on it in no time… I have my finger up there… I have my tongue up
there… It isn’t two minutes before I have my tongue so far up her little round behind that I got no choice but to make funny
little obscene snorting noises… It’s beautiful… I’m comfortable in this neighborhood… I want to lick every part of this girl…
I suck on her toes… I lick her armpits… Jesus… I can’t even talk anymore… That pussy with its pink folds and its uptown juices…
NOTHING MATTERS… I lap… I suck… I flick… I push… I want to absorb her… Engulf her with my tongue… Until finally she comes…
Trembling… Andshaking… For long enough that I can flip her over and work on her tight little sphincter… She’s mine if only for a few seconds…
She can be anyone’s… She can be her own… I don’t care… It doesn’t matter… That’s all politics… And bullshit… And power… And
this is sex… I’m a loser… I’m a winner… I’m afraid… I’m a fraud… It’s all words… It’s all BULLSHIT!
I continue to nibble on her clit while I fumble through my pockets looking for those damn hiding rubbers, never seem to be
in the same pocket I put them in. It’s hard to keep up the intensity but I do my best. Diane’s pussy juice is all over my
face. I feel like the floor of a Good Humor truck on the hottest day in July. It’s frustrating but I finally manage to roll
the latex sock down the length of my rig. I slither my way back to her wanting mouth with soft kisses… Allowing… Offering
my mouth full of her. Her pussy is now wide open and fully juiced and I begin to ease my cellophaned member down deep. It’s
warm even with the raingear on. I feel at home. I wanna cry. I never want to leave. It’s so rare I feel safe. Like I’m gonna
spend the rest of my life sitting around waiting in cold empty bus stations in towns like Denver and Santa Fe and Washington…
Always waiting to leave… Always feeling like it’s time to go. Instead of curling up deep in warm motherpussy. I stroke long…
Gentle and soft… I hope my rubber doesn’t break and give her my little curse… I kiss her… I love her but I can’t tell her…
I pray I don’t infect her… I turn my headaway… I have to look around her… She’ll know I care too much… I hope I don’t ruin her… I hope I don’t ruin this… Please, Mr.
Rubber, don’t burst… I’m floating… I’m free… Don’t let this thing end… I love this feeling… Can’t give her my burden… And
I come… Slowly and painfully… With a groan from my Inner never-never land… From somewhere inside of me that I can’t get to
alone… I arch my back and close my eyes… And go black for the release… I collapse into a sweating ball on top of her… Clinging
to her… A clown warming a cave, born for a prince.
PUIP 29
Lying in bed with sleeping arms around me, I remember sitting in a chair in a house surrounded by cats. Eight or nine of the
furry little aloof fuckers looking up at me, sniffing me. I love the house. It’s the Good Witch’s house and I love cats because
the Good Witch taught me to love cats. Cats are like people with guts. Most people don’t like cats because they want them
to be like sappy dogs yearning for affection, wanting to be owned. The dogs are fine. It’s the people. Cats are loners, cool
loners who just drop in now and then and say, “Hello,” and maybe grab a quick bite to eat. The Good Witch told me that you
always have to keepa few spares around the house because cats tend to die untimely deaths. There are a lot of Cat Killers out there. I mighta
been a Cat Killer but I met the Good Witch. I’m not listening to the cats though, I’m listening to Lindsey.
“Jimi, I just don’t feel that good about myself right now. It isn’t you. I don’t know… I guess I feel kind of dirty or something.”
Yeah, I know that feeling… I’ve had it for a coupla years. It
there… It isn’t two minutes before I have my tongue so far up her little round behind that I got no choice but to make funny
little obscene snorting noises… It’s beautiful… I’m comfortable in this neighborhood… I want to lick every part of this girl…
I suck on her toes… I lick her armpits… Jesus… I can’t even talk anymore… That pussy with its pink folds and its uptown juices…
NOTHING MATTERS… I lap… I suck… I flick… I push… I want to absorb her… Engulf her with my tongue… Until finally she comes…
Trembling… Andshaking… For long enough that I can flip her over and work on her tight little sphincter… She’s mine if only for a few seconds…
She can be anyone’s… She can be her own… I don’t care… It doesn’t matter… That’s all politics… And bullshit… And power… And
this is sex… I’m a loser… I’m a winner… I’m afraid… I’m a fraud… It’s all words… It’s all BULLSHIT!
I continue to nibble on her clit while I fumble through my pockets looking for those damn hiding rubbers, never seem to be
in the same pocket I put them in. It’s hard to keep up the intensity but I do my best. Diane’s pussy juice is all over my
face. I feel like the floor of a Good Humor truck on the hottest day in July. It’s frustrating but I finally manage to roll
the latex sock down the length of my rig. I slither my way back to her wanting mouth with soft kisses… Allowing… Offering
my mouth full of her. Her pussy is now wide open and fully juiced and I begin to ease my cellophaned member down deep. It’s
warm even with the raingear on. I feel at home. I wanna cry. I never want to leave. It’s so rare I feel safe. Like I’m gonna
spend the rest of my life sitting around waiting in cold empty bus stations in towns like Denver and Santa Fe and Washington…
Always waiting to leave… Always feeling like it’s time to go. Instead of curling up deep in warm motherpussy. I stroke long…
Gentle and soft… I hope my rubber doesn’t break and give her my little curse… I kiss her… I love her but I can’t tell her…
I pray I don’t infect her… I turn my headaway… I have to look around her… She’ll know I care too much… I hope I don’t ruin her… I hope I don’t ruin this… Please, Mr.
Rubber, don’t burst… I’m floating… I’m free… Don’t let this thing end… I love this feeling… Can’t give her my burden… And
I come… Slowly and painfully… With a groan from my Inner never-never land… From somewhere inside of me that I can’t get to
alone… I arch my back and close my eyes… And go black for the release… I collapse into a sweating ball on top of her… Clinging
to her… A clown warming a cave, born for a prince.
PUIP 29
Lying in bed with sleeping arms around me, I remember sitting in a chair in a house surrounded by cats. Eight or nine of the
furry little aloof fuckers looking up at me, sniffing me. I love the house. It’s the Good Witch’s house and I love cats because
the Good Witch taught me to love cats. Cats are like people with guts. Most people don’t like cats because they want them
to be like sappy dogs yearning for affection, wanting to be owned. The dogs are fine. It’s the people. Cats are loners, cool
loners who just drop in now and then and say, “Hello,” and maybe grab a quick bite to eat. The Good Witch told me that you
always have to keepa few spares around the house because cats tend to die untimely deaths. There are a lot of Cat Killers out there. I mighta
been a Cat Killer but I met the Good Witch. I’m not listening to the cats though, I’m listening to Lindsey.
“Jimi, I just don’t feel that good about myself right now. It isn’t you. I don’t know… I guess I feel kind of dirty or something.”
Yeah, I know that feeling… I’ve had it for a coupla years. It
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