Wouldn't it be nice, I reflected, to go on a date with you, as we stood there talking. I wondered how long it's been since the last time someone came on to you. As a matter of fact, I wonder if anyone this much younger has ever hit on you. You, with your rotund ass and homely face, small perky middle-aged breasts and that voice that I somehow find so strangely appealing. I'd imagine that most men would let you walk by without a second look, but you make me want to lick your ass and paw your hairy cunt.

I know what she's thinking, so I say to her: "Let's take off everything till there's nothing but words between us."

"Okay," she quips, with no witty repartee forthcoming. And now that we're both completely naked, with only words between us, I venture to say: "So what would you like? Perhaps something about my aunt, and how thinking about peeping at her hairy cunt is such a convenient port for my meandering mind?"

    "Incest," she smiles, "is nice."

    I smile in return. Then she continues.

    "It's nice, but I would like to hear something else for now."

    "Like what," I reply a little impatiently.

    "Tell me some of the other bad things you've done which you still have no regrets doing," she completes her sentence neatly, as if she's waited all her life to ask this question.

    "Would you like to deepthroat me now?"

    "Come on, you know this is not what it's all about."

    "I guess you're right. But would you at least let me come on your face?"

    "You can come in my mouth if you want to."

    "Well, the mouth is the exit point of words."

    "Right." 

Turn on your hands and touch me like they do in porno. Pose your eyes, laser-sharp, burn a hole in the camera, or else, full of longing but no fluttering of the lashes please. Moan, groan, or else shut up. Your mouth is made for better things. Spread your limbs like an automaton, your orifices at the ready. Short circuit your nipples and set them on fire. I got the tool and you got the cream. Let's fuck tooth and nails till the very end.

One of the waitresses came on to me when I was at Crab Tusks today. She told me suggestively that she needed a facial. I mean, how was I supposed to react? After all, I am kinkylube. I told her that she didn't need a facial because her complexion was excellent. I would've said sublime, but then she wouldn't have understood it, and the conversation would've gone off-course. So, her already smooth complexion made smoother by the hot come that was coming down hard on her face like a crazy rain of melted darts.

All these porno stars, what happens when they retire, get married and their children find out their past? But never mind the porn stars. You and I know that in this day and age, everyone can be a porn star. The democratization of porn, and whatnot. So what happens when your children --- if you plan to have them, that is --- find your stash of homemade porn?

    "See, this is how daddy and mommy (used to) fuck." 

"I saw your mother's cunt today."

"What??"

"I said, I saw your mother's cunt today."

"What do you mean??"

"She was in the garden this morning, trimming her bush again."

"And...??"

"And she was squatting down, and I saw her cunt sticking out."

"..."

"There was a hole in her shorts."

"You gotta be kidding."

"No I'm not. If you don't believe me, take a look in the laundry basket. You'll see the hole."

"You fuckin pervert!"

"Yeah, like you're not. And guess what. I took some pictures too."

"What?!"

"I did. Wanna have a peek?"

For no apparent reason, I felt a little blue tonight, so I listened to some bossa nova and then played with my cock for habit's sake.

A casual hetero drink over cigarettes and devil's coffee, but this was no ordinary ipanemic girl walking by, yoga-perfect ass jiggling like coagulating jello against confident panty lines, eyeing me, beads of post-coital tantric sweat evaporating from her shit-streaked head of mellow gold. How about it, just you and me? (I bet we can fuck energetically for hours)

Gimme some aural ganja, audiotronic meth, flying pixels, a bukkake salon. Messy masturbators, facial fornicators, get in line, tug and pull, shotgun, reload, fire! splat, splat, splatter, all you can come, cream on a platter, her cups, spilleth over.

What was it again? An ounce of something, becoming...oh, I can't remember. All I can recall is the promise of porn in the morning air, of jerking off to highly-articulated but low-definition footage of visual sex, vicarious pleasure in my hormone-addled mind. I'd imagine how we'd do all the things that's being done on the tv screen, the movements and progression towards inevitable ejaculation after inevitable ejaculation. The best moments were inevitably the moments when she'd take my cock into her mouth and slurped on it till I spurted all over the inside of my crummy shorts.

i can just see it: {she} checks out genki-genki the website, gets un-fucking-believably turned on, touches herself, lightly, on her clitty, then falls off her chair ---> surprise orgasm attack.

I took a course in French when I was in university, but now, all that's left is a smattering. Utterly un petit peu. But every once in a while, when I'm hard as a rock, especially when I awake from an afternoon nap, French comes back to haunt me and all I can think of is Neko's soft, buttery cunt with the words "Entrez! Entrez!" ringing in my ears.

This is the Babel Fish Translation into French:

J'ai pris un cours en français quand j'étais à l'université, mais maintenant, toute qui est partie est un smattering. Tout à fait peu de petit d'un. Mais chaque de temps à autre, quand je suis dur comme roche, particulièrement quand je me réveille d'un petit somme d'après-midi, Français revient pour me hanter et tous que je peux penser à est Neko doux, chatte de beurre avec les mots "Entrez ! Entrez!" sonner dans des mes oreilles.