She had, to her satisfaction, the other side of the story. What the handsome blonde lady had told her—the indignation that it had left Goldy with, and the motivation to make her confrontation.

For all the old man's consternation about finishing "School," his young woman had barely made it. She had help from her reluctant mother, but of course her own father was enraged. And he, he had abandoned her. Abandoned them. Gold wanted to wave the Standard in his chiseled tan face—that twofaced flag of Hypocrisy. She at least had saved herself and her accidents till after high school, immediately after, but nevertheless, after.

Gold thought for sure Silver would be horrified; ask "Did she graduate?" and "How did she manage alone afterwards?" Silver did ask. She just didn't bother to ask her—meaning Goldy. She couldn't of course ask the blonde woman or contact her, without Gold's aid. She didn't know her name. Even to the end.

The blonde was friendly, natural, and kindly enough to endure Gold's unexpected arrival, as an almost daughter. She hugged her and her youthful pain, and she answered her questions with mastered emotion. She had now a son to be proud of, a blessing. It was for her all in the past, an "affair." Her heart was learned, but content. It was a heated relationship, with fiery passion of lust and spite. The kind of love where there is argument, jealousy, and rumors. "Friends" of friends. Perhaps she was too pretty, and he too handsome. No one likes to see a pair have it all.

They had met in the Art Lyceum. They'd been an item since her first year. He was one year older, and graduated before she gave birth. She said, he disappeared from their lives. They had had a row. She couldn't explain it except to say he refused to take responsibility. Perhaps she said he was still a boy not a man.

They'd both loved the name Matteo. And Matteo it was, a healthy and talented boy, artistically gifted in music and visual arts. Gold recalled the old man's ardent statements that he only wanted girls. It had made her feel good at the time. Valued.

Indignation rose in her. She knew he had taken off to America. He'd always said it was for a job offer. There was no offer on arrival. Odd. Now she knew why—there must have been no offer. He was running from a past he wanted to discard. She judged him harshly, and felt she was seeing him finally in an honest light. Why could not Silver also see him, as a cad? So much imagination, and she failed in basic sight.

Congratulations! You just won my friendship after passing with flyings slogging thru (you did read my previous message I hope) a thicket of verbiage - mine! Just for ably, eagerly, and readily wading thru my written mire and muck, I offer you the following.

A cinched dick, entered fur gotten haven itching journey kickstarting lovemaking.

My outstretched penis quivered regarding sluice, triggering ultimate vaginal wonderland xing.

Yearning zealousness about bilabial copulation drove excitement.

Fricassee gourmet honied inlaid juicy kitty licking morsels nudged orgasmic pulsations.

Quest rocket ship tipped undulation vibrating within xing yawning zephyr aiding bushy clump desire.

Erotic frolicsome gamecock hypnotized infinite jesting kisses.

Libido muscled needle (ordained phallus) quickly radiating sexual tendencies.

Under valued wishes x'd yawping zing augmenting bulge.

Cockle doodle espied feline grimacing.

Hardened itty joker kept livingsocial moving nearer opiate pheromone.

Quick rhythmic sputtering teased underdog.

Venus woke x2c yakking zee able bodied chipper dick.

Enticement furthered guttersnipe hormonal intercourse juices.

Kinky lustfulness mandated nesting outlier prick quintessential readiness.

Seduction released thru vortex wove xing yielding zone attracting buoy.

Captive doggone erotica fueled gonadal heaviness.

Incessant jabbering kaboom launch made necessity of penetration quaking.

Randy shenanigans tormented us. Vibrant willingness x'acted yowling Zen.

Xyz bequeathed carnal drive.

Entrance for Grafenberg heady inducement joyfulness kept lubrication maintained.

Nakedness offered petting quiet riot.

Sumptuous tearful ululation voiced xing your tuv ass.

Buttocks chimed ding dong. Excitation forged gorgeous hollow intent jousting kitty.

Lips murmured narcotic.

Oral penile quaffing resulted sans throbbing.

Uber vane willy x'd yummy zinnia aromatic beaver.

Clitoris dripped excrescence feeding genitalia.

Heavenly interlocking jockey kindled luscious meatiness.

Never opposing penetration qualm refreshing sir.

This unbridled verboten whirled ground zero assuaged bareback coitus.

Deft ejaculatory feverish fucking generated healthy ingredient.

Jetty kitty loved masturbatory nestling.

Orifice per pussy qualified rectifying robing snatch.

Taut undersized viper won x2c.

Zorba a Capella delivered.

Eventual foreplay generated heat.

Immediate joie de vivre knitted languid mood.

Nipple nursing oddly pacified quantum racing, softly ticking, ultimate victory when x2c yielded zenith asper begetting cunnilingus.

Delight eliminated fancyfeast.

Gladness hoisted intersection joining knobby log marooning natural ordinary pang qua rubbing stiff totem uniting viz warm yik yak ziplock agent brimming cojones.

Subtitled: who needs a pitbull with a spouse,whose patience she doth lack. Her dog gone warped woof doth weave well Willy wonka nigh tear and pull.

The following vignette couched in the first person plural as a denouement to present more nuanced, and less biased expression involving a discreet liaison netting piranha rabidly torn, violently x’d, zapped, and badmouthed.

Anyway, the daily egg gone e from this henpecked husband morning til night, this father (who heart went a heave vin) endured relentless onslaught of un beak able string of expletives (purportedly as endearments - argh), and suffered contusions buck cause bombardment of dried out rock hard leftovers knocked me noggin, and hence rendered me unconscious.

He could not go anywhere inside this nor outside for peace of body, mind and spirit from a native, nattering, nabob wife who folded, mutilated and spindled every square inch of this then more slender (tha now) older papa bear.

Every now and again, he lashed out.

His feebly glommed hoary invocation jumbled kudzu spreading tangled web of intractable, inescapable, and indubitable self entrapment.

Rather than get himself entangled viz zit by a whirled wide web of escalating altercation, he does his level best steer clear of retaliating with outright full bore artillery, which consists of burnt offerings that closely resemble bupkis.

The spouse formerly maintained a stockpile of these non-edible and unappetizing palm size petrified attempts at some culinary delight (acquired courtesy non-fungible tokens) when this family housed at 1148 Greentree Lane.

They might better served as ammunition per war against terrorism.

No doubt they foiled any flickr ring tinderbox of subversive anarchistic activity, yet kept complex edifices of infrastructure intact.

No family, friend, nor neighbor without heeding wise warning to take heed, and not enter kitchen here when forced into hiding because these faux hand grenade essentially described civilian existence akin to being bombarded along landmine lane.

Thee aforementioned street address absolutely zero doubt, thee most dangerous zone whereby man, woman, or child risked life and limb.

This message got typed when this restive father remained in hiding (addressed voluntarily as "sir" by thee eldest daughter), and suffered severe life threatening injuries hen execrable, irascible, and miserable wife unexpectedly lobbed fusillade of brick like bombs of her botched breakfast for chimp peons figuratively caulked and caged.

This message painstakingly penned while bandaged head to toes from major concussions (deadlier than any rocket propelled grenade) whose dire straits bode ill for recovery.

Such life changing comedy of errors tragedy (essentially mush ado a boot nut tin per this merchant of hen ass) replayed itself in my mind.

Hence, a gainful quest toot tryst whilst thee termagant wife slept hatched, motivated, and spurred surreptitious sweltering sybaritic syzygy.

Purse hoot became a reality thru the social media platform Hi5, which possibly got truncated, supplanted, and/or receded, via many another website for assiduous, fortuitous, and lustrously salacious zealots to find each other.

That cyber venue constitutes the virtual meeting place this rather contemplative, furtive and intuitive lad of repressed testosterone visited x2c zone.

Said chaplinesque fellow ought not be labeled lawless nor "baad", nor a cad nay!

The married male subject (as the basis for this account) considered himself deprived of an inalienable right equal in heft to life, liberty and peace of ass.

He likened himself as just another vagabond ambling alone along boulevard of a Beowulf haunted highway to hell.

Illusions of grandeur swooped hither and yon, to and fro, whereby this baby boomer envisioned thoroughly enjoying plying (like a baker kneading dough) his slender and smallish fingers at the juncture of neck and shoulders. As many cumulative kinks as possible would be ironed out.

Muscles and tendons on either side of the spine (from stem to stern) would warrant privy to tender loving care. Special emphasis would be given to any particularly sore area.

Perhaps an especially noticeable ache exists along the upper or lower back? Just the appropriate amount of (gentle) pressure from heals of one hand or the other – tug git called into action.

Might forearms or biceps be in sore need of massage? Gluteus Maximus saddle sore?

How about thighs?

His circadian rhythms manifested toward distinct Manichean meshuga.

Mundane mortality meowed MapQuest maiden madness.

Thence, our suburban foursquare crow cawed faw revanchist ploy tub bore his smallish bore ring shaft + smallish helmet sliding and slipping like on a well lubricated sled to experience once again slippery tread.

Genitalia hankered to submerge with pussy plunging into coital climax to create (as the first of many a date), whereby erect prick wooed ejaculate hooping poetic persiflage augmented, aroused and alighted to induce erotic orgasm steamy enough tum melt antarctic glaciers.

A great will excite eve re: atoms in his male genitalia, which appurtenance vaguely resembled a Semitic nose.

His erectile elongated little salty dog seaman anatomical schmuck expanded to meager number inches length, which hard on pricked via penile servitude. Sexless state spurred regular prurient peccadilloes, when out penile slit seminal fluid would flo akin to a whale spouting – with pretend observers shouting, "thar she blows"!

His whole foods stiffly swayed in metaphorical fresh fields quivering like a taut arrow on cusp of loosed from bowstring.

Erotic fantasies manifested within overactive imagination envision being behind closed doors, whereby prolonged introductory embrace allows us to hold each other close and breathe in the fragrance of the other.

At some arbitrary time, we made eye contact and allowed our slightly opened mouths to blend into a fusion of one oral cavity. Teeth accidentally clacked and clicked (like the tappet brothers repairing a piss ton) against unfamiliar dentifrice while tongues created playful mouse/cat chase game.

An excess of saliva spilt back and forth necessitating an intermittent breakaway, perchance while perched atop Rockaway Mattress nestled in fifty shades of a soundcloud shaped into the number sixty-nine.

Upon one occasion, I took liberty (perhaps with just a barely audible objection) to kiss thy brow, cheek and nape of neck. Unique female aroma wafted my nostrils. A spontaneous urge to nibble (and taste the salt from flesh) found mine germane tongue gliding around upper arms and setting sights toward engorged ripe breasts.

The surface of my hand seemed colder and rougher against the silky smooth base of bosom. Lips gravitated toward swollen mammary glands.

An infantile pang inducted this older guy suckling like a babe. Akin to a newborn, I apply a gentle teased nipple, and described circular motions atop sensitive of teat in an attempt to draw out milky white substance.

Even if this endeavor made in vain, I tried to affect arousal and listened for vocalization of pleasure. Meanwhile my unoccupied hands caressed and rubbed your upper thigh getting closer to that sacred triangular hotspot.

While continuing to caress Petsmart stroke, re: the pubic area with one hand, I gently spread your legs with the other. Asper some gravitational pull, my head descends upon that fecund, mossy and warm glade.

Tongue thrust out and took jaunt into miniature rills in an attempt to brook sinful delight. Increase in cooing and moaning indicated one taw king heading inching closer to clitoral clemency. The tip of tongue probed and touched lucky trip kinky coil releasing geyser. Thence (with sorcerer's stone to aid love making magic) thy little prick plunged into dark abyss igniting exhilaration lightening bolts of eroticism. Especial tasty as pussy neared carnal knowledge; I wanted to dock a rock hard cock oh laid café of her mocha milch.

Gentle movements along either side of the upper thighs soon makes contact with that wooly Brillo like pad that leads inside warm, wet whirl a gig world web of wiry pubic hair.

A plus if ye opt not to shear off that tuft inxs of pearl jam in living color kinks. I carefully rub the outer labia to help learn contours of this foreign territory and also to spur lubrication and subsequent stimulation. Once adequately familiar with this personal furry fortress, the fingers plunge deeper into this miniature caverns housing goblets of fire where this sexually healthy human hopes to be ushered into the secrete of chamber welcoming my cock in your goblet of fire. First horizontally and then vertically these dexterous appendages create elliptical orbits over hill under dale in hot pursuit of one or more erogenous zones.

All the while (or even some minutes prior), my sad yet cautiously optimistic looking smallish formerly flaccid wienerschnitzel becomes ramrod hard as a rock and engorged with seminal fluid. The penultimate capstone of said warm schmuck vasocongestion well taut soldier of fortune, scouts out a place (around saturated silken road panties) to penetrate forth the this rather diminutive prick. Back and leek trouser snake i.e. undersized blunderbuss of a male member parries and thrusts (with deep penetrating motions) to create orgasm before launching hormonal secretion into your hot and fiery cauldron and climactic erotic breaking wind while becoming erotically aroused! Primal urges vis a vis those atavistic, ballistic, cataclysmic, climactic, dogmatic, elliptic, metallic, narcissistic and orgiastic pulsations quake the stock market with a wall street windfall.

The shit hit the fan, when spouse awoke trotted downstairs (here in the basement) only to discover...MY ABSENCE.

Immediate ensuing hours found me on the receiving end of endless vile utterances, and a readiness to file for divorce as soon as possible.

She demanded me to end our rapport, especially when i admitted surrendering to temptations of thine verboten fruit.

Gradually as hands of father time agonizingly didst tick tock, her temper cooled, but insisted nothing further take place even though this chap owed ye an orgasm, and he wanted to maintain the status quo.

Wife mandated any communication from you MUST BE VIA ONLINE.

Just when prospect to aspire toward sexual satisfaction viz this unexpected outcome arse. As n ass side, she (thy spouse) made sure to contact family, friends, romans, et cetera to brand me as an outcast.

I agreed to attend counseling n any other supportive measures, though the thought to server communication with yourself (whose person on par with a breath of fresh spring air) finds me apprehensive to be caught "cheating".

This atomic fallout from spouse came by complete surprise. I do not want you to feel blame worthy. Many a day and/or night found me being berated (perhaps even in a supposed mocking light banter), which unconsciously festered inside me than erupted like a dormant volcano upon my return home after spending a most enchanting evening with yourself.

Time and again, this husband received his daily USDA dose of derogatory venal names.

He identified this as contributing factor wanderlust went full force.

Me missus eager, ready and willing to forgive (with stipulation aye cease on/off line scurrilous sexual shenanigans), I experienced internal despair being forced to cease rapport.

Mine two then adolescent daughters became immensely tormented upon seeing their mother in a grievous state of mind.

That early morning after our spontaneous rhapsody immediately reduced to ashes when the poker hot rage from zee spouse spewed endless vitriol at myself for purportedly acting in a flagrant manner, particularly when told we (ye and i) indulged in unprotected sex.

Within a flash, this chap became a human adrip with the germs of sexual transmissible diseases and/or the thought ye might get pregnant!

An inner calm reassured me “she” would not be a vexatious vector for sexual microscopic pests, nor would a chance prevail per her finding motherhood redux.

Twas the night before Christmas…. best this “beast” wised up to avoid calling lest thy (surprisingly forgiving counterpart) call the strong-arm men of the law and file a violation of privacy.

No matter figurative fetters clamped down (the gilded gift of one so gentle) with assurance she would file for divorce and bar our daughters any paternal contact, i thought best to INFORM THEE TO CEASE CALLING - even though NO BITTER bitterness exists within my being.

I felt caught between Iraq and pet troll Liam sir name of emir ging Kuwait tee hard places.

Though the sole shoe found a perfect fit - our liaison based on myself being a sneaker

Great barrier reefs impeded me from being at ease speaking over the telephone.

If an occasion found me able to scud addles, I would stealthily take nokia tracfone and exchange pleasant words. Any miss step toward thee my msgeegee would find me in a painful plight, whereby thee mother who begot our children would do take matters into her own hands and sever ties.

She vowed to do her level best to hammer a nail in the hypothetical coffin, and would exert influence to affect an irreparable divide between this papa and his special daughters.

Bound by marital fidelity and fealty to thine offspring, who I begot with the missus, a torturous sensation twisted sister banned shied inside me for ye to become accessible without causing emotional tumult within the innocence of me youngest lass.

Oh...if there could be have been some way to secure thee (even via polygamy), this chap would feel ecstatic to revel in unadulterated bliss with such a sunny gal as msgeegee.

Thee spouse felt aggrieved and raged if she intuited even a horse whisper per shenanigans (even PLATONIC) 'tween you and me.

The vulnerable psyche of eldest deliberately compromised, (whom might already revile me - since said missus broadcast loud and clear my infidelity) to remain as intact as possible. All in my power (to be pointed) that no access comes to mind of this excel lent rhymer (AND DID NOT CONSIDER THEE A HOME WRECKER - AS DOTH GOTH THICK gal, whose troth i pledged, and royal repugnant rift roiled).

An ongoing communication with thee pseudo mistress akin to a valuable gift to me, perhaps some fluke of circumstances (similar to invisible hand of fate found us attracted to the other), unexpectedly ensued sporadically.

Thoughts turned dark such as maybe I would jump off a golden-gated bridge dang to s cape this quandary - hm. Or maybe hang myself - cuz fate with ye = a strong pang yet the missus sang pleasantries upon my oath involving my lil fleshy thang.

Hawaii in (in holy Maui) condemned tarnation Matthew Scott brought down his pants with ye sullying shred of legal covenant feigning tenuous forgiveness toward thee missus?

Ye may (understandably) feel neither impatient nor unwilling to hold out till salvation rescued him from extra-marital debacle brought on by ME.

PROLOGUE:

MssGee Shepherd

The deux plus orbits wherein the cellar dweller (viz a fifty shades of chocolate color heady mademoiselle as paramour), which found this scrivener as moist lee to agree qua tryst.

Able, the lapse time did not efface, nor erase.

Hie still feverishly crave them yar neigh saying offertory pendulous breasts, which engorging, heaving, and titillating higgs boson bosom accompanied as aperitif zee tasting verboten fruits.

Them tool hips housed buttered grits didst encase that brief, flickr ring tryst, that found excitement.

Thus despite the march may ting genitalia likened to jewel eyes, this married status viz nonconductive foreplay with yore august pudenda be deviled thyself. Pulsation per pussy prompts poetic pablum, where the surge of foregone amorous carnal eats fervently goads this married baby boomer.

The recent facebook message jacked up sans when me mister miniature micro totem pole received invitation withal being welcomed to enter your foursquare LivingSocial quarters after we rang up a prurient telephone conversation the night before.

Hesitation to visualize whet dreams with thee unbelievably, unequivocally, and unmistakably, found utter disbelief asper how this philandering predilection thee allowed took cum true.

That cull of the wild animal, carnal, feral, hormonal inscribed journal, magically poetical, rhapsodically testicular uber x zing this domicile late that (unbeknownst to me fateful) rendezvous.

Ice still dune hot coon sitter mice elf guilty of any transgressions that initially unfolded within this secrete romp arising from MineCraft head imagination (and assiduity regarding yourself) to behold, entrust, invoke craven debauchery, especially since aye received pleasantly unexpected current felicitous indiscretion electronically fielded to me via

Facebook option to Friend delicious dame.

Such an absolute value you bull charming, enticing, fornicating heavenly ideally kindle ling maximization sans Namaste obliterating highly regarded marital vows as pertains to the non abyss sin yen bride of yore whose devout pledge hide (ira roth) fidelity, fostering pact (til death do us part), yet the fickle finger (middle one) of fate sprung incredulity, and activating bandying besotted binging carnal coup d’etat, catapulting comeuppance damning erotic frenzy gonadal gimcrackery (ha – I jab kiddingly, lovingly mindful never plaguing okaying phallus quality respecting the usefulness vibrating with Xerxes yawping Zouave.

Anyway badgering (crying the beloved) cunt tree accidentally stumbled upon quite some years ago (that fly by knight fancy feast) still fills my anchoring, craving, dirty deeds done dirt cheap desires viz escaping grinding increasing knocking monk eying, ongoing quacking from mother goose, who never fails to remind how she bore the brunt of a singular night extra-marital affair (though methinks often, how quickly aborted resonance of partial precocious premium peccadillo paroxysm), got nipped in the bud premature penance paid per liaison, but nary an iota of guilt imposes neither blame, nor shame, sense and sensibility, nor pride prejudice from hie pock marked primitive psyche.

My sex pistol in my pocket

flaccid but able, eager,

ready and willing to cock-it

within the chamber of secretes

I wanna dock-it

intrusion where two lips

applying suction can locket

firing off (blank)

seminal fluid courtesy rocket

orgasm to thee

yours truly may never

(only in his wet dreams) may socket.

my humblest apology for tardy reply this evening of November 26th, but the missus waz binging on Netflix courtesy Macbook Pro, (our only computer and access to excel (leant) Facebook Messenger.

Tis the rose

off limits by the thorn

until trust grows

and friendship born.

Yea, i enjoy written word, but prefer being oral!

Non verbal aural, banal, carnal, doggerel, feral, gonadal, hormonal, integral, lyrical, musical, nasal, quizzical, ad naw z yum al....

What whets your whistle? Turns u on? Sparks a fire? Rips ur spare ribs? Tickles yar twat?

The following message brought to you by x-lax, i mean sex lax!

This just a fantasy, which could be brought into reality by the wave of my hard to find little wand!

Now where the f..K did that prick go!?

Did u happen to see a smallish cocky fella, wearing a fleshy Helmet?

If yes, could you contact me - ideally by text.

yes?

We readily agree to meet at some unspecified secluded place i.e. the nearest approximation to a bono fide soundless as a edenic garden, and point in time (ideally the comfortable surface of your adequately sized deep purple colored bed) and immediately find some animal magnetism to explore yar southern hemisphere - tropical hot bushy chained with kinks zone.

Imagine thenceforth that the two of us experience a sense of equipoise at first blush to liberate the locked libido with libations from inxs of lascivious lovemaking.

One of us would take the initiative (not at the same moment of course) to reach out to give that icebreaker in the form of a hug and then kiss! Lips coalesce into a fusion of warm wet flesh.

This initial contact could ideally take us down and up the desirable (in my viewpoint) and slippery YouTube shaped tubular slope of giddy ecstasy.

While fingers intertwine with the fingers of the other (akin to UN-spooling a skein of tangled and twisted yarn) two lips create an oral tango and also create some complex hair weave with our mouths.

Tongues take respective turns first following than leading in this free form of some discrete french promenade.

A changing of the rite guard commences whereby scrutiny via Braille adopted to roam freely and unfettered across the southern erogenous fertile zones.

Manual dexterity (even in the pitch dark) quickly unclasps the encumbrances of your outer garments before undressing casual and loosely fitting clothing in quick succession.

Though the room offers absolutely no visible light (akin to being lodged in a microcosmic version of that black hole pubic orifice), a glow (like some resident halo -- not unlike the event horizon) offers these nearsighted eyes some satisfactory silhouette of firm breasts and the spider lines of dark colored pubic hair pressed against genital area and quite clearly discerned against the tapestry of dainty underwear.

A combination of quick unstilted hula hoop pogo stick jumping motions (perhaps on your part -- since using a contrivance not one of my strengths) unbind this superfluous bit of (barely and hardly) underwear unfettered from your glistening and heaving body.

Momentary apprehension holds me spell bound when right before mine unblinking sense of sight sees a specimen of superb and supreme splendor.

Twelve step program like recovery from this brief hypnotic trance infuses an immediate intoxication to caress, massage, slake thirst and taste those two mammary pendants adrip with beads of liquid gold.

No objection nor refusal takes place (on your part), when i begin to fondle and paw the swollen dam of each bosom still retained in their respective brassiere, which unwanted impediment voluntarily removed to hasten titillating task.

The bare-naked lady chest beckons for me to perform a breaking Benjamin dance with thine male member! With mouth ajar i fall prey to these appetizer and drink in the milky elixir.

While suckling (like some overgrown babe), the loosely dangling hands begin an overt attempt to explore that glade of gastronomic grandeur glistening with gonadal gyrations.

Gentle movements along either side of the upper thighs soon makes contact with that wooly Brillo like pad that leads inside warm, wet whirl a gig world web of wiry pubic hair.

A plus if ye opt not to shear off that tuft inxs of pearl jam in living color kinks.

I carefully rub the outer labia to help learn contours of this foreign territory and also to spur lubrication and subsequent stimulation.

Once adequately familiar with this personal furry fortress, the fingers plunge deeper into this miniature caverns housing goblets of fire where this sexually healthy human hopes to be ushered into the secrete of chamber welcoming my cock in your goblet of ire.

First horizontally and then vertically these dexterous appendages create elliptical orbits over hill under dale in hot pursuit of one or more erogenous zones.

All the while (or even some minutes prior), my sad yet cautiously optimistic looking smallish formerly flaccid wienerschnitzel becomes ramrod hard as a rock and engorged with seminal fluid.

The penultimate capstone of said warm schmuck vasocongested well taut soldier of fortune, scouts out a place (around saturated silken road panties) to penetrate.

Back and forth the this rather diminutive prickly trouser snake i.e. undersized blunderbuss of a male member parries and thrusts (with deep penetrating motions) to create orgasm before launching hormonal secretion into your hot and fiery cauldron and climactic erotic breaking Benjamin erotically arousing atavistic, ballistic, cataclysmic, climactic, elliptic, metallic, narcissistic and orgiastic stock market wall street windfall.

From: Scott Matthews

prefers a clean machine

versus paying a lifetime sans std due

and can attest a clean bill of health to

hoping this email does woo.

Goldy had waited for the repercussions. She had expected some reverb. Admonitions from the old man. Defense. Defeat. She expected disappointment from Silvie. Disillusionment. Detachment.

Instead, seeing the old man's distress, Silver flatly told her to leave after Gold's triumphant gloat over the expose of pictures. She had had an effect, but not the hardening she intended. Silver glared at her with ice grey extinguished eyes, and told her that the thin lines of her plotting would not hold together here. She had no purchase.

What she wouldn't have given to be third party, privy to the discussion afterward. Had she been there she would not have to imagine. Silver was of course understanding. The moment called for listening, and she listened. A stress headache was forming under the skull. She sensed the distress he must be in, fearing condemnation, worse loss of respect. The old man suggested a night walk. They waited till dark. The sky was pink. Low hanging clouds reflected the warm glow of the nightlife in the nearby town.

Snow underfoot, they walked awhile in silence.

Then he began, "I was addicted to her. We were... addicted to each other."

He sighed. Again they walked wordlessly for awhile. Pictures must have been scrolling his mind like candid video. He tried again, "I just didn't believe the child was mine."

Upon a sofa, huck cupola randy,

married seamen sought escapade

testes spawned reaching

qua ova all biological trade

crossed fecund Rubicon

and ejaculated re: sprayed

vasocongested phallus led

coup d’etat draw viz night shade

Ollie Ollie oxen yawping,

in utero seminal raid

erogenous zone torched,

where hello kitty mewed

amidst Grafenberg tit parade

bumping uglies during

four nuke key eight ting game

where pinkish puckered frilly

labria tarry pit, viz biological

birth control relegated

desuetude Russian roulette played

hotly contested prurient pulsations,

purring kitty frenziedly clawed

viz faux pas seminal goop

to seed fruit carnal feral plain -

via blitzkrieg overlaid

whence hosannas sung praising

slimy prickly nightshade

gnome hatter shy ham mull in

gave way to blast ta cyst

vis a visa viz biological fertilization

qua two plump milkmaid

inchoate seeds juiced beginning

to cum in 2 make lemonade

per diem mother's

umbilical cord fueled gestation,

where sonogram showed

faint genetic threnody skein

perchance manifold offspring

more precious than jade

nope – no fallacy, when peppy

thrust with sucks esse full feint

after thwarting reconnoitering penile objection

nonetheless skin flute charmed,

thence didst invade

which conception begot,

thence chromosomal traits stitched

via mom jeans, and

pops faction trumpeting handmaid

din fecund glob began

to swell as biological reproduction

showed no uterine back grade

as Tabula rasa In utero endured

missile payload ejaculated flagellated

into mossy ever glade

sustenance promulgated noticeable

womb expansion fusillade

of nutriments ordaining future health of progeny

riddling endless questions within gallimaufry

discombobulated mental,

physical and spiritual fatigue enfilade

and spiritual state

of momma mia in family way,

whereby baby blueprint,

an outcome as nano sized atomic

bitty improvised explosive device scoured decades

to determine ontological makeup

from when fluid dynamics

spelling impregnation since time immemorial

perpetuating humanity's future cascade

artfully begetting, and concatenating

eminent grise immaculate kindred

exiting cervix laminated

with waxy substance

i.e. vernix, though smooth

doth serve analogous

to microscopic switch-blade

and cheers 2 motherhood,

especially when home birth

requisitioned midwife and doula as the sole aid.

R....U....OK...???

Me primate chronological

adolescent age evinced

flood microsoft billeted gates

bursting viz Dickensian

fleshy prickly sticky stub,

though smallish, zee

tallywhacker proudly, joyously,

and deftly socked one seminal bang

courtesy garden variety generic rammy buck,

whose berry pull lite

hello ladies twig, could land

sucker punch damn the torpedo puncturing,

wharf lewd gates demolished, thus testosterone

wrested control vis a vis

expunged mighty tsunami

forceful tidal waves jabbed

and pierced boxer shorts

rendering underwear utterly useless as what?...

donut hole? ring without a ding? toothless dad?....

thence retracted whet ragged limp, floppy duff

flay dud discobolus?,

chewed biscuit ova Yankee dew till

birthed via super fresh fielding

acme teenage heterosexual

whet dreams made me

stir crazy experiencing vivid

lifelike erotic fantasies

firm he to feel an ache kin,

beck kin ing , and whisk kin -

with a nod to wink n,

blinkin and nod mine engorged phallus

sought check kin

at cali fornication, per base feral,

hormonal, and primal

antsy animal atavistic antics

brazenly daring me tubby craven,

at least a baker's dozen

to embolden issuance qua greeting

with ha "good evening

forte tuff hide meat curtains -

ah hanker ta deux an Aaron" cull

of the wild, and an

SOS tummy doppelganger

bro' blow job, cuz

back in days of young adulthood

practically any moving object

inflated ma dill dough,

particularly with onset

of raging testosterone,

once upon time introverted primate

felt his cribbed penis

ready flow with seminal fluid

if he minimally attempted to exit -

figurative stage door left -

to avoid the gooey glop

tug go deeper thru

unguarded Trojan horse eyelet entrance

of this young

(self emasculating) man, whose ordinarily

rather small male gonad

got rock hard like a hoe

especially at most moist tender vittles

inopportune instances; or watching

the backside wiggle of

freshly minted female teacher

did cap cha this common Joe,

who felt stymied, frustrated,

and Bo' jangled and

screwed up with vasocongestion

ribbed skin flute

like any other horny teenager,

would know (or feign)

how to find suitable gamine orifice

and many dudes

bragged about their masculinity

boasting about their

high achieving Ivy League score,

war hie felt chill and chary,

asper suddenly tha air

felt like five bell hoe,

which pent up carnal craving

grudgingly caved into manual stimulation

(a piss poor substitute)

until the august moment

bedding bare naked lady

who allowed, enabled and

provided a proper outlet er...

and/or inlet firm aye

experience absent heterosexual drive

contrary to integral normal predilection

toward physical intimacy,

which natural, sexual union

more healthy than candy,

and delivered to our lives

wholesome buns in the oven, which progeny

we did kindle two tumblr full

daughters both well on their

merry (go round the mulberry bush -

with Cheney saw in hand) way

toward positive future, yet this once

risqué, pesky, and frisky father experienced

a kamikaze nosedive concerning horniness

linkedin to frigidity - ice scribe prozac

as bad ass pharmacological killer app

that gave masta baiter hiz mortal blow

with nary an slit tiff hide,

who haint so

hot fo' teacher, nor petty pussy,

whose when he espies tufted hello kitty.

Noah penile throbbing wracks

ma five feet and ten inch being,

yet arousal to enter the once portal

ova verboten fruit doth bring

measure for measure mush ado a boot

comb thing far this king fro licking in the lair

re: aperture felt envy and forced

to grapple with hearing

signature orgasmic groaning

signifying indubitable braggadocio.

greetings to a beautifully wrought reader

maybe ye happen to be a natural born leader

of potential countless progeny thee pine

to birth with midwife,

or yours truly as helpmate breeder.

yo yo ma beau wannabe fiddles -

while Rome yet to burn –

with genetic tool n die maker

dribbles microscopic raw bits

as sprinkled from chrome salt shaker

like Peter or Pedro

unsheathing sebastianic sword

sowing bumper crop

across miniature crescent fertile acre,

whence nine months later after seeds sown

will balloon like jiffy pop baker

ensuing homo sapiens continuity

sans mans’ best friend,

i sing the body electric

verdant maternal baby maker,

whereby thru meiosis snake charmer

let loose like a fire hose breaker,

a fusion of dna coinage

exploding burrito like seamen

firing miniscule torpedoes

attempting to zero in on bullseye

via groin ferret pointing sin gal lore gauge

an expostulating orating sage

traversing ova each coiled black barb,

whereby each dictatorial pin prick comet

propelled itself at light speed

their first scrimmage

thru viscous grid iron

swiftest tail lord made

pigskin harried styled

to go in one direction

and ambush hair reed

in an attempt to penetrate zona pellucida

an inxs of foo fighting

pearl jam minutemen not foreplay

but to forsake the supreme

consummate copulation –

as I up the flagpole notion

to propagate viz seminal seed

heady orgasm in need

et cetera, which impetus

of natural impulses –

regardless and/or despite imposition

per self restraint call of the wild did heed

safely skirting chain link fence

umbilical cord once tethered

while in utero thus freed

glory established with somnolent

touching down winning deed

dormant cohesion did breed

visible after ample gestation

revealed race, religion,

nationality or creed.

Adieu from Matthew Scott

a married sexagenarian

in an truth artificial render

intelligent 3D printed bot.

Goldy looked out at him expectantly.

He looked at Gold. What else could he say? That his woman was an anomaly from the moment she passed into viewing to when she passed away? I felt like we were clutching at something surreal, sometimes even when tightly held in both hands we were, still, out of grasp. Not that he doubted the commitment. Only disbelief hung over the situation like an L.F Baumian curtain. Like any man, he too had wanted to play wizard.

And she rose into his abode, suddenly all too physical, like a picture postcard folded into a paper airplane—stomped her little foot confronting him over dangerous potentially abusive mental warfare—and then apologized, grandly asking if was ok to continue? cuz she just wanted to make sure everything was ok.

It was okay.

He could watch that mouth carry on all day, whatever the fuck she was saying. The curvature of her ass on the way out even made him smile as she trailed away— like a little mouse he would have pulled back if he could by the tail, into his pocket. She looked back at him sweetly, attentively, misguidedly.

He shook his head.

Would Goldy understand? Probably not. Tinder.

So, he said: "Yeah. we met online."

There was a spoon on the table. Not the child's because that one was on the far corner conspicuously orange and squat. This one was randomly in the center, as if pulled out blindly in haste and used because the motion had already been given up to putting it back. It was a dessert spoon. Vintage, with just a little bit of that tarnish on the side.

She could see Silver picking it out, checking its weight and balance, the length of the arm versus the curved scoop. Feels about right. For Silvie even things had their personality and purposefulness. Goldy understood but as an afterthought, not as second nature. She'd been granted an easy resonance with surroundings, and Gold had always seen it as a direct contrast, conflicting as she herself too often did with her environment.

The effortlessness was illustrated lastingly in her long-term by that single telephone conversation in Hamberg with the handsome young man in the photograph. The picture taken only a year before confrontation. The call placed a year and a half later. Skype, but the camera refused suddenly to work. Goldy had given the phone over to her quickly, perhaps too quickly, and that maybe was the source of misunderstanding— really the voices too distinct to be mistaken in vibration. She watched, biting her lower lip, barely breathing, taking in the exchange. They chatted with the ease of ones who have known each other eons, reconnecting in a heartbeat. They'd probably recognize each other in the Terminal. And then, surprise:

With disappointment and her visible grief, he was saying, "...wonderful, Lovely, now do put Silvie on the line! I can't wait to talk to her."

"I am Silvie," listening to the shattering of newly found silence on his side of the dark. Goldy took the phone back, and they laughed it off.

It was like that. The two never spoke again, and Silver had no grudges, not against him, or her, nor the "accident." That was not the way in, the necessary humid wedge, by which tarnishing begins. Silver would keep the old man's memory polished. No, there was something else, there is always something else—divisive.

Goldy did not intend to stir up trouble, but she was intent on finding what it was that didn't quite yet make sense.