I love women more. No, you don’t! you may think for a little while. Well, you may know some things, but as you’ll read very soon, there’s a lot more to love about women. I wish I could write an encyclopedia dedicated to the sphere of women. I could subtitle it: Two Singular Sexual Tendencies. If Women is the first, what’s the second? you may ask. You may be able to guess this one. I, of course, mean the Pussy. Yes; with a capital P (like the one attached to my first name)! It is, without any doubt whatsoever, just a little important part of a woman. However, given all the realities (facts) and mysticisms (wishes) purveyed to this irresistibility that is the Pussy (any pussy), it has to exist in a realm of its own. Directly linked to the world of Women, of course, but standing on its own against the Prick! It, the Prick, has its own world. Most of you already know about it. But the real world is the Pussy. Where was I?
What a beautiful picture! It’s really a thought catalog. One thought, though, and surely not chocolate. The hole in the middle of the box reinforces the real premise, namely that the picture is only about intercourse. Even the fine foot dispatches any other thought to sex. And the floor! She’s probably seated against the tub. I can even smell the peppermint, but that’s just me, and maybe a few other readers. What a perfect picture of sex without the act! And who doesn’t like chocolate before, during, and or after intercourse! Of course, dark chocolate is the best (up to 90% cocoa content). And if you add some berries (raspberries or blackberries) and some THC (the L in TLC is replaced with the H from hashish), you could carry a tune in your heads (both heads) for the rest of your life. Of course, as long as you continue to consume it.
I was also wondering, thinking about Women (I always do), whether there was a way to showcase them globally without turning to porn. The following whatever came out. It’s true that I had taken before a small square of dark chocolate infused with a piece of raspberry and around 50 mg of THC.
Please Use Safely Sensibly Yesterday
I get the PUSS part, but I don’t get the Y! some of you may think. A woman is irreplaceable. Some of you may now wonder, where’s the Y in there? I was just starting. Some of you may now wonder, what about another woman? I mean capital Woman! Women! The Women! Woman is unique, incomparable, unparalleled, priceless, invaluable, treasured, prized, cherished. So, Yesterday simply reminds you that it’s a given. Pussy rules and Prick drools, at least in one particular world!
Just Before Falling Asleep
Just before nodding from hell to heaven, I thought of a friend of mine (I have no friends). Let’s call him Boris! He imagined his first real sexual encounter when he was "18" with his MILF neighbour (or is it neighbour MILF). Let’s call her Sheila! He had an actual accidental glimpse of her nakedness when she was taking a shower. He had been sent by his mother to borrow some sugar, but unable to find her around her two-bedroom apartment, he opened the unlocked bathroom door and beheld her glorious naked figure for a long second. She was always sexy in her short dresses. Her legs were always clean-shaven. Her toenails were always groomed. She was also forever smiling. He often imagined himself going to see her to ask for some help.
Her help? you may ask.
He tells her: I have a problem. Each time that I see or think about you, my prick gets bigger. It often hurts as it’s trapped in my pants. He then proceeds to take it out and ask: What can I do to avoid this from happening all the time? Smiling, as always, she takes his prick with both hands and leads him by it to the bathroom sink where she proceeds to give him a handjob.
Following his joyous ejaculation she says: When you get an erection from now on, just work it up and down the same way that I just did, and if I’m free, I’ll be glad to give you a hand.
Needless to say that he ran home to masturbate without the sugar, having to go out to buy some before he could take the time to finish.
It was a prick story! In my case, it always starts with a prick before the pussy appears. And what an appearance a woman is! I’m a little teary. I just need a few seconds.
Women Are Heaven
Let’s go, then, so you can show me what woman heaven really means, I said. She blushed like a blue bride, and I, unsure of what to expect on both accounts, took her hand and walked beside her like a kid keen to discover what sex is all about. We stripped, keeping our bras and our panties on for good measure, but losing them an unknown number of seconds later in the cool waters of discovery, desire, and, of course, delight. She had no pubes. Nice clean view, I said, as I was caressing her pussy.
“Do you like the pussy shaved?” she asked, pulling lightly on her nipples.
Very much. You must be using a good oil to soften the skin.
“Yes, and it also seems to delay the growth of pubic hair.”
Heaven, I said, licking her soft skin square centimetre by square centimetre from face to toes, taking my time with her prominent nipples before returning to her protruding pussy and remaining there until I could hear the voice of her orgasm. It sounded like a peaceful purr.
“Oh, my God! I’m still shaking,” she said, kissing me with passion and glee, touching and sucking my breasts, stroking and pecking my buttocks, and then taking charge of my pussy as if it was her own, inflicting upon me so much pleasure that all I could do to stop her was cry.
Death or dying is not the problem. The lack of real immortality is the issue for many of us. Charlie Chaplin should never have died. He should have been immortal, in the tangible sense of the word. Alive forever! Even after the universe is no more. Charlie Chaplin is a god. No! Charlie Chaplin is God. He would have been God had he been immortal. But no! He had to die like everyone else. He was eighty-eight but he should have been alive today, now, as you are reading these words. He should have been 131 years old (132 at the end of 2021) and immortal, as he should have been.