It all just got a lot stinkier, murkier, started to smell. It got dirtier, filthier, more putrid, slimy as hell. Cunt juice, prick fluid, slime down my thigh, down my leg, across my stomach, in my hair, matting it, sticking it together, in clumps. Life is for chumps.
You know, I kind of like it, want it, am used to it on me. not adverse to it in me. I like that sweaty walk home, the cotton stuck to me, cramped in my pants, up my crack, across my balls, down my thigh, down my leg, (walk home from a sex club, juiced peg).
It reminds me to live, to get out there and mix, to be friendly, to mingle, to love and be loved.
Loved, you say? You laugh. It is love, loving, loving being together, love all over each other. It is a great way to make friends.
Getting the love, enjoying the love, lovin' the love, before you find the love, before you settle in love. You should taste all the love, so you know the love when it wanders into your life... wet and stinky and hot.
Otherwise, you may not, get the lot, when it’s hot. Nothing wrong with giving it a shot. Some of my best friends started with hands down each other’s pants. And occasionally we still give it the dance. Just to see if we still know how to prance. Make each other hot. It doesn’t cost a lot. Perhaps some skin on your chin, and some fluid you probably shouldn’t keep in.
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