and it responded with increased enthusiasm. I reached down and grasped its hard, wet, and slightly prehensile erection, and it let out a soft "creeeeeel" in my ear. I slid to my knees and breathed hard against the silky membranous skin for a moment, letting the rich aroma of pterosaur musk drift to my brain.

I let the head slip into my mouth and press against my tongue, melting into the heat and instinct of sucking. I caressed the base of its tail while pulling
it in as deep as it could, pressing my nose into the beast's skin, sliding my tight-kissed mouth up and down his length, slowing and quickening with the rhythm of his clacking, and his wing-claws on my shoulders and in my hair. I felt the throb and beat of his blood and the flexing of his haunches as my pterodactyl lover went weak-legged against me, and I held him close with one arm, keeping him tight to my face while with the other hand I stripped off my button-front dress to press my sex-wakened breasts against his knobby little knees. I pulled off his beast-organ with a wet little "pop" and edged myself to my back, and the creature fell atop me, eagerly thrusting. I pulled my soaking panties down to offer my wet pussy to his ready pterodactylhood, and he entered me, plunging deeply with a reverberating screech. I answered his cries with my own wails of ecstasy, as he bucked and thrust into me, his prehensile penis bringing me to the brink of prehistoric bliss in our unholy, unnatural, and anachronistic coupling. Finally, in a crescendo of clacking and creeling, my new master pulled out of me and I spasmed into orgasm as I watched his hot custard-colored lizard cream rocket forth and cover my tits with pungent Mesozoic cum.

I no longer fear the pterodactyls, as I have learned that their blood-thirst can be quenched... with good good loving.

[Cramulus]

cmon gaiz.

make dactyl love.

not war!

The damned pterodactyl was  right behind me... I knew I could never get away from it, not with the distance I still had to make to the door of my house. My back prickled as I sensed it swooping closer, and I wheeled around in desperation, ready to fight to the last with my bare hands. But why wasn't the cursed beast attacking me already? Instead, it had landed, and was prancing a bit awkwardly and making a strange creeling call. Mesmerized, I could only stand and watch its hypnotic dance and the bobbing of its head as it pranced ever closer. It wasn't until it was nearly upon me, wings spread, that I noticed it was a male.

It pinned me every so carefully up against the side of my garage, and I was stunned by the heat and urgency with which it was rubbing its firm, satiny body against me, until I could feel the throb and swell of its penis growing erect. Unbidden, I felt in myself a matching heat spreading from my loins, and for the first time I realized what was about to happen... so wrong! But I had no choice. The razor-sharp beak of the wicked animal clacked softly, only inches from my ear. And, I realized with a thrill of the forbidden, I wanted it! I wanted to feel its hot pterodactyl prod inside me. I caressed the beast, tentatively at first, running my hands over its dry, slightly velvety hide, and it responded with increased enthusiasm. I reached down and grasped its hard, wet, and slightly prehensile erection, and it let out a soft "creeeeeel" in my ear. I slid to my knees and breathed hard against the silky membranous skin for a moment, letting the rich aroma of pterosaur musk drift to my brain.

I let the head slip into my mouth and press against my tongue, melting into the heat and instinct of sucking. I caressed the base of its tail while pulling
it in as deep as it could, pressing my nose into the beast's skin, sliding my tight-kissed mouth up and down his length, slowing and quickening with the rhythm of his clacking, and his wing-claws on my shoulders and in my hair. I felt the throb and beat of his blood and the flexing of his haunches as my pterodactyl lover went weak-legged against me, and I held him close with one arm, keeping him tight to my face while with the other hand I stripped off my button-front dress to press my sex-wakened breasts against his knobby little knees. I pulled off his beast-organ with a wet little "pop" and edged myself to my back, and the creature fell atop me, eagerly thrusting. I pulled my soaking panties down to offer my wet pussy to his ready pterodactylhood, and he entered me, plunging deeply with a reverberating screech. I answered his cries with my own wails of ecstasy, as he bucked and thrust into me, his prehensile penis bringing me to the brink of prehistoric bliss in our unholy, unnatural, and anachronistic coupling. Finally, in a crescendo of clacking and creeling, my new master pulled out of me and I spasmed into orgasm as I watched his hot custard-colored lizard cream rocket forth and cover my tits with pungent Mesozoic cum.

I no longer fear the pterodactyls, as I have learned that their blood-thirst can be quenched... with good good loving.

re-bumped!

[Freeky]

There are no words. 

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Ba-bump.

[The Johnny]

I dont know where is the one with a bunch of BIKAWWW but i found this, i wonder if its indeed Cram who posted it:



source: http://9gag.com/gag/ay551Gy

[Left]

The ex and I went to the MNS and I saw some cast replica skeletons...

Unfortunately I was having a horrible panic attack and I was desperately trying and failing to find the exit.
...Which would have been an appropriate response to the originals...

Consider, though, the beak and wing shape.
You know what that reminds me of the most? Pelicans.
Especially that big-assed beak. 




I note the artists mostly depict it neck out...I *doubt* it.  Unless the fossils were laid down in that position...
The majority of shorebirds/seabirds/marshbirds fly with a retracted neck, and in postmortem rigor, their necks collapse into an "S" shape.
...As far as I know, the area in Texas where the fossils were found was a large shallow sea at the time when said fossils would have been deposited.
Some of those pillarlike mesas you see in west Texas look like that b/c they were once coral reefs.
Presumably they would use the ground effect to fly low over the water, like pelicans, and this Soviet plane here:

(Freaky looking plane found at:  http://inventorspot.com/articles/plane_flies_inches_over_water_5661 )

Land raptors don't have that big head or vulnerable neck, they use their feet as striking weapons:

Long beaks are for piercing and snapping, but not for ripping apart animals too big to swallow.
One would therefore assume, based on the successful shape of modern birds, that these were fish eaters.
These big honkers would have flown along the shoreline like silent death, I expect.

Though I do note here that I once saw a night heron flying along with what looked like a struggling baby rabbit in its' beak.
(One of these)

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I think that is a pretty tight theory.

[Suu]

I've been calling pelicans pterodactyls for years. 

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I've been calling pelicans pterodactyls for years. 

Yeah, me too.

[Eater of Clowns]

I've been calling pelicans pterodactyls for years. 

Yeah, me too.

I've been calling them pteroOH GOD OH SWEET MERCIFUCK NO!

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I've been calling pelicans pterodactyls for years. 

Yeah, me too.

I've been calling them pteroOH GOD OH SWEET MERCIFUCK NO!

[Doktor Howl]

Hylie,

We do not EXPLAIN dinosaurs.  We do not give them postmortems.  We FEAR the dinosaurs, and we placate them with the living bodies of our neighbors (before our neighbors do it to us).  Dinosaurs fly however the fuck they WANT to fly, and if they want to use their beaks to peel open an M1 Abrams battle tank ON THE FLY, then that's what they're going to fucking do and we DON'T FUCKING QUESTION IT.  OR ELSE.

Your friend,
Martin Bormann

[Suu]

Hylie,

We do not EXPLAIN dinosaurs.  We do not give them postmortems.  We FEAR the dinosaurs, and we placate them with the living bodies of our neighbors (before our neighbors do it to us).  Dinosaurs fly however the fuck they WANT to fly, and if they want to use their beaks to peel open an M1 Abrams battle tank ON THE FLY, then that's what they're going to fucking do and we DON'T FUCKING QUESTION IT.  OR ELSE.

Your friend,
Martin Bormann

[Left]

Hylie,

We do not EXPLAIN dinosaurs.  We do not give them postmortems.  We FEAR the dinosaurs, and we placate them with the living bodies of our neighbors (before our neighbors do it to us).  Dinosaurs fly however the fuck they WANT to fly, and if they want to use their beaks to peel open an M1 Abrams battle tank ON THE FLY, then that's what they're going to fucking do and we DON'T FUCKING QUESTION IT.  OR ELSE.

Your friend,
Martin Bormann