Things That Emerge From My Mind While Driving

Her belly was bloated, colored with black, purple,yellow. She was an outie, her navel about to pop a surprise. Her breasts were like empty Walmart plastic bags, lined with black veins. Her nipples oozed thick green drainage. Her head was next door, not watching CSI:Miami. But, you know what? At a certain angle, with the lights dimmed, she looked strangely erotic. Which made me carefully take a picture, and upload it to Swollenbabes.ru
It got 250 dismembered thumbs up.

What I Don’t Want To Hear When I Take A Woman Home

“Hey, mister, there’s a Tic Tac in your pubic hair.”
“Uh, that’s not a Tic Tac.”

The beginning of a story?

I was googling how to keep flies from laying eggs on my dead wife’s vagina, when there was a knock on the door.

I was watching 70’s porn, got nostalgic.
There’s a little compartment in a wife’s brain that stores every nasty thing you did, or said, to her. 30 years ago, 30 fuckin’ years! Okay, we had a fight, Marge, and me. I walked out of the house, said to her,” takes two paychecks to pay the bills, how you gonna survive, huh?” Marge glared at me, “maybe I’ll just have to prostitute myself,” she said. And I replied, with a bit of venomous mirth, “you’ll have to lose some weight, then, won’t ya.”
30 years ago! And she still talks about it! Oh, my God!
She hasn’t aged well. Went grey 20 years before her time. Gone to fat. Eats so much chocolate, she shits Easter eggs. Watches Dr Phil, Dancin’ With The Stars, and anything with a Kardashian in it. I’m sitting in my easy chair trying to watch the Indians game, and Marge is spewing up all this nostalgia. Her mouth always constantly moving, perpetually forming words that fail to enter my ears because I’ve learned over the years how to tune her out. Once in a while, though, something forces it’s way into my head.
“‘member, George, back in September 24th, 1993, I wore those earrings that you’d bought me the previous Christmas? The ones with the Amethyst gemstones, and diamonds? You didn’t even notice, even with me throwing you hints, an all. That hurt me, George. That really hurt me. I cried myself to sleep.”
Thankfully, I thought.
“Yeah, once again, and again, and again, Marge, I’m sorry, but at least I did notice the one time when you shaved your pussy.”
Man, I was shocked. As soon as I stripped off her panties, hairless pussy.
“What in the name of fuck, Marge! You’re pussy looks like a 12 year olds!” Well, a 12 year old who’s been putting out since she was 4.
“You think I like that? Think I’m a pedo? A fuckin’ freak!”
I was incensed. Then I had an idea. Fuck this. “You lay right there, don’t you move. I’ll be right back!”
I jumped off the bed, went into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, got some tweezers. Squatted. Began to pluck my ass hair. I mean, if you have to blow dry your ass after a shower, you got too much ass hair. So, I plucked, and plucked, enough to get a handful. Then I went downstairs and got some Elmer’s glue.
I’ll fix her, I thought.
She was still laying on her back, sobbing. Ah, fuck. “Shaddup, willya! I’m gonna make it right!”
So I put a little dab of Elmer’s on her pussy, stuck on a few hairs. A lil dab’ll do ya! A dab, a clump, a dab, a clump. Jesus, it was takin’ a long, long time. My dick had gone in a coma. And, pardon the pun, but, I’m one of those people who’s anal retentive. I had to get that triangle just right. Not an obtuse, or an Isosceles, I wanted an Equilateral triangle, but upside down. A real seventies magnificent bush. And the color had to be uniform, the flow of the ass hairs had to be in harmony. When I finally got it to my satisfaction, I heard snoring.
Dammit, Marge!
Hell, I thought, I’ve gone to all this work, by God, I’m not missing out. Asleep, or not, I’m going in!
Maybe if I start eating her out? Might wake her up? Won’t be rape, then? A grey area to be sure.
Fuck it. I went down on her.
And, Jesus Christ, her pussy smelled like my ass! Zest wasn’t doing it’s job. My ass wasn’t Zestfully clean. Gaggin’ I was. Nauseated.
And then I found out that Elmer’s glue doesn’t adhere well to pussy sweat, for a lot of the ass hair stuck to my face. When I ran to the bathroom to throw up, and wash the fuck out of my face, I saw myself in the mirror. I had this weird lookin’ ass hair mustache. Reminded me of the mustache John Holmes wore. Holmes was a porn star. Had a massive cock. Was a massive cock. He used his when golfing. Substituted it for his 9 iron. Even parred all the way. He probably used it as deadly weapon in the Wonderland murders. I remember watching Insatiable, where he was so coked up, he could hardly get it up. His mustache looked just like mine.
“George! George! Are you listening?”
“George, drone-drone-drone——-”
Time to get back to the game.

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