Tuesday, October 7, 2008
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October
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2 comments:
If the curtains swathing the gracious second dome in this sequence hadn't been drawn so elegantly by their frenular cord, the symmetry and plushness of the bicameral lobes of this capitol would not have been concealed, but their glow would have been.
We have been invited to attend upon the penis scooping itself from the cheetah counterpane before, and have demurred only in fastidious renunciation of gluttony. Yet, still, the lambent penis rises, horning itself in cockform luminosity, the plushened dome now plangent in distress with scruple’s delicacy, the sovereign padpoints seething to extract its dire load. For is this not, a dick? If you munch it, does it not swell? If you slurp it, does it not glisten? If you suckle its baggled orbs in twain does it not twang in rampant aggravation, the incense of pure fuck enveloping the void in intoxicants of gracious, roiling balm? A cock, then, to greet with parity of concession as all others, the loop of soothing anus unrepentant to bestir itself to clasp the penetrant plum in sumptuous sucking solace of its stone.
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