Post by Fraser Allonby Q.C. on Oct 23, 2011 18:48:52 GMT
I met her on the beach,
my giant bride,
that rotting behemoth
with her rumpled decaying flesh,
black and leathery with rancid oil
foetid and oozing from her every pore.
I thought she was bejewelled and glorious.
But as I came closer to stand in awe
of the innumerable greedy green flies flitting round.
Her perfume drove me mad
and I licked her cracked lips against her will
and watched her dry eye watch me.
She lay there helpless,
a snot-clotted nostril crusted over
as I touched her one withered dug,
taking her chapped nippo
into my hungry hungry cakehole,
and slobbering away like a mongo
for the mother I never really had.
(she could be mine).
my giant bride,
that rotting behemoth
with her rumpled decaying flesh,
black and leathery with rancid oil
foetid and oozing from her every pore.
I thought she was bejewelled and glorious.
But as I came closer to stand in awe
of the innumerable greedy green flies flitting round.
Her perfume drove me mad
and I licked her cracked lips against her will
and watched her dry eye watch me.
She lay there helpless,
a snot-clotted nostril crusted over
as I touched her one withered dug,
taking her chapped nippo
into my hungry hungry cakehole,
and slobbering away like a mongo
for the mother I never really had.
(she could be mine).
