So you know what I'm saying when I say that one of the great feelings in the world is in your cunt the next day 'cause you been fucked like crazy by some guy and the full on satisfaction of knowing you're not gonna have to deal with his set of hang-ups again?

Not to say I don't have mine,I mean, get a clue, who doesn't but still,

I got mine and that's plenty,

and for the time it takes to get fucked good and plenty, I'll put up with the old quirk factor, and leave my high heels on or what ever, just so I can feel like I got a decent meal once and a while.

I mean, that's what it's like, I was in high school, or no, it had to be more like junior high and I'd walk all around the house and into the kitchen and open all the cupboards and stare into the refrigerator but nothing looked good, and you know I wasn't hungry, I needed to screw something, and it wasn't until I started masturbating that I knew I should have been looking in the produce bin, if you know what I'm talking about and I think that you do.

So here's the deal, I was needing a dick, because there's a point where all the power tools in the world aren't gonna help you, you gotta have some actual meat,

and I'll be like, to my best girlfriend, we gotta go hunting.

She's like, oh man, you're in one of those moods?

Which is okay for her, she's got a boyfriend, but there is an honor between thieves, so she comes over and we get all dolled up, which is half the fun, it's total ritual, picking about three or four outfits and asking each other about them and loaning shit to each other, and getting drunk while putting on make up, you can have a rum and coke in one hand and mascara in the other, as long as nothing spills or you give yourself dark shadows.

And let me tell you, I looked sweet, or rather not too damn sweet, it is a wicked thing that I had painted myself into, and my girlygirl is going damn, you're not,

but I am, darling doll,

I am.

I just have to, because I am not messing around here.

Into the night we go. It is quite the one, all quiet, a clean, a black porcelain night, and we sit happy on the curb waiting for the taxi, sharing a flask of jack, which is her drink of choice, but I'm starting to think about southern, you know, the way it is so very around your tongue, and burning easy, and it is spring with hay fever in the air so maybe I want to distill that old thing and that's why I want comfort but for now, jack.

And we are whisked, like we should be in any decent fairy tale, and he was, a big one, and we sang brick house together on the way to the club.

You know it is pitch in there, so even your eyes from night have to get adjusted.

As soon as I can make out the stamp on my hand I am in the john adjusting the goods and checking out the competition, and the girlygirl, says no sweating it, Flinn, and I figure she is dead on, so we cruise the bar to get set up, and then lean back, beverage in hand to looksee.

Oh bliss, bliss, you can't but love buffet, maybe it's good, maybe it's shit, but you know it is all you can eat, and that ain't half.

My girl is restless, she doesn't have even half her mind on he who is at home, 'cause there are some instincts that run true in a real hunter. And girl has got her arm round me, she is so aching, I can see how her nips are watching the boys go by, I'm nigh on wet with her wetness.

It's a pretty parade, I mean what do you want, I'm a kid on a candy store with just one nickel. Surf, and bike, and goth, and vamp. Looking for Mrs. Robinson and looking for Miss right, and looking for Ms Goodbar, and looking a little too hard. Tall and trying not to be and short and trying not to be you got to love them for what they think they're not,

that little ache in them will put them right between your thighs.

And the devils, I love devils.

Devils all have their calling card, I am very beautiful, and I am very sexy, and I am very rich, and best of all, if you can smell it as it walks up the stairs and walks around the corner and blinks in the light of the upstairs bar, as it leans on the rail to look down on the dance floor, I can make you cry when you come.

Tag team, I ask my girlygirl, and girly says no, no, can't do, don't dare, and I say suit and that is the end, and she'll be waking him up when she gets home, but I give a, gotta go, gotta get some of that. And I'm looking for that square bulge that'll make it so easy, and sure enough, so I can just say, can I bum a cig, and he will,

and he will

and he pulls it free,

and I slide it between,

and he must light it,

and I take the slowest longest drag

so he knows just how long I've wanted it

and just how happy I am to get it,

then I just stare at him and smile.

It is a blinkedy blink with the compression that comes from a dozen stiff drinks, I am at mine, which is usual where I do prefer, on account of the whole control, and there is no preamble, there is no loving cup, there will be no looking at books or CD's because I am

laid out arm's Christ

on the bed with his hot at my throat and I am so,

the yellow taxi hardly gone from my eyes.

I am starving.

The pinking of my lips and tongue comfort from his, I am, I am,

I want those bruises on my wrists, I want them from your hips,

his rough is my making soft.

He splits me open eats fig, clothes, and skin, to be chewed and I am peeling as fast I can manage,

need to know,

have to see,

want to put in my mouth to,

and he presses me down again, spreading me, and sliding into,

lifting me by mine like the handle of a suitcase.

His sticky fingers go into the tops of my stockings and slide them off and around my wrists, and that is it.

Bound.

Eyes, he says, and black, and I strain as I feel jade lashes on my nipples, and the reapproachment, wet and speaking secrets into my half a child house.

Please please please please.

Don't you know, he knows and I am split.

Here comes the heartbeat relocated.

I am fed. Eyes he says, and I see the dissolve, he melts into me, shatters all over me, sweats and oozes and says he has killed me.

I must close, and be closed for a long time.

I can see light through my eyelids,

think of the difference between red and black,

and so, he is watching me when I flutter to, he says, I was there, I want to stay.

I struggle then, and he strokes saltcheeks and I cannot stop I am so fed, I am overfull, I am flowing out the cunt and eyes, he says, keep, and curls.

And here I am lying with that that won't melt in sun.

Kept, and hunger and freedom are yellowed paper.