The tropical storms on Isla Nublar always kept John Hammond awake. Tonight was no different. It was his first night back after a visit to InGen’s headquarters and the park was finally finished. He lay in his penthouse suite that overlooked the park, staring at the small balls of amber on the corners of his antique, 1840’s French colonial four poster bed. Outside, the wind and rain battered against the small, intimate balcony and it’s adjoining Azure double-glazed sliding doors. The sound was thunderous. Almost as thunderous as the actual thunder, which was really, really thunderous, probably about half as thunderous again as the wind and rain – which is no mean feat as the wind and rain battering against the Azure double-glazed sliding doors was loud. Real loud.

Hammond was old. Real old. Older than time some would say. The way the ends of the moustache on his craggy, unkempt beard would hang over into his slimy, putrid, almost-dead mouth and rub against his gut-churning small teeth certainly helped that assessment. He felt it. Decades had passed since his darling wife, Wanda, was taken from him by way of a bout of malaria, brought on by a mosquito bite. He wanted her back – but after years of botched cloning experiments, he knew it would never work. “Besides”, he thought to himself “I haven’t had an erection in 16 years and I’m rich enough to afford numerous chefs and housemaids – so what use would she be?”

He painfully rolled over to look at the time – 2:22am. “Gracious!” he thought, knowing it would soon be time to greet the two palaeontologista he had invited to the island. He needed to sleep bad. Real bad. “Exercise!” he thought, and decided to stretch his good leg. He walked to the Azure double glazed sliding doors and looked out over his creation, illuminated by the flashes of lightning scorching the night sky. “Better than ANY pussy” he muttered cheerfully to himself.

Just as he was about to turn away, the Marshall 150 watt oval PIR security floodlight Denis Nedry had installed the previous evening blinked on. Hammond peered into the abyss – all was still.


The lightning flashed across the sky, lighting up the room, almost blinding Hammond – as his eyes adjusted, he saw it there in front of him. A majestic, mastadonic, Brachiosaurus head, inches away from the glass. He was immediately rock hard. Hammond’s heart was racing, he hadn’t felt this alive in years. He could feel the blood pumping to organs not used in almost 2 decades. His throbbing member, once weak and limp, now straining against the red plaid drop seat flannel footed pyjamas he was wearing. There was something about the mighty sauropod’s long, muscular neck and bulbous, smooth head as it strained to get closer, glistening in the night time rain that excited John. He knew she was female, but that made it all the more exciting.

The gigantic beast gazed at the bulge in Hammond’s PJs and licked her lips. “Look” whispered Hammond, ” How do you like that – a living biological attraction so astounding that it’ll capture the imagination of the entire planet!” he laughed maniacally as the thunder crackled outside. He walked seductively to the sliding door and unlocked it, then took a few steps back. He looked into the monster’s eye and winked “Come and get it, big girl”.

The Brachiosaur, slowly moved towards the door and nuzzled it open. It continued to move towards Hammond, who by now was quivering with excitement. He could feel the beast’s breath on his shrivelled balls – and he liked it. The Brachiosaur extended it’s huge, slimy tongue and gently unbuttoned John’s fly. As John’s twitching shaft popped out, he gasped as the cold air caught him by surprise. The Brachiosaur took a few seconds to gaze upon John’s hardon in the kind of amazement only cloned vertebrate was able to express, then thrust forward, taking all of it in deep.

John groaned as the Brachiosaur dominated his every inch and only a few seconds passed before he erupted into the giant cock with legs mouth. He collapsed into a heap as the dino looked down on him. He gazed into her eyes lovingly for what seemed like an age, stroking her long snout. He whispered gently ‘Thank you’ – the beast looked back approvingly. Suddenly, John become more animated, he had noticed something.


A single tear dropped from the Dino’s left eye.

“Wanda! My love! It IS you!”

The cloning experiments HAD worked, she was back – it didn’t matter to John that she was now a 150ft tall and 90% Dinosaur DNA – he was no longer alone. Wanda gazed at him with that look he remembered all so well from many years ago. It simply said ‘My turn’.

In one mighty movement, Wanda turned over onto her enormous back and slowly spread her giant pod legs, arching her mighty neck to give Hammond another cheeky look, flicking her head back to beckon him towards her. John slowly got to his feet, limped to the balcony and smiled. He paused for a moment and looked upon his enormous cloned dino-wife and as the wind and rain battered his craggy, haggard face, he took a deep breath in, licked his lips and stepped into the night whispering “Welcome…to Jurassic Park”.

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