The Penis Soliloquies: Handsome

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Handsome

4 comments:

Anonymous said...: Even before the signature emerges in the margin, the pastel gouache of the background signifies that the silk-framed cynosure will be a Higgins offering. And so it is -- eloquent, svelte, and irresistible, the musclefoil of flex that makes the world go round, Star of India to the crown of cock, itself. Indeed, to traverse the perineal isthmus is the shortest route of passage to this sumptuous estuary, the headwaters and sump of male fuck ensconced in comity within, where churn the fondest motives of its form to keep it supple, succulent, and warm. Yet prodigal’s the power of the pliant port to clasp or catapult the cursor of its gender ambidextrously in drill, betimes to interdict it or inflict it as we will; sublime.; October 23, 2008 at 5:47 AM
Anonymous said...: The resumption of our cherished Bedtime Story gathers pace with 2 new frames of its endearing narrative, each one vouching for devotion to its text. Who had known, a speedo once contained this whole repast, a mystery of geometry that surely could not last. But still, even in this momentous undressing phase, we discern the great deference to the dome which is the hallmark of this beloved chapter, exhibiting the lips as coral corollaries of the curvatures extruded in their care, still plush where their prize swells obdurately within their adaptive clasp, a musing smile of lusciousness surveying their deportment. Yet later, even while unspeedoed tuggings give play to unbridled delight in dick’s trajectory, the craving head floats above a marmoreal sea of muscle to frame our contemplation of the whole with an even more diffident absorption. Surely, this is narrative style at its most sympathetic, the happy molding of the mouth to its meat leaving it to our completion of the gesture in our mind. And how shall this be done? Perhaps another installment will disclose . . . .; October 23, 2008 at 6:22 AM
Anonymous said...: Now the healing horn that lent its schlong to fuck's escarpment only yesterday, permits a survey of its sweep to test assimilation by our mind. What precious mettle here would fling to ply our pleading path, what wealth is this to slake our suckling slot with scythings of its swoop, as tithings of our craving clasp complete the feedback loop? 'Tis a message full-compacted in its dome, coherent in convulsings that exhort it to its home.; October 23, 2008 at 6:41 AM
Anonymous said...: Ho, wow. Somebody’s got himself a great new job, who sports that comfy seat upon his head.; October 23, 2008 at 6:48 AM

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