Sunday, October 18, 2009

Sex.

Making out.
Sex.
Making out.
Sex.
Making out.
Sex.

Every time I meet an attractive boy I look at his hands and wonder the same things...

1) Does he have a big dick?
2) Is he a good kisser?
3) What would his head look like between my legs?
4) What would I look like giving him a blow job?

I think about all of these things and more.
Sigh. I need a boy to come over and worship my body for a while.

5 comments:

  1. Come on, you can do better than this.

    Though, it's a fair look into the common Psyche. Not original, but fair nonetheless.

    Oh, and define "worship".

    ReplyDelete
  2. I feel like I just stumbled in on my parents... Who were murdering Santa Claus... While every happy thought I ever had stood in the corner and wept.

    P.S. Posting a comment on here is like breaking into fucking Fort Knox.

    ReplyDelete
  3. If it's not Sex and the City, why are you yearning for the touch of a man in graphic detail, much like those weathered, old horses would?

    ReplyDelete