How To Turn a Man Into a Lollipop!

He stood there in the sun, nothing on but long red swim trunks.

I said, “Nice body!  I want to lick those man-boobs!”

His girlfriend calls out, “Hey… that’s my boyfriend!”

I tell her, “I won’t do anything!  I like looking at LOTS of pretty men and women!”

It’s summertime.  Yesterday, I saw a young black (African-American) girl

bouncing down the street, her tits swinging

peeping over her top; I called out “Hey!  I wanna squeeze MY boobs and pet the kitty!  And think of you!”  Not appropriate, I know.

But it’s been so long since I had sex.  Or made love.  Or fucked!  I’m an erotic writer and artist.

The other day, I made love to the air at a Spanish music festival

the Latinos noticed, “called out, “Hey!  Come over here!  Get some free food!”

I said, “No, thanks!  Not hungry!  This is the only sex life I allow myself!”

Something about Latin music with all those drums that makes my hips sway

as if a naked lover were beneath, marrying our belly buttons

Bono face-sits, where my pussy meets his smiling Irish eyes and mouth

And Craig Chacquico domination fantasies, where Craig is my new “owner”

stuff no one in mainstream society is supposed to talk about, but everybody’s got the same nasty things on their mind

and I am one of the “sex is sacred” crowd.

So many boners waiting to happen!

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