The spectrum Green
Verdigris of bronze statues, downtown, on the way;
"The green door",
opened;
closed.
Her
cheap suit; the
palm trees on her new flip-flops; her
unbecoming new bra; the
scales of her dragon tattoo.
The gum she was using to make the saliva to blow me, and to dilute the taste of the latex; Trojan
packets and
boxes.
Garbage bags.
The white cup of
Listerine™ Angel brought me after I ate her.
{NA}
Roy G. Bi
v.
>> posted by John Psmyth
• 1/08/2005 11:16:00 AM
•
0 comments
She pauses, atop me, pumping her arms like a pom-pom girl, chanting:
"Ko-re-a! Ko-re-a!"
She has no English at all. Perhaps she's a chorus girl from the North? No—she mimes punching something, a ball!, she saw the World Cup!
She tugs the tip of my condom: Nothing but pre-come; she was overlubed, too loose, started the second service too soon, and I'm anhedonic. Rubbing her belly, holding up an invisible bowl, she chopsticks invisible food into her mouth. Must I mount her again?
Unwisely, she switches the light on: Her face is a patchwork: In the first flash, I take the lead-white for her skin, then flip the gestalt: It's the makeup she hasn't sweated away.
"How was the service?" asks the mama-san, holding the door.
"Good!"
What else could I have said? After all, when I got up on all fours and shoved my ass in the air, she pegged me and fondled my balls, and when I pushed back she reciprocated, digging her hot small conical finger deeper up me. And when I reached back and up to push her hand away from my cock, because I didn't want her to jerk me off right away, she didn't start in again, like so many do.
{270}
>> posted by John Psmyth
• 1/07/2005 06:05:00 PM
•
2 comments
Friday pussy blogging 
Splish splash I was takin' a bath ...
{NA}
>> posted by John Psmyth
• 1/06/2005 05:54:00 PM
•
0 comments
