July 22, 2005
I love the way she tastes and I am in no hurry when it is time to indulge. Her breathing intensifies as my hot breath nears her pretty smudge pot. I look at her Orson Wells as we watch Leave It To Beaver. I will M.C. Hammer her later, but now I Chevy Chase her into the bedroom. The crumbs from the Doritos fly off her mumu as the tonnage shakes in flight. The quarry is now on the bed, and the springs are again at load limit. I pounce on my happy hippo but mis-time my landing and am bounced back against the wall, knocking down the Pee Wee Herman poster. It scares the cat, as if he wasn't scared by us naked, and cat litter explodes in all directions. It seems we caught him in mid squat, evident by the freshly pinched load. Focus dammit, back to the Story Musgrave. She's a glowing like a lite brite as I tickle her Red Buttons. I move in close like an RAF pilot coming in for a strafing run, and whoa boy, that thing is moving. Her large lips are soooo happy their clapping. I'm getting a standing ovaryation! Maybe it is my Aqua Vulva aftershave.
Dear Flow Downs,
For sure it wasn't the Pee Wee Herman poster that made her lips so happy. It scared even the cat shitless!