She’s hot. My God her ass in her green shorts lying on her stomach on the picnic blanket. She has long puffy nipples. Didn’t see them “in person” but no bra and her sheer white athletic T shirt. I can’t tell what’s going on– maybe some kind of piercing. Which would be unfortunate. But I think long puffy nipples. And I think about sucking one hard with my tongue pushing it into my palate like a baby really working to get milk out of it. While I have two fingers hooked in her making her cum. And then I put a real baby in her who really does suck hard to get milk out of it.
She has like five gray hairs on one side. Ten on the other. Even that makes me horny. The age appropriateness of it. The societal acceptability of her five gray hairs. And I like her. I even like her tattoos. The way she talks about her tattoo artist, reverentially. The smell of the sweat from the back of her neck on my palms, her cool skin, her uh…
I don’t know. I don’t remember other details. Tasteful muffin top. Don’t remember details but she’s a not fat Asian woman with long hair and she seems to like me and I like her. And I woke up at 5:30 thinking about holding her in my bed. Smelling her crown. This is how you know. We got an ice cream. She wouldn’t kiss me because of COVID. She likes hiking. She was interested in sparrows.
Relax man.
I get hopeful. Then they blow off the second date. Look she’s no Angela. Don’t overtext her. Don’t undertext her. You made plans she’ll flake on. You can still marry a Filipina. Can I even date someone. Would you give up your books and your stupid persona. No one’s offering.
Don’t force a punchline here. Don’t push it into some therapy shaped hole. Abandoned by my mother. Don’t force yourself to be rational. Let it wash over you. And then what.
Should I not post this. What if she sees it. Honey, you gotta know– this is what I’m really like.
delicioustacos 
Oh man, now you went and dunnit….outed yourself in a fit of self sabotage. The saga continues.
Finally got around to reading “The Pussy”. Halfway through. Laugh my ass off every page. Straight fire man, straight fire.
I feel the same way about Jodi Arias. Just seeing her name mentioned in some obscure thread on slash tv slash gets blood pumping directly to my dick. Like, I want to drive straight to the Arizona prison she’s in, drive all day and sleep in motels along the way. Drink only Red Bulls and survive on In-n-Out burgers. Eyes bulging out of my skull as I listen to the same Audioslave CD over and over.
When I finally get there I’ll demand to see her. I’ll say I’m her biggest fan and online supporter. I’ll tell her I created and update various social medias and web-blogs dedicated to proving her innocence. She’ll giggle and say “sure let’s chat” and we’ll spend the allotted time talking, and fall in love. I’ll stay in the nearest shanty town. Get some temp job, then move up to honest blue collar work. Keep visiting her until finally they grant us a conjugal visit. I’ll go balls deep no condom and coom inside her, filling her up so much it leaks out. My passionate sperm will impregnate her last remaining egg. Nine months later she’ll give birth to our child….a healthy son, my blonde hair with her slight-mexican face. He doesn’t cry, he just sneers at the prison doctor, who sort of looks like Harry Dean Stanton, and says “whatchu lookin at”.
15 grey hairs??? FIFTEEN?? oh gawd oh lawd. the sexual marketplace is irrevocably broken. also: stop holding my comments in moderation. over half the comments left on your blog are me and my other personalities. if it weren’t for my outbursts about how you ought to put your book in the sidebar and reactive your twiatter, your book sale numbers would be in the toilet. i don’t expect a thank you, i just want to be able to leave stupid comments once in a while. respect free speech, Tacos. least you could do.