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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Biography / Autobiography
- Published: 02/18/2013
A MILKY WAY STAR - A YOUNG MAN'S STORY
M, from Baltimore, Maryland, United StatesA MILKY WAY STAR - A YOUNG MAN'S STORY
Were we for real...or just pretending to look for action...Teddy and me...at an uptown auction...a couple of sore thumb wasted blokes...in frayed T-shirts...sloppy sneakers...and worn out jeans.
We found and sat...on a flower patterned sofa...tagged and sold...from where we comfortably scouted and made off-color comments...about the snobby upscale tribe of paleskins with fake faces...putting on the Ritz...well groomed and wandering while wrapped in their show off jewelry...Hollywood shades...designer watches...Italian boots...and diamond pinkies...the jaded elite...depending on supposedly dumb waiters...on the verge of the festive...yet playing it somber...what with the Champagne rather flat...and the finger food feeling sadly soggy...and just not enough ashtrays...the holy mini shrines...to the bored and the rich...prospecting...scrutinizing...pondering and handling...before bidding...on pilgrims' trinkets and widows' wares.
And we'd seen enough of this shit...and besides we were hungry as all get out...ready to split...when we were struck senseless...by the juicy vision of a trophy wife...seductive in her tiny skirt...accentuating thighs to die for...crowning calves of glory...sprouting from stiletto pumps...she was like a rollercoaster for the eyes...thrills and spills each time...she'd crouch...stoop...or bend.
I turned to Teddy passionately sermonizing over what I lusted to do with her body...I mean her legs ranked among the eight wonders of the world...her face a serenade more lovely than a spring blossom...hot damn...she was as beautiful and as remote as a Milky Way star...not offering as much as a nod or glancing time of the day...to a couple of drooling craven punks...unable to request permission to board and sail...for the storied glories of her paradise island.
Like lit matches on petrol my lascivious words were whipping Teddy into the fires of desire...the crotch of his pants was rising like a tent...till he could bear no more...and told me to shut the f**k up...before he stood up and tripped over his phallic tower and pole vaulted out of this hagglers' haute couture hall.
by L DOUGLAS ST OURS
April 2011
A MILKY WAY STAR - A YOUNG MAN'S STORY(L DOUGLAS ST OURS)
A MILKY WAY STAR - A YOUNG MAN'S STORY
Were we for real...or just pretending to look for action...Teddy and me...at an uptown auction...a couple of sore thumb wasted blokes...in frayed T-shirts...sloppy sneakers...and worn out jeans.
We found and sat...on a flower patterned sofa...tagged and sold...from where we comfortably scouted and made off-color comments...about the snobby upscale tribe of paleskins with fake faces...putting on the Ritz...well groomed and wandering while wrapped in their show off jewelry...Hollywood shades...designer watches...Italian boots...and diamond pinkies...the jaded elite...depending on supposedly dumb waiters...on the verge of the festive...yet playing it somber...what with the Champagne rather flat...and the finger food feeling sadly soggy...and just not enough ashtrays...the holy mini shrines...to the bored and the rich...prospecting...scrutinizing...pondering and handling...before bidding...on pilgrims' trinkets and widows' wares.
And we'd seen enough of this shit...and besides we were hungry as all get out...ready to split...when we were struck senseless...by the juicy vision of a trophy wife...seductive in her tiny skirt...accentuating thighs to die for...crowning calves of glory...sprouting from stiletto pumps...she was like a rollercoaster for the eyes...thrills and spills each time...she'd crouch...stoop...or bend.
I turned to Teddy passionately sermonizing over what I lusted to do with her body...I mean her legs ranked among the eight wonders of the world...her face a serenade more lovely than a spring blossom...hot damn...she was as beautiful and as remote as a Milky Way star...not offering as much as a nod or glancing time of the day...to a couple of drooling craven punks...unable to request permission to board and sail...for the storied glories of her paradise island.
Like lit matches on petrol my lascivious words were whipping Teddy into the fires of desire...the crotch of his pants was rising like a tent...till he could bear no more...and told me to shut the f**k up...before he stood up and tripped over his phallic tower and pole vaulted out of this hagglers' haute couture hall.
by L DOUGLAS ST OURS
April 2011
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