I heard faint noises downstairs, and I decided to investigate. I pulled on a pair of cut-off jeans and grabbed the old pump shotgun that had served me so well in Viet-Nam from under my bed and crept downstairs to check. My Ranger training came into play, and I moved soundlessly, down the stairs and into the living room. An air of vague shadowy figures were searching through the cabinet that housed my collection of antique silver. I announced my presence in a sudden and intimidating manner: I merely pumped the action of the shotgun, then immediately moved to the right so if anyone shot, he would shoot where I had been, not where I was now. That sound was a language that everyone understood, including the two figures before me. They froze, and were still motionless.

"Mr. Steve?" one of the figures quavered. "Please don't shoot!"

I recognized the voice as belonging to Lisa, the twenty-year-old daughter of my nearest neighbor. I didn't know who the other person was or who else may be in the house, so I kept the shotgun pointed in their direction and hit the light switch with my free hand. Immediately a car cranked up in my driveway, and tires squealing, raced out to the road and away. I looked at my midnight visitors. I recognized Lisa and Julie, who was a close friend of Lisa's and a frequent overnight visitor of hers. They were holding between them a laundry bag containing most of my silver collection. I lowered the muzzle of the cut down shotgun.

"You sure know how to get yourselves killed," I stated. "Mind telling me who was in the car? You don't want to take the rap all by yourselves."

"Please don't shoot! That was Mike, it was all his idea! He made us do it! He said he would put us out and make us walk home if we didn't do it! Are you going to call the Cops?"

Now I could understand why the girls tried to burglarize my home. It was a fifteen-mile walk home in pitch darkness on a moon-less night for the two frightened girls. It was just what a worthless **** like Mike would pull. Knowing what I did about Lisa's boyfriend, I knew what he probably needed the money for. He was nineteen; the only job he had ever had was selling drugs, and I don't mean at the pharmacy. He was a charmer though. Girls fell for his good looks and his charm, and would do anything for him, and he of course chose the best looking one of the bunch, Lisa. She never realized what a slime-ball he really was. The problem was that Lisa didn't have a father to threaten to put a bullet in Mike's behind, and her mother was just as deceived as she was.

"You broke into my house and attempted to steal my belongings. Why shouldn't I?" I said with false sternness. I wouldn't really turn them in, now that I knew the situation. I would give the girls a good scare, then a ride home. Maybe then Lisa would see through Mike's veneer.

"Because we'll do anything you want," Julie offered, speaking for the first time. "Anything at all!"

Julie stepped over and ran her hand up my leg, pausing to tweak the head of my ****, which was hanging out of the leg of my cutoffs. I hadn't bothered to pull on any underwear. Julie was almost as good looking as Lisa was. Both girls had fabulous bodies, large firm ****, and smooth well-rounded *****. Julie had a cute face, whereas Lisa was absolutely beautiful.

"Yes, anything you want to do!" Lisa agreed.

The girls weren't wanton *****, but scared out of their wits and taking the only way out that they could think of. Of course they weren't virgins. It hadn't occurred to me to take advantage of the girls like this, and I would have declined Julie's offer if she hadn't fooled with my **** like that. You see, I was developing an outrageous *******, and with my **** hanging down the leg of some fairly tight shorts, the situation was rapidly becoming painful and serious. I had to get those pants off fast! Also, I hadn't been laid in quite a while. I decided to lay my cards on the line.

"You kids know me. I never had any intention of calling the Cops. I was going to give you a scare to teach you a lesson, then drive you home. Does that mean the offer is withdrawn?"

The girls looked at each other and both breathed a sigh of relief, big smiles on their faces. Lisa winked at Julie. "Nope," Julie said, smiling, "It still stands. Lets go upstairs."

I escorted the girls to my bedroom, pressed the magazine block on the shotgun, pumped out the shell that was still in the chamber, then put it back in the magazine. I tossed it onto the dresser with a loud thump.

I turned around and both girls were stark naked. Lisa came over, dropped to her knees, and planted a wet kiss on the head of my painfully throbbing ****. My ******* became harder still. I had to get out of those cutoffs! Julie solved that problem. She unzipped and unbuttoned them and gently worked them down around my rock-hard ****, allowing it to spring up to freedom.

"Lets get on the bed first," I suggested, "Then we have fun."

"Lay down on your back," Lisa insisted. "Have we got something for you!"

I complied, and Lisa leaned over and put my **** in her hot mouth. Her tongue swirled over the head, ran up and down the shaft, and started over again. I looked over at Julie and she was watching avidly. Not having anything better to do with my hands, I reached between her legs and caressed her ****. Julie gasped with surprise, then spread her legs. Her **** was already hot and wet, so I slid my ******* in all the way, then started finger ******* her and massaging her **** with my thumb. Her **** hardened and grew. Julie had her eyes closed and was erotically tweaking her ***** *******. She was slowly lowering her body, deepening the ******* of my finger, and rocking her hips back and forth, intensifying the stroking of her ****. Julie's hot ***** juices ran down my hand while Lisa's mouth was still working on my throbbing ****.

I began to draw my hand from Julie's sopping wet ****, but she grabbed it and held it tightly to her crotch. I pulled my hand now, and she came with it. I grabbed her thigh and swung her leg over me, so she was now sitting on my chest. I pulled my finger from her hungry ****, grabbed her ***, and pulled her ****** right up to my face. As soon as I flicked her **** with the tip of my tongue, she went wild, ******* my face, filling my nostrils with the sweet aroma of her **** juices. I thought I would give her all the licking she could handle. I rammed my tongue into her ****-hole with all my might, then gently nibbled on her ****. Apparently she had a low threshold, as this was all she could stand.

"Oh God, I'm coming!" she screamed, ground her **** into my face one more time, quivered, then collapsed sideways onto the bed.

One down, one to go. I looked at Lisa, still ******* my **** for all she was worth. I was nearing the end of my endurance, and I still hadn't had my **** in any hot **** yet. I grabbed Lisa's shoulders and pulled her mouth from my ****. I turned her around and held her up, her blonde ***** triangle just inches over my waiting tool.

"Give it to her! Now!" Julie whispered.

Lisa's **** didn't look wet or ready to take anything in it yet, but my **** was ready to take some *****. Julie reached over and spread the lips to Lisa's still dry *****, and began tweaking her ****. Lisa gasped her surprise at her most private place being touched by another chick. Within seconds though, her **** and inner ***** lips began to swell, and her juices started flowing. I slowly lowered Lisa to my rod, admiring her glistening pinkness. Julie guided my throbbing rod into Lisa's wet love hole.

"Please, be careful! Ah-h-h-h! Go slow, I'm so tight!"

I lowered Lisa very carefully, for her hot ****-hole was indeed the tightest ***** I had ever felt. With that in mind, I fought the urge to slam her down on my eager ****. As soon as she was down, I grabbed her *** and began sliding her back and forth. Lisa bit her lip as a tear trickled down from one eye.

"Stop, Mr. Steve! It's hurting her!" Julie commanded. Then to Lisa, "You haven't done it much, have you?"

"Just once, with Mike, and he isn't this big. It hurt then, too!" Lisa sobbed. "I wanted so bad to do it with Mr. Steve because he's been so nice to me, and I was so scared when I saw how big he was. Oh, it hurts!"

"You'd better get up then." I reassured, "I don't want to do anything to you that you don't want me to do."

"I want to go on, really I do! But don't you have anything I could use to make it easier?"

"Yeah, any Vaseline, or KY jelly, or something like that?" Julie asked.

"I have some KY jelly in the bathroom." I answered.

Julie jumped up and padded into the bathroom. I watched her naked *** jiggle as she left.

"You're gonna have to get up." I told Lisa. I gently lifted her ***. She bit her lip again and moaned as my **** slowly withdrew from her tortured hole. With a pop from her *****, a shriek burst from her lips as my **** sprung from her nearly dry ****-hole. She knelt on the bed next to me, softly crying, clutching herself where it hurt. I realized that she had been wrong in pretending to be so eager. A more gentle approach was needed.

I reached over, pulled her to me, and kissed her lips passionately. She ****** once in surprise, then melted into my arms, returning my kiss, forgetting the pain in her ****. I ran my hand around to her firm **** and gently stroked her *******, feeling them harden under my touch. I pulled my mouth from hers and kissed the point of each hard ******. She moaned and gasped with each touch of my lips, but from pleasure this time, not from pain. While I had her aroused, I lightly traced circles on her tummy with my finger, each circle going lower and lower, until I finally reached the blonde **** of her ***** hair. Slowly, I reached down and cupped her ***** with my hand, being careful not to press too hard or insert my finger. I would know when she was ready for *******. She responded with a **** and a gasp. I pressed again, and she gasped again. I kissed each firm ****** one last time, then started kissing down her tummy to her love nest, which was now warming and starting to respond to my touch.

I spread her legs and gently ran the tip of my tongue the full length of her slit. When I reached the vicinity of her ****, she reacted as though she had been shocked. She arched her back, pressing her **** against my face. Maybe she was ready. I probed again with my tongue, harder this time, hard enough to separate her ****-lips and tickle her ****. She went mad again, jerking and twitching in response to the touch of my tongue, moaning and panting. Then I felt her **** harden, her inner lips swell and spread, and her delicious juices start to flow. Now she was definitely ready for more. I probed her ****-hole with my tongue, licked all the way up to her ****, swirled it around, bit it gently, and then probed her hole again. When I started doing all this, she went even wilder. She spread her legs, ****** and reared against my face, and pulled my head tight against her hot cooze.

"Oh-h-h-h-h, **** me," she moaned, "I can't stand it any more! I don't care if it does hurt! Please, please **** me!"

I put her throbbing **** between my lips and gave it one hard ****, drawing it completely into my mouth, and pulled my head back sharply, causing her **** to pop back. She screamed, ****** her hips at me, and grabbed her sweating *******.

When she had subsided, her legs still spread, I mounted her in the traditional position. I started to position my throbbing pole for a gentle entry, but Lisa released her **** and spread her ****-lips with one hand and guided my tool to her sopping wet ****-hole with the other. She was much wetter now than when Julie diddled her ****, wet enough to ****.

"Please do it now!" Lisa pleaded.

I began to insert my **** cautiously, and found that due to her juices, entry was no problem. Lisa groaned like a ****** as I slid into her hot wetness. When she had taken as much of my ten-inch tool as she could, I still wasn't all the way in. But she began pumping her hips, causing the swollen head of my **** to ram against the back of her *****. She was as deliciously tight as before, but she must have been stretching, for with just a few strokes, my ***** were slapping against her ***, and I was in to the hilt. My tenderness and foreplay had paid off.

"Oh-h-h-h, that's good!" she purred when I began pumping to meet her rhythm. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and was pumping as hard as I was. With each stroke, I would completely withdraw from her hot, tight wetness, then shove my eager tool back in to the hilt, never missing her voracious target, always sliding easily in, jamming against the back of her *****.

Her pumping increased in tempo, and I sped up to match. Each pump became harder and more frantic than the one before. Lisa's breathing became harder and faster. She was about to come, and I wanted to come with her. I raised her legs over my shoulders so that I had a better angle at the depths of her tight hole, and started ramming as hard as I could.

"Don't stop! I think I'm gonna come! Oh-h-h, its so good! Come in me! Oh, please, I want to feel your load in me!" Lisa screamed. She bucked and reared and screamed incoherently, then went limp. I continued to pump. In just a few seconds, she began to pump anew. For more times than I could count, she orgasmed.

Once I felt my ****** approaching, I gave her one last hard ram and drove my weapon in as far as I could. I came at this point, spurting her sweet, tender Steve **** full of my hot sticky come, like an erupting volcano. She gasped, trembled, and fell back to the bed. I pulled out my softening ****. Our ****** energies were spent for the moment.

I glanced down at the foot of the bed, and saw Julie, whom I had forgotten. She sat in the chair at the foot of the bed, her legs spread, working a coke bottle in and out of her *****. She had found the KY jelly, then found us ******* away. Feeling left out but excited by the ****** sight of her best friend getting a good *******, she slicked up the coke bottle and began using it as a *****.

I saw that Lisa also was seeing something she had never seen before, her best friend's ****, gaping open, a coke bottle almost disappearing inside it. "Look how far in she puts it! And see how big it is to go in her like that. How does she do it?" Lisa asked, amazed.

"Why don't you get a closer look," I suggested. "Ask her." Lisa crawled down to the foot of the bed and sat on the end, astounded, watching Julie *******.

Julie finally looked down, under heavy-lidded eyes and saw Lisa so close. "Why don't you do this for me?" Julie asked.

"How?" Lisa queried.

"Just do what I'm doing now," came Julie's reply. Lisa watched for a few seconds more, then pushed Julie's hand aside and grasped the slippery end of the bottle. "In and out, and twist it a little bit. Oh, yes-s-s, oh, yes-s-s. Do it good, oh, that's so good!" Julie purred.

My **** was hardening again at the sight of one female ******* another.

I had an idea. If Julie was as promiscuous as she seemed, she might not object to what I had in mind. While Lisa continued to work the bottle in Julie's stretched ****, I helped Julie out of the chair and down to the floor, her heaving **** on the floor, her *** up in the air. She stayed in the position, crooning wordlessly, **** juice dribbling down her thighs, Lisa still ******* her.

I picked up the tube of KY jelly that Julie had used, and liberally covered my ***** rod with it. Then I stood behind Julie, straddling Lisa.

"What are you going to do?" Lisa asked.

"Watch and see!" I responded. With that I grasped Julie's hips and aimed my **** at the delicate rosette of Julie's ***. Using my **** like a weapon, I suddenly shoved my tool in as far as I could. Julie let out a scream, tearing out fistfuls of carpet.

"Oh God, **** my ***! That hurts so good! **** me harder, give me all you've got! Make it hurt! Give me more of that bottle!"

"I'm ***-******* Julie!" I informed Lisa, who was now completely mind-blown.

I needed no invitation, and neither did Lisa. Both of us gave Julie all we could, Lisa with the bottle in Julie's ****, me with my **** far up Julie's clenching ***. Julie rocked back to take us both in, then forward, then back for more. I couldn't see

Your a rich ****
A big big rich ****
And everybody knows except for you
You never care for the poor
You never want the poor to have fun
You just ride your bike up manly beach looking like a real snob
And you leave your kids money
What about us
Hey rich ****
Are you listening rich ****
You want big banks to get all the money and none for us
You see you don’t care
For the little guys you rich ****
You give every rich man tax cuts
And high superannuation payments and take the poor‘ away
Your a rich ****
When you are dead mr rich ****
I will never mourn you when you are dead
It will be time for celebration
Of a great big rich ****
I know there are a lot of people
Who like you but I don’t
And I want you to get away from my life
Because you are a rich ****
A big rich ****
You see you wouldn’t care about how poor people suffer
And that is what you do
I really want you
To listen to us and make us feel needed mate well, not you
Never you you don’t care
If we haven’t got money to live
Just as long as your family are fine, that is all that matters
Hey rich ****
Mr big rich ****
You created homeless people
And if they complain you don’t care
You are a rich ****
A big fat rich ****
While we do our art being
Proper role models
You look at the stocks
So you can go on a holiday
And forget about us
We need to pay our bills mate
You get to see the business world
So you can say
I am up there with the rich ***** having fun

what was i going to write?! sometimes i have this labyrinth in my head, but then i keep forgetting that i have one to walk through...

well, at least i know that i'm not *******
pornographic actresses,
you can't be a woman and fake pleasure
with a paranoid "p.",
i have this knack of sniffing acting out...
esp. during ****** *******...

why am i still writing about ***?
call it Picasso's red / blue period before he designated
himself / rediscovered himself as
the godfather of cubism...

a Cezanne exhibition is on at the Tate Modern...
****... and there's a Lucian Freud exhibition
happening at the National Gallery...
coin flip? n'ah... i'll go to both, alone,
because it never feels like a date with a girl
when you're admiring fine art: even though:
don't ask: i hate Lucian Freud...

it's raining and it's the night veiling my scope
of vision... must seem like a weekend over
at Dubai for some women:
well... England, soggy, nighttime:
this is paradise for me...
  this is my heaven... this is my twisting
upper-lip my whirlwind my: half of halves...
i will not give up the night so easily,
not when it rains...

Mmmm: 'oses... 'ohammad...
half baked or half as mad?
                   by now, does it matter?
sure... i've bought lingerie for Khedra...
pretty girlish pink and white stockings...
unprotected ***... fine... fine...
but what if i want to "slobber"?
ugh... she gave me a line of ******* to sniff:
strange drug... it's a placebo...
i stopped drinking coffee just to prove a point:
nicotine is my go to alternative
when it comes to replacing caffeine...
but *******?
i might as well be asking a pigeon
to bite off a seagull's leg... seriously...

but something felt different...
i already ****** that girl 14 years younger than me:
i don't esp. like ******* the idea
of ******* corpses...
but no surprises...
at least i'm not ******* pornographic movie
actresses... i ought to know whether
the women are lying are not...
thank god she tried, pretended,
and got away with playing a corpse...
a mouse gives out more reciprocating onomatopoeia
messaging than this, "clever" looking "thing"
gave out...

i tried doing a 69'er with Khedra once...
ugh... it wasn't the *******...
it was the anti-contraceptive pills...
oral *** was bad...
i had pharmaceutical dust all over my tongue
and supposed nose...
like eating a double infused grapefruit
with a double infused grapefruit...
bitter as ****: and there was me remembering:
oral *** on a woman's **** leaves a man
licking his lips a day after...
i love performing oral *** on a woman...

it's not fair that she should debase herself
doing all the work prior...
i like performing oral *** on women...
i think i left my skull nearby a freshly licked ****
at one point...
indeed... i think i have...
i just pretend i'm  granddad without
any teeth but a tongue to slobber with...
my beard gets wet from all the dripping...
fair enough...

i can have unprotected *** with Khedra...
but... i can't eat out her ****...
conundrum!
with Mikaela i have to have protected ***...
but? i can became a slob
with the ****...
my nose dives in... my tongue imitates
a phallus... i'm giving her the double kissing
her mouth would otherwise require...
i love ***...
i need ***...

if both of us are giggling during it?
well... i must be doing something right...
because i know: i ******* know...
there's this pornographic veil akin to the iron curtain
struggling / suffocating "us"...
i know there is...

i bump my head on the mirror,
she bumps her head on the mirror...
but we're still laughing...
she tells me: ******* ******* her are too much
so i reduce it to the index...
next time we meet: and i hope it's tomorrow,
i don't think half an hour will be enough...
i think i'll need an hour with her...
i'll cry to the outer-limits of what's viably
in the realm of existence and utter:
this i wed, because this is what i had fun with!

69'er...
     i just want her fat *** to choke my face
into a... murk-around of crafting a Pistachio cream...
mein gott: performing oral *** on a woman
is so re-invigorating...
it's almost like being born-again!
she's clutching your hands one minute...
she's pulling your hair another...
you already ****** an actress... 14 year your junior...
you having *** with her was you
having *** with a corpse... literally... mute games...
but when you come across a coupled:
*** is fun... *** is all about having fun...
the game shifts...

she'll learn... once she has had enough terrible
partners...

but the way she indicated: upon parting i implored
to kiss her cheek... nope!
she took out her index and pointed at her forehead:
kiss me here, upon parting...
which i did... but i need a second taste of that ****!
it's like waking up with a history you haven't inherited:
or don't wish to have...

Christianity didn't give us this!
philosophy or technology or, whatever!
you want to fight words with images and metaphors?!
you want to fight blood with wine and
fight body with bread?!
you want to?
yeah? let's go!

happy are those, who come, to, my, supper!
well... back in Dickensian times...
oysters? they weren't party food...
certainly not food for the elites, certainly not
aphrodisiac nibbles...
oysters used to be the food of the poor...
ergo?

hmm...

i woke up today... i was supposed to go clubbing
in central London last night...
i was only ever going to make to the brothel...
why? i was going to perform oral *** on a *******
and hear her onomatopoeia
of gloat...
    from mute through to gloat...
i like it when a woman moans with pleasure...
it sort of reminds me of why / how a cow moos
when she's being milked...
same ****? for sure... different cover...

another shift tomorrow: at least i know one
is not on anti-contraceptive pills...
i'll eat that **** out before i perform any ******* intrusion...
i'll burry my nose and hide my heard
in that...

the best profanity of the Christian Church
yet to be envisioned...
this is my body: an oyster... the **** of *******
eaten raw... "rhetorical practice"...
this is my "blood": a bottle of wine-strength
cider, i.e. "blood": more like my... ****!
oyster-**** and cider-****!

what? you want imagery to weigh more concrete
on the demand for the worth of words
while at the same time demeaning the worth
of words with either imagery or metaphor?
best the best poets are natural opponents of
actors and journalists!

i still can't stop thinking about performing oral
*** on a woman...
it's like speaking 50+ over ******* tongues!
like i don't understand that some, think,
it's worthwhile:
to be a male and competing with women
for expressed sexuality...

well, d'uh: women in harems have more ***...
the sly ******* amongst us forgave to forget...
i **** carelessly... because i like to ****...
i like to drink too... but i also like to ****...
i have limited interests, when it comes to interests...
which makes it perfect for me
to chose the most treasured of interests to
be the most prized! even though, they're not...
not with the wrong type of woman...
esp. a woman much younger than you...

i prefer monkeys, pigeons... crows...
dogs, lions, bears, cats, tigers...
camels, horses... i prefer... dim-wits and dumb-*****...
rain's ******* fine...

what?!

i'm a ****-sucker! i love, *******, ****!
i used to love eating oyster....
this is "my" body: i.e. hers' oyster...
the **** that be her...
what blood?
you're getting my ****! you're not getting my
blood!
and my "blood" is? a bottle of cider...
that's my "blood", i.e. my ****...
and that body? that's her ****... which i slobbered
all over...
happy? you crucified, *****?!

this is what happens when words lose
their intended value...
bread is my flesh?
wine is my blood? i too can play the same game...
i already played it:
the flesh? a *****'s ****... an oyster...
no blood...
you'll be drinking my **** for the next 1000 years...
i.e. a bottle of cider!

just because your father was a *******
carpenter... and my father a roofer...
what, the, ****, does, that, make, you,
you would be ******* incarnate yoyo?!
you were a carpenter, but i was also a roofer!

i'll stop writing about *** when i stop having
*** regularly... not until then....
hmm... she reminds me of someone...
Jasmine... Black...
i'm surprised by how much allure
excess flab has on me...
there's so much "geography" to master
concerning a woman's body...
and you never quiet know if you're getting it right...
well... after ******* a 14 year old junior mute
stiff as a corpse... not willing to kiss...
i don't think i'm buying lies
with those moans and groans...

yeah: i'll stop writing about *** the moment
i stop having *** so frequently / on a regular basis...
i'm meditating in continuum
rather than in situ...
there's a clear distinction...
Diwali came only a few nights before
Guy Fawkes' Night...
there is, a clear distinction...
i.e. between meditation in continuum
and meditation in situ...