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Viewing the local antiquities

 
 
Vertical market 


Red leaves crowd the sandy paths of the carré; the students are back in town and need money; so there's a unfamiliar ad in the classifieds, boxed:

A girl with a strap-on.

It reads: "enjoys her work."

Plus, she's only 5'2".

She being the word: I want a girl doing me, not a "100% female."

What would her thighs, her belly, thwacking my mounted cheeks sound like, from the recieving end?

How would she relax me? Cool goo, a latex glove, one, two; three fingers? Warm oil and progressively larger instruments?

Would she rim me?

Would she be thick? Thin? Cool? Warm? Firm, like flesh, or hard like plastic or steel?

Would I feel, she having oiled my cock first, the loom of her hand reaching between my legs before she fondles my balls, jerks me off, while she pegs me?

With my face jammed down in the pillow, would I her her panting behind and above me? Would I moan? Would I scream?

How would my asshole feel as she reams it? When I come, and my anus contracts, how would it feel with her in me? When she slips out, would I feel my walls close?

I wonder how many thrusts I can take without coming. And what her rates are.

{NA}


My turn to look at the ceiling 


After scraping me dry with a tissue, she fits her head into the crook of my arm, and closes her eyes.

The rental darkens:

her breathing deepens, rasps, settles into a slow beat:

her flesh slowly cooling, condensing.

The spilt jewels of the city sparkle ever more brightly, through the foolish window.

My arms circle her.

Until her cell rings.

{140}

Tags: ; .

Is she, or isn't she? 




"She's a caretaker for a woman with cerebral palsy, so she has to go away for three and four days at a time."

—midriff babyfat spilling out pale as she rises,

"It sounds like she's just really busy."

swaggers up to the bar rolling her heavy suburban ass.

"It's disturbing to meet someone I think I'm getting to know well."

Black chainmail swing of her hair as she sits

"But that's not the case."

settles her cheeks in the chair, her low-cut black sweater pendulous shadowy promising

"I'm obsessing about this girl!"

her V's-creased indigo triangle as legs open she gives me her crotch.

"Crazy, but not dangerous."

Her coat's white alpaca. She's not fresh off the boat.

"Man, I can see it's—"

{NA}

Tags: ; .

Particulate things 


1. Skunky rubber. 2. Shelled shrimp. 3. Baby powder. 4. Dank washcloths. 5. Rice, steaming. 6. Cigarettes. 7. Perfume, perfume, perfume.

Other related things.

{NA}

Tags: ; .

I love to watch a whore who doesn't know how to walk 
in the high heels the house gave her.

Going upstairs, she'll plant her feet one step at a time, as if she were walking in shoe boxes not shoes.

Then when she steps out of her shoes and, barefoot, enters her cube, her carriage becomes achingly graceful.

{NA}

Tags: ; .

All characters and situations fictional. Copyright (c) 2003-2007 by "John Psmyth."
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