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johnny-noiπPoems
Chuckie wore a see-through negligee; she was barely even there...Eli ****** the journalist and staggered in drunk.. The mountains of Montenegro were pristine like snow-cones; Chuckie didn't mind Eli ******* the reporter, as she sat smoking, too wet to light up. Her cigar was a thick roll of crack ******* but sweating so hard & huffing the damp glass hose until dry heaving & falling to the floor. "Chuck, sit upright a-for ya choke," said Eli, lifting his feathery wife by the hairy ethereal armpit. "Uy, you're too wasted for drugs. You needa drink somethin," he slurred helpfully. Nodding, she fell into his arms, or against his chest & also back to the floor but throwing her over his shoulder, he went to find the kitchen. The reporter was still naked, trying to sneak out on tip-toe but he caught her. His face glowed red beneath his spiky shock of natural ***** blond; ***** because he'd been rolling in puke & sweat & *** his & hers. "Oh, you ought to be my brush!" he cried, setting his wife across a glass table & leaping on the girl knocking her off her bare feet, & dragging her through the carpeted house to a spare back room filled with industrial drums of various shades of enamel house paints. Aware of what was coming, she stiffened preparing for the artist to use her scrawny body, all 4'8" of it, as had previous generations, when Yves Klein & Ann-Margret, her childhood idol, created memorable masterpieces utilizing the nubile **** female body as a living paint brush
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Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 6:57 PM UTC
Paint Brush, by Eli Simple
Chuckie wore a see-through negligee; she was barely even there...Eli ****** the journalist and staggered in drunk.. The mountains of Montenegro were pristine like snow-cones; Chuckie didn't mind Eli ******* the reporter, as she sat smoking, too wet to light up. Her cigar was a thick roll of crack ******* but sweating so hard & huffing the damp glass hose until dry heaving & falling to the floor. "Chuck, sit upright a-for ya choke," said Eli, lifting his feathery wife by the hairy ethereal armpit. "Uy, you're too wasted for drugs. You needa drink somethin," he slurred helpfully. Nodding, she fell into his arms, or against his chest & also back to the floor but throwing her over his shoulder, he went to find the kitchen. The reporter was still naked, trying to sneak out on tip-toe but he caught her. His face glowed red beneath his spiky shock of natural ***** blond; ***** because he'd been rolling in puke & sweat & *** his & hers. "Oh, you ought to be my brush!" he cried, setting his wife across a glass table & leaping on the girl knocking her off her bare feet, & dragging her through the carpeted house to a spare back room filled with industrial drums of various shades of enamel house paints. Aware of what was coming, she stiffened preparing for the artist to use her scrawny body, all 4'8" of it, as had previous generations, when Yves Klein & Ann-Margret, her childhood idol, created memorable masterpieces utilizing the nubile **** female body as a living paint brush
Yves Klein was a French artist and an important figure in post-war European art. He was a leading member of the French artistic movement of Nouveau réalisme founded in 1960 by art critic Pierre Restany.
johnny-noiπ
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johnny-noiπ
... o xo ...
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 6:57 PM UTC
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