Thanks for clicking in. I hope you dig some of my words. I hope some of them make you pause & think and others move you to action. I hope . . . yeah, whatever. By the way, the background image is an embroidered mantle from the Peruvian Paracas culture ca. 600 b.c. It depicts flying figures with their hair streaming in the wind. Each one is carrying a spear or a baton in one hand and a fan in the other. Flying - VM
dance their vaginal best and they get so curvy down when the hand is
full of cash and their breasts are being slaved on and caressed.
Rum and Raven
understand what my deal is and I get turned on by their phreak-on
vibrations; but baby dolls don’t wanna get left out of the rhythm and sweaty
grind either so they shout it up out of control and they love me through the
heartbeat and my cold soul. Man, what a scene of perversion and wrongs. In my
bathroom – gunning it on the sink shaking pictures breaking sounds. In the balcony
with a green bandanna making it easy for Rum t’see the sky bracing for her
screams. In the style of the dogs. In the gutters of my mind. In her salty meat
that told me she was prime time 1969 as we went for that last rainy mile fortifying
the loaded roars of thunder glassing up our pouring night.
And I pushed
that final button best as I could and spent the evening my way.
Later hours as I
was stepping out I looked in my floor mirror to confess my regrets and saw the
feathers passed out in her sinful hands – the cabs were going by outside on
their cold, secret roads to Crosstown and I flagged the odd one down and got in the
backseat. I was addicted to their wine; the rain had stopped long enough for me
to sit back in my seat and take note of the pulse and again pretend my memories
of perfumed slaves and angels and the evils we’d done had not skinned another
layer of my thin self.
After the last
pulsing thrust. In my shining moment with my head in the sky, in mid-orgasm, I
felt her cloudy eyes washing over the length of my brown chest down to my
sweaty line. The entire performance was quite inviting and delightfully lewd.
But at one point
her eyes drifted away for a split second and that’s when I penetrated
her castle walls.
In the process I
“Lady of the
forgive my thrust-worthy intrusion but your
tulips are exceptional and mouthwatering.”