last night, MB, I was down on her for 3 hours. her cunt is huge, it covered my whole face. she turned over after coming every fifth or sixth time and I got to turn with her, burying my face in her cunt. it was fun. I told her I liked that and she said nothing. I looked for a Bukowski poem about how Buk worked in a slaughterhouse and came home stinking of butchered cows blood. I wanted to suggest to her that the taste of her cunt on my breath (which has lasted these 24 hours and I hope will last another 48) was not unlike the scent of butchered cattle blood on Bukowski's jacket. before I could find that poem MB's hands were back on my head, where I liked them to be.
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