PLEASE HELP BLUE PRESS STAY AFLOAT

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Goodbye, Dirty Machine


And her loose blue warm-up pants over her thousand times legs were coming down the hips every so inchly, exposing the pelvis and the wonderful iliums and that naked spot that a man could spend hours touching, like childhood doctor dark closet...every once in a while I would send my sentry right hand down the middle of her abdomen under the elastic eve apple bite line and find the hair soft as my own...back up her breasts I played angrily in jest with her standing-room-only nipples, elastic, near inch lactiferous ducts... because sucking I was with turtleneck amorous motions like the façade of the beautiful Orient word for “fuses,” “take off your athletic pantaloons you foolish girl!” So off they were sliding and out was her breath and up was my cock and down went my face...splitting the distance half between each leg to the maternal spring (I have the longest tongue in Science) & my mouth filled with kosher delights face flush with no panties just white magic flesh, being its own particular muse stronger than rot-gut and more great than gold.   Her entire cunt was in my mouth. God, the Jewess was too much for us men of sensibilities the writhing and radiohead thinking of spending December’s laconic eves asking redoubtable Deities to prolong the sweet melancholy Head I was giving to this wonderful creature—a picayune deleterious head which she was gladly accepting and what the hell, I figured the black snow piling up outside her window was fit prelude to a descent further down the anatomical fool’s gold pleasure stops and so down to her puckered soft asshole I went putting my own mutt jew ass nose right in the folds of her open heart...But the Jewess would let things go no further, and as she sobered up and thought of her stag, the night slowly slipped from my grasp and I had to leave unfulfilled. We had hit 90, but blew the clutch when she looked in that rear-view...

So take it here now, the Jewess, what I couldn’t give you then, my head between your legs your mind pushing out your heart roughly two playfully rough hours that night are mere prelude to these words...take the best inch of my heart and run with it dear J to somewhere like peace and a moveless place and I would take from her, as I did with Tanya so much recent, a pair, nay the very two of my jewels between my legs, again blue, again an unfulfilled retreat...blue balls.

-Michael Price