cum on...tell the truth
strange things are happening. i received an e-response in answer to a e-question i sent. let me tell you the answer before i tell you the question:
"
The taste of his cum ...
the hot lust on my skin ...
... and that sticky wet sexy slutty nasty feeling!!!
"
ok then.
the question was:
"
what about this do you like?
"
the thing that spurred the question was a sex scene that ended with the female character asking the male character to do his business on her face and rub it all over her cheeks with his tool.
huh.
anyway, the blog writer says his/her site has won or at least been nominated for some sexblog award.
what do i know.
another strange thing: a friend has actually decided to take me up on creating something of a artistic duo: his paintings, my poetry.
huh.
he's won some awards too--photography. not sure about his painting--he's relatively new to the sport.
in either case, whatever strange thing is inside finds its expression outside. somehow. it forces itself to the surface like a swimmer dying for air. flash! crystaline sparklers! and the creature is through the surface sucking in airy sun-splattered life--just to pull it back underwater....
what is this strangeness...its hiddennesses...its exposures...?
is truth stranger than fiction b/c it's truth or b/c it's fiction?
"
The taste of his cum ...
the hot lust on my skin ...
... and that sticky wet sexy slutty nasty feeling!!!
"
ok then.
the question was:
"
what about this do you like?
"
the thing that spurred the question was a sex scene that ended with the female character asking the male character to do his business on her face and rub it all over her cheeks with his tool.
huh.
anyway, the blog writer says his/her site has won or at least been nominated for some sexblog award.
what do i know.
another strange thing: a friend has actually decided to take me up on creating something of a artistic duo: his paintings, my poetry.
huh.
he's won some awards too--photography. not sure about his painting--he's relatively new to the sport.
in either case, whatever strange thing is inside finds its expression outside. somehow. it forces itself to the surface like a swimmer dying for air. flash! crystaline sparklers! and the creature is through the surface sucking in airy sun-splattered life--just to pull it back underwater....
what is this strangeness...its hiddennesses...its exposures...?
is truth stranger than fiction b/c it's truth or b/c it's fiction?
posted by stacy muszynski at 12:35 AM
3 Comments:
With some strangers, their fiction is just strange
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