I’ll ride you to Hell, you lustful bastard!” she screamed, sitting down as if on a stake, on a love bone full of blood, and, as if in response, he began to steadily drive her straight into his hot, pulsating heart Bilko felt the walls of purgatory closing in on him as Barbara rode him, howling like a banshee bitch in the electric chair. When they both simultaneously reached the Darwinian goal, the shapes and sounds of the interior of the National Express faded into oblivion. and in their place rose a landscape of decadent and perverted desires; Bilko and Barbara created their own Garden of Earthly Delights and, when he spewed literally gallons of hot milkweed into her convulsing cunt, they realized that it was good.