Pussy! My Sweet Pussy!

Is there anything better than pussy? Yeah, a really good book. Bo Burnham

What are you reading?

“Some story about a string, but I think that it’s about pussy.”

Pussy? Can you read it to me? You know that I love listening to your voice.

“Only when I read you stories about sex.”

Come on! I love your voice right now and you’re not reading anything.

“Okay! Of course, I’ll have to start from the beginning.”

I hope so. How would I know who’s Jack?

“There’s no Jack! So far at least.”

Oh, Jack is a pro. He’s sometimes there and you don’t even see him. That’s why they call him Jack.

“What are you talking about? Have you read it?”

You said that it’s about pussy and you know that I know everything that there is to know about pussy. I can read pussy. It has a magical language, with pleasure always being the outcome. Do you know how rare it is to have such a percentage of success? There would be no Vegas if pussy was playing. Who wants to look at cards when they can look at pussy, and not only look. Pussy gives! Pussy lightens the human spirit, for men and women and everything else that can flourish in between. You can’t fuck cards. Cards fuck you. You can masturbate to the ones with the naked women, but it’s démodé, you know, out of style. You can watch porn and read dirty stories on your smartphone. It’s not a fucking smartphone, it’s a smartphone that fucks you, that fucks with your mind. But at least I can check my email, and you can read and take pictures.

“I also talk on it.”

Baby, my pussy, that’s a given that you’re also talking on it. If not, we would have called it the smartcamera or the smartmail.

“Or the smartread.”

Yep! That’s a good one. And of course, the smartsex.

“That’s all you think about. Sex! Sex! Sex!”

What else is there? Think about it! Everything else pales in comparison. Just look at your pussy! You know how I feel about your pussy.

“I know. You may be right.”

Maybe I can read your pussy before you start reading me about pussy.

“You know that if you do that, I won’t read you anything. Let my reading put us in the mood first.”

I’m always in the mood. We’re talking here about your pussy. The pussy! My pussy!

“That’s a given. You’ll like the story. Let me read it first.”

Okay! Okay! Read me your sexy story! Is it also from Medium?

“Yes. You know, the publication called Sexual Tendencies.”

The name says it all. What’s the name of the story?

“Pussy! My Sweet Pussy! Are you the sweetest of them all?”

LOL! That’s a title for you, and everything is in the title. Pussy and sweet pussy. As if pussy could be otherwise. They should put the picture of a pussy next to the word sweet, and sweetness, and anything else that spells sweet. It’s the sweetest thing in the world and it has zero carbs.

“LOL! It’s only a seven-minute read, so let me start!”

Seven minutes of heaven. Go ahead, my sweet pussy, the sweetest pussy of them all!

“Oh, Donny. You always put my pussy on a pedestal. It’s a nice pussy, but there are nicer ones out there.”

I don’t know any other pussies; I’m only acquainted with yours, and it’s a doozy.

“You! You! I’m starting to read.”

I’m all ears. For now!

“Lucie had a pussy that could smile.”

There’s a lot to smile about when a pussy is interested in you. Who’s the writer?

“I don’t know. Some guy with a pic of a cat in a Santa suit.”

A cat in a Santa suit? That’s the Pussy Santa. It must be part of the story.

“We won’t know if I don’t continue reading. Is my voice clear?”

Clear as pussy on Sunday!

“You! Okay, then! No interruptions!”

Pussy away! Or is it pussies?

...

Lucie had a pussy that could smile. She would lie on her left side in the nude. I prefer naked; it’s more real. I digressed. Sorry! She would lie on her left side naked, her two cute moles above her pussy appearing as eyes and the pussy as both the nose and the mouth. When he parted her pussy, it looked like a smile. And what a smile! He immediately wanted to kiss it. Kiss her all over; every treasure, every potential, and then pinpoint the pussy for the sweetest intercession of his mouth. What bliss, she felt! Methinks that his bliss was greater. What bliss, he felt! No! What bliss, they felt!

Pussy! My sweet pussy! Are you the sweetest of them all? Lucie would ask, and he would always reply: By Jove, you are indeed the sweetest of them all! Lucie’s pussy was too sweet for words. In secret, he also called it the changeling sweet pussy, since its sweetness could switch modes almost unexpectedly. Mode 1 was lick-me sweet. Mode 2 was eat-me sweet. Mode 3 was forget-everything sweet. And Mode 4 was I-can-die-now sweet. There was a Mode 5, but he only experienced it once and wasn’t even sure if it was real or the best mirage ever. He called it the sweet-sweet sweet mode or simply the sweetest of them all.

She could have been named Pussy, but Lucie was pretty close. Pussy in the sky with pearls. You know the pearls that I’m referring to. Come on! Sweat coalesced with sperm and pussy sap. A real sex soup. They serve it at orgies and swinger sets of at least four, though now they’re called foursomes. What’s next? Fivesomes? Can you spare a five for a fivesome? That’s cheap! We don’t include the zeros. How many? As many zeros as it takes.

Lucie had a lot more to offer than her pussy, the pussy, but anything else practically faded in comparison. One could easily look at her beautiful face and burst. She had a face that expected sperm. Her breasts were inviting, to say the least, and ballbusters, to say the most. Her ass was to die for, repeatedly, from every angle. But; I mean, BUT, if you were lucky, very lucky, lottery-winner lucky, you got to look at that heavenly juncture between the pussy and the asshole. Heaven must be there, and if it’s not, it should be. It’s the second most beautiful place in the world, after the pussy, of course. Pussy! Sweet pussy! You’re the sweetest of them all. But if Heaven is between the pussy and the asshole, what’s the pussy? That’s a question that we’ll never be able to answer. Even Science is speechless. Pussy is everything.

She also offered her fetching feet. Again with the feet? I only comment on them when they’re worth mentioning, and dreams could be made with her feet. So many dreams! Both waking and real! Most people hold their dates’ hands, he wanted to hold her feet, even in public, feigning that he was ministering to a cramp. Whoever loves their lover’s feet will love them and their feet forever. Did you hear (or read) about the offhand footjob? She refused to use both feet.

He once told Lucie that he would have accepted to become a good bacterium as long as he could have resided in her pussy. Of course, any other penis making its way into her pussy would have turned him into a bad bacterium. They can change, you know. Can a pussy change? In what way? I don’t know. Change! Look differently! It depends on the pussy. It always depends on the pussy. I want Quentin Tarantino to make a movie about pussy. Forget Pussy Galore! Well, don’t forget her! He could title the movie, The Pussy Express, or Pussy Days and Pussy Nights, or even Pussy Fiction.

Pussy! My Sweet Pussy! Are you the sweetest of them all? Yes! I am, I am the sweetest pussy of them all.

By the way, I don’t agree with the quote at the start. Even a really good book is inferior to pussy, especially the sweetest pussy of them all.

When the Pussy

When the pussy rules the penis

The penis looks swell as its slave

But after some time in Venus

They both end up appearing brave

When the penis rules the pussy

The pussy looks downcast and glum

But after some time in Lucie

They both end up looking quite numb

Pussy, sweet pussy, I always await you with a smile.

...

“Did you like the story?”

This guy loves pussy as much as I do. Maybe more.

“He also knows his pussy.”

Am I sensing some scolding in your remark?

“Not at all. You know pussy; my pussy! But he seems to be the Pussyman, the Pussy Santa.”

I can’t argue with that, but he’s too literate about it. I like it dirty.

“A pussy story can be both dirty and literate.”

I guess so. You liked it and that’s all that matters to me.

“I knew that you’ll see it my way.”

How can I not when pussy, my pussy, belongs, after all, to you and only you!