Wednesday, February 17, 2016
Dentistry/Necrophilia
I went to have my teeth cleaned, by my older role model gay male, you know, still working at 65. Every 6 months on the dot. Actually, I don’t think he is gay at all, just has that look, where his cropped hair is many shades lighter than his skin colour. I reckon he’d have a wife Ludmilla of 40 years who he’d sip cognac with on Saturday nights after the opera. Getting your teeth cleaned is very sexual, all those fingers. Your lips. Skin on skin. All that sucking. My dentist spends a good part of his time inside me. Crossed with necrophilia. I tried not to giggle when this thought occurred to me when I was in, the said, position. I was a corpse with which somebody was interfering.
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2 comments:
A few years ago, while at the dentist getting my teeth cleaned, my tongue developed a mind of its own and was moving around uncontrollably inside my mouth. It was very embarrassing. Never happened again...i have much better tongue control these days.
Funny. I get a sense of that when the dentist has his fingers in my mouth, then I'm always nervous my tongue will do the same as yours
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