I need a jibber, a cooker and a cracker!
Still tasting the bitterness of cum, even a six-pack can't take away the sour smell persisting its way up my nostrils. I know for I've tried plentiful.
Why are they always grasping my ponytail, fixating my head when trusting forcefully forward, bursting their sperm way back in my throat, leaving me gagging and retching. Shit, now I've stained my shirt again.
Okay, OKAY, I want to swallow, you know that, don't you? Not because your vitamin rejuvenates me, but, because I have but this blouse left, you cheap son of a bitch.
"Oh, that tasted so good!" Happy clients come back, I think, my pimp already dialed the dealers number, now cashing in on our deal.
Leaving him, pants down to the ankles, knickers nowhere to be found, senses giddy swimming to life surface, wondering where the hell the whore went. Confused, handing out a few green ones.
"A jibber, a cooker and a cracker," Staff in the shelter, loathing, acting out of wont, serving for ones.
Shit, you motherfucker, stop staring at me. You have no clue, being touched by half the family to be liked, running away, picked up, having only one survival skill, earning plentiful, finding a numbing feeling solution, euphoria producing transfer. A cheap, easy, practical, worldly deal with the devil. Sooo? YO MOFO, STOP JUDGING ME!
I'm already sailing, the sweet waves of blissfulness, uniting zen experiences with god-forbidden sins. I'm four again, christmas, vigorous hitting the pink bike pedals and I'm four again, easter, ravishing pulling the dinghies paddles, in an intertwining, all transcending susceptibilities, surpassing, over-topping and out-topping if just for a minute.
My statute posture, giving away, my cravings now fulfilled hunkering. Going unnoticed for the pimp, nervously pulling the needle out of my pussies, all to often used vein, popping the needle in his own left shinbone, joining me on the journey.
For his marking are two swollen blue legs, for my marking are one messed up cunt.