Pink Litter 14/10
In my dreams Irene won’t shut up. Even asleep of her I can’t get shut.
Celebrated porno queen, virtual ATM machine. Does about a gang a day to keep the bills away.
Whenever I key off my card the numbers I ache to rid myself of the riddle of her wink – mouth otherwise occupied with either the meat of her trade or the vowels of ecstasy faked:
What goes on three legs to the bank; comes back with nothing to show but a wank?
Oh, it’s me, I know. But I burn to stymie that eye begging my spine so bent on escape. Succubus won’t stay at the back of the bus. Desideratum any dum-dum must compute.
Everytime she riddles – mouth stuffed or in an O – in her glint I bask, unable to stop the whole of my being aroused.
In my dreams Irene won’t shut up. Even asleep of her I can’t get shut.
Oh how you want them…until they won’t leave you alone. Oh how you want them on you and can’t wait to get them off. Something like that — M.R.
