Barometer housing the market in this manse field of a whet dreamy world! - â„¢

If is an issue with you and you have similar interests let's chat. Hopefully this mail gets to you. a republican (reed Donald trump) conspiracy a foot as the most logical explanation why some electronic responses get caught up in the digital whirled wide web, which  technical difficulties find prospective liaisons go un answered, cuz they end up green eggs and spam.

    Any resemblance between these characters and living persons purely coincidental, yet some basis on fax usurped from this chap to spin out this wheely tread full tired and true discordant vignette.

     Prior to shifting gears to second (among the gritty streets of this urban area known as the city of angels), an automatic reflex found me to rev the engine full throttle in reverse (nearly jamming the gear shift in the process), and steer the wheel (of my old battered 1995 Subaru Legacy) while peering backward all the while toward a waif like woman advertising sex in this most dangerous, rundown gruesome alleyway in a Los Angeles ghetto.

     Amidst the ruins of derelict dilapidated tenements (strewn with the detritus of human flotsam), this aspiring writer stopped his car.

     You (who just barely whispered her name happened to be a street walker dressed in her scantily clad outfit) explained the reason such an abrupt decision took place to slam on the brakes.

     Upon opening the driver side door, she willingly entered and promptly dug her scythe lent fingernails (expressly unsheathed for aphrodisiac generating purposes) and dug deep into the flesh of my bony shoulder blades!

     No matter hustling (albeit as a first timer) with this receptive client, the popularity of her reputation triggered MOTORAZR phone she carried buzzed nonstop.

     I silently accepted, acquiesced such nail biting tearing of the flesh, expected eventual scarring without regret and felt no discernible pain from this reaction.

     An out of body experience found me observing how the sharp blood red nail polish matched the trickle of sans droplets doing a sort of corpuscular slalom down the ridges and ruffles of my well-toned upper back muscles before coagulating at the minor crest of a very minimal gluteus maximus.

     Before surrendering to any further compliance sans libidinal longing, a nonverbal signal (from yours truly) indicated sequestering ourselves in one of the numerous boarded up buildings.

     We clasped hands (as if we spent years as a happily married couple), and gingerly stepped over heaps of awful smelling rubbish toward the most inviting long vacant and condemned abode!

     Despite the posted “DO NOT ENTER” warning, we blithely and nonchalantly tiptoed hither and yon upon identifying the best pick of the shells once lofty habiliments.

     Enough daylight still existed to traipse upstairs and locate the most suitable space to exercise primal physical intercourse.

     Once we meandered into what appeared to be the master baiting sleeping chamber, an automatic and immediate animalistic urge goaded us to inch ever closer to each other.

     No matter the action seemed quite rap pay sh us lee ludicrous, the bedroom door got pushed closed and latched.

     Analogous to a cat getting satisfactorily rubbed, scratched and stroked, she (my current pelvic partner dejure and temporary synchronistic soul connection) purred, nibbled and licked upon receiving electrifying reciprocal stimulation upon various and sundry areas of that svelte luscious latitude of erotic enticement.

     This introductory forceful embrace allowed us to hold each other close and breathe in the fragrance of the other. 

     Teeth accidentally clacked and clicked (like the tappet brothers of car null talk hammering out a piston) against unfamiliar dentifrice while tongues created some playful spur of the moment cat and mouse chase game. 

     An excess of saliva spilled back and forth necessitating an intermittent breakaway similar to basketball players dribbling prior to the next ploy. 

     We then began simultaneously to tear wildly at getting first ourselves and then the other completely undressed.

     Upon one of these occasions, I took licentious liberty (perhaps with just a bare audible objection) to kiss brow, cheek and nape of neck of this pleasing prostitute.

     An especial glandular female aroma wafted my nostrils. 

     A spontaneous urge arose to nibble (and taste the salt from such fragrant pheromone laden flesh) and found this tongue (of mine) doing some data mining around upper arms and setting sights toward those engorged and ripe plump juicy breasts!

     The surface of my hands seemed colder and rougher against the silky smooth base of bosoms and sent a slight shiver down the fine hairs of Sally's star studded spine.

     Lips of mine gravitated toward swollen pulsating mammary glands.

     An infantile pang evoked an atavistic impulse per this older guy to suckle like a babe nursing ala much like those iconic Madonna and child images predominant in churches.

     Akin to a newborn, I applied a gentle suction upon first one than the other nipple and also began to describe circular motions atop those supposedly sensitive aureoles of each tricking ling teat.

     Optimism existed to draw out that coveted milky white substance that ranks on a par with the most sought after illegal contraband.

     Deep in the throes of aural, carnal, tactile, et cetera exploration, these ears detected approaching footsteps, which set fear running amuck in this anxiety prone literary fellow.

     This internal sensation of doom and gloom got ratcheted up manifold in tandem with an overwhelming panic attack upon discerning that infamous ring tone from the cell phone. 

     You reassured me that the soft patter of footwear upon the rubble heap just another wannabe starlet, who sought out some figurative rock of Gibraltar and aspired to win the accolades either of a casting director, or indie producer.

     The latter figured that my je nais sais quois flair with the english language (perchance such command of lingua franca accurately and amazingly gleaned from a recent personal posting) set in motion an intuitive sense that this guy noir could be (at a minimal) one stepping stone to that elusive sought after ticket to paradise.

     As time permitted, I quickly learned that both women labored as waitresses at the same (unmentionable) upscale restaurant and forged a sisterly bond that insinuated first one that the other to consider moonlighting as street walkers to further their ambition to fame and fortune.

     Although ensconced in the company of deux delicious darlings, a sudden diminution to pursue the antics of manage a trios seemed nada apropos and plus this contemplative, introspective, tentative fellow (of deux score plus fourteen years) considers sexual intercourse the most salient palliative best experienced with the privacy of one woman.

     Plus, the economic challenges (especially the loom threat of an impending economic cliff casting dark forbidding shadows as the world wide web turned along the edge of this errant knight) drew these young nymphs into (what they naively and innocently believed) earning hand over fist money immune to the depredations of venereal disease and/or the indefatigable energy requisite to relinquishing oneself to the indulgences of promiscuity.

     Although anthropological lineage can be traced with a rather jagged line from that hazy humid dog day afternoon, an ordinate amount of energy plus a preponderant exuberant expenditure of crusading conviction found pitched battles with battle axes and crucifixions following pomp and circumstances infusing the exploits with pomp and circumstances of the fighting machine.

     In essence, the effort to fight off this ole factory desire to succumb into the vortex of these verdant vestal virgins found me essentially footing to communicate a desire to bed down with both this lasses, who will eventually move out and not home.

     Difficult if not well nigh impossible to discern any traceable clue of such depraved motives in the rather cute and furrowed brow, heart and soul of this ape men, who considered these young women on a par with children that happened to be above average.

     This overactive imagination of mine was certainly putting more energy into the illusory corporeal alignments qua sexual relationships (within a hair’s breath away) than I had put into many other reel ones.

     In addition, I also gave you more attention that was by definition, indivisible, undivided, and relishing the safety of the distance between us by opting to be truthful instead of doling out the white lies that have become the crusty jean et tic staples of real life.

   Whew - that was easy as applying staples.

   from - - scott matthews holed up in his zip coded 19010 jalopy humbly apologizes for any blasphemy, calumny, defamatory effrontery, flagrancy, indecency, nasty racy tawdry villainous whiplashes against your person.