Kevin was gorgeous. A redhead like me, he was tall and lean - a bearded mountain hiking outdoorsman who was a pisser on the drum set. I, being the bass player (another band) naturally grew very close to him. We met at a jam session, and ended up talking the night away, just the two of us. He told me many of his deepest darkest secrets...
As time moved on we became closer and closer. He used to intentionally tease me by standing so very close to me that I could often feel his body heat after a drum workout... I never complained. I touched him once, when he was so close to me I could smell his manly muskiness. It was an instant hard-on for both of us. He used to wear knee-high moccasins with his skin-tight jeans tucked inside. So very sexy... and "pressed meat". (LOL) 
I pretended not to notice how big that cock was (about 2 inches from my face, and monstrous in those tight jeans - throbbing) and kept plucking away at my bass notes. He grabbed me by the back of my head and buried my face in his glorious crotch and said, "You know you want me. Well, I have news for you... I want you too." Thank god the rest of the band wasn't there - or our girlfriends for that matter - at the time. We were rehearsing a new song progression that I was working out the timing to. Kevin wanted a bit more of a workout...
Anyway, the above image was a design request of his for a tattoo. I tried to give the horse's face a likeness of him, and the moon was his girlfriend at the time. It was easy to do. He reminded me of a horse, so big and graceful. He was beautiful. I added wings and the 'uni-horn' to remind me he was a devilish red headed angel with a temperament to match...
Needless to say, he never got the tattoo - and split up with the girlfriend about a week after our first 'encounter'. We'd done a few mountain treks on the trails together around here (Bake Oven Knob was appropriately named) - and every time it was passionate and rough when we were alone. (just how I've learned to love it.)
He always wanted to have sex with my girlfriend and me (any excuse), and he did weasel his way into bed with us a few times - always making sure he took care of me; but I had to be careful to try not to be alone with him - he was so intense.
He did catch me alone a few more times before the band split up, and just before I moved back to CT. Damn he was so fucking HOT.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Confessions Of A Bass Player
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
The Meme Is Such A Wonderful Theme
It seems to be all around...
From: URS, Tigeryogiji and City Woof
I simply couldn't resist:
What is in the back seat of your car right now?
No backseat (I took it out of the old '95 Bronco) but here's some of what's back there: two tires, 10 old Playboys (I read them for the articles - sure I do - even though my partner gets pissed-off and hides them whenever he can), tons of empty cigarette packs, car jack & crowbars, my trusty knife set, all kinds of tools...
When was the last time you threw up?
Made myself puke 2 weeks ago so I wouldn't get food poisoning when I ate some bad lunch meat (I knew it was bad when the dog wouldn't eat the piece I threw to him)
What’s your favorite curse word?
Motherfucker, Fucker, all the Fuck words...
Name 3 people who made you smile today?
Sorrow, my Sister and, ahhh.... still waiting... It's 2:30pm now...
What were you doing at 8 a.m. this morning?
Taking Butch to the dentist.
What were you doing 30 minutes ago?
Watching CNN.
Where were you born?
Bethlehem, and no - not in the stable under a star. The one in PA.
Have you ever been to a strip club?
Used to tend bar in one... (1976 - 1981) Believe me, there are tons of tales about this.
What is the last thing you said aloud?
Fuck.
What is the best ice cream flavor?
Cotton Candy.
What was the last thing you had to drink?
Coffee.
What are you wearing right now?
Tight 501's and a velvety fleece. (Commando)
What was the last thing you ate?
A Turkey & Cheese Sandwich.
Have you bought any new clothes this week?
Not for me, but I got some "gay lingerie" for my two guys... from Undergear.
Where were you last?
In the basement.
What’s the last sporting event you watched?
1981 Super Bowl (XV)
Who won?
Oakland (hehe)
Who is the last person you sent a comment/message while blogging?
Buff
Ever go camping?
Hell yeah. Lots of camping when we were kids.
Used to follow the Grateful Dead and camp out...
I'd be camping out now if I could.
Appalachian Trail is 2 miles from here...
Where do you live?
Very near the Pocono Mountains.
What song are you listening to?
Bang - "Bow To The King"
Do you tan?
Fuck no... I get red as a lobster.
Do you drink your soda from a straw?
Fuck no. Soda???
What did your last text message say?
Who's got money for that type of luxury?
Who’s your best friends?
Butch, Fucker, K-B, Lur and Sister Sorrow (smiles)
What are you doing tomorrow?
Looking for a fucking job.
Where is your mom right now?
Dead.
Look to your right, what do you see?
A candle burning for Sorrow.
What color is your watch?
What watch?
What do you think of when you think of where you live?
Mountains, hiking, old stone houses, trees.
Ever ridden on a roller coaster?
yes, every fucking Day.
What is your birthstone?
Diamond. I'm not cheap, but I sure am easy...
Do you go in at a fast-food place or just hit the drive through?
Inside.
What is your favorite number?
Pi. (it never ends)
Do you have a dog?
Watching one right now. He thinks he's mine... Does that count?
Last person you talked to on the phone?
Fucker.
Have you met anyone famous?
Jane Fonda (I was 17)... a few more since then...
Any plans today?
yes.
How many states have you lived in?
If you count confusion as a state, 5.
Ever go to college?
yes.
Where are you right now?
Upstairs. In the Library with a candlestick.
Biggest annoyance in your life right now?
BU$HCO.
Are you struggling to forgive someone right now?
Struggling?.... NO.
Are you allergic to anything?
Yes.
Favorite pair of shoes?
My Lesbian Sandals ...er... Birkenstocks. I used to love my Earth Boots, but they got left behind in one of the many moves.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Jigsawed Life
How do you fit into the scheme of things?
For me, always on the outside looking in, I just don't. Never have, probably never will... In High School, I was always that loner kid - spending all my free periods in the Art Room. Never in a clique of friends, I always took pride in that. (of course we moved around a lot, so friends were a luxury I could never afford).
But it's lonely. Even now I still long for acceptance, but I know that will never happen. My views being too far out from most people's accepted norms and mores, I guess... I'd love to find just one person that I could relate to en toto.
The last piece of the puzzle that's missing after all the rest are assembled.
It's a bitch looking for that piece, isn't it?
The above portrait sketch of me was done by William Schmidt, a fellow hitch-hiker I met on the road in 1977. I used to hitch-hike a lot when I was younger. That's mainly how I made friends back in those days. Went one time cross-country to California with two other guys (never made it there - and that's another story... turned back in Cheyenne). Anyway, "Schmitty" & I had gone off the road - down a set of railroad tracks, to set up a camp of sorts for the night (I had the only sleeping bag...) - and I happened (as always) to have my sketch pad with me.
Schmitty kept saying how much he loved to watch my face while I was drawing, so I half kiddingly dared him to draw me. He took me up on the dare and drew me by firelight... scary, isn't it?
I was working on this drawing at the time:
I intentionally blurred the message...
Schmitty & I never saw each other again after that next morning... He went North. I was Southbound.
If only we had cell phones back in those days.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Emotion Disclaimer
I do believe that I've pissed off a few friends and relations this week, without that intention. Why? I haven't a clue... Maybe it was in the stars. I'm sorry - but I can't change things that have happened to me in the past. I can only take from the negative and move it in a positive direction.
Truths can be strange and wonderfully uplifting or an ugly burdensome chain that can drag us down to that level of unrecognizable horror. If you decide to lay out the events that changed your life for others to see, be aware that you might lose everything that you've worked so hard to accomplish. It's all up to you in the end...
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
In Vino Veritas
*********************************
Barkeep, Just Leave The Fucking Bottle... 76 - 77 was a good year.
Rediscovering the old again is hard for me. It brings its ancient wounds along with its lessons learned in youth. I once had a burning passion for the craft. I would take my tools with me everywhere I went in a backpack. They were always handy whenever I had the call to use them. Damn everything else, if an idea came - I'd ride it out. It could hit me at any given moment. Wish I still had that boundless enthusiasm...
I can remember sitting on the curb under a streetlight at midnight, drawing in my trusty sketchpad - glass of wine on the sidewalk - while all my friends were inside Barr's Place or Jersey House drinking and living it up and feeding the jukebox - simply because I got an idea that needed to be put on paper. (or at least I thought so) My friends would laugh. I didn't care what anyone else thought. Driven...
I'd sometimes lose myself for hours on end with nothing but a pencil scratching the paper before me. The vibes are still here, I feel them bubbling away deep inside. I think they are pissed off at me for neglecting them for so many years. Maybe they'll resurface again.
I've lost so many projects over the years, some given - some sold - some destroyed forever... so I cling on to what is left - like an ivy to the brick - in hopes of completing a bridge from the past into the future - which will be the now when it's all said & done. The circle... (or something like that)
Inside the belvedere at "The Arboritum"
[@Temple] I sat - looking up to read:
I have to admit - finding all these old sketches brought the memories flooding back - good & bad - things I hadn't thought about in a very long time. Like a fucking tidal wave of emotion for me.
I could write a fucking book, but what is the use if no one will ever read? Kind of like these drawings shoved away, hidden... Maybe I should have left them there, but to me they are like old pages from a journal in hieroglyphs. Battered friends that return after a secret sojourn to tell you of their travails. These images all mean something - to me at least.
...and so, I'll develop some into paintings - along with other new ideas for this new year... Picking and choosing will be the tempest.
*********************************
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Fantasy / Reality ... फंतासी / रियलिटी
==========================
It seems so long ago - almost like a dream.
Like a different Lifetime ago...
Here's another sketch done in Allentown when I lived on 6th Street. The prostitutes used to stand on my front porch. I had them in for tea or hot chocolate a few times on the cold nights. Don't think the Pimps or Police ever knew about that. LOL...
The girls were always very good to me, and I thought it was great to come home to a pleasant hello and hug. (Sometimes more) They were always welcome to stand on my porch out of the elements (I lived alone on the second floor, and 4 of my friends lived upstairs on the third)... Down the street was the old fire-bombed out bar "The Caboose" where some people had lost their lives a few years earlier due to some ridiculous argument. That whole neighborhood is gone now - made way for parking downtown.
When I lived in that apartment, I came home one night and found a naked man passed out in my bathtub. I couldn't revive him and there was some blood smeared around the tub. Frantic, I ran upstairs where there was always a 24-7 party going on. (I had no phone) They told me Tommy was sleeping it off. I went back downstairs only to find, that he was sitting on my bed in the buff and fully erect - waiting for me... I tended his wounds. He cleaned up nicely. I wasn't alone that night either...
A truly horrible & unforgettable event from that time - happened next door. I never met my neighbor, I'd only been there about a month by then, but it seemed that she went away for three days and left her baby in the crib. Of course I didn't know that at the time, but I heard a dog constantly growling & barking, and when the Police came around they found that the starving German Shepherd had mauled and half-eaten the baby ... it was very sad. He was only 7 months old. Not even a chance at life. You could probably note the sparrow near the center of this drawing with a 'point seven tag'. That's the reason. I never told that story before.
==========================
Below is another example of the automatic neo-polypsychedlic type drawing from this period. This drawing "Eat In" another study for a painting, was done above a popular Quakertown Restaurant at the time. We had our own little resident artists & musicians group going on up there, and would practice with the band after service hours.
During the day a few of us had jobs downstairs. At night sometimes we'd sneak down there for a drink or some ice cream in the wee hours of the morning. We would figure out some song progressions on the house piano that was in the great hall. Sometimes I'd even get in a jump start on some prep work for the next day. [polishing silverware, or cracking open lobster tails etc...]
I usually had the responsibility of recording everything in the studio until we happened on a friend (we called him "Country") that used to do sound for the keyboard player of Blue Öyster Cult - that's when we had an awesome sound for an amateur band... Ahh those were the days. Always something creative in the mist. I learned much about recording sound from him. I had a bad thing for his girlfriend Kat. She was a sexy little DeadHead who was always flirting. They tried to get me into a threesome once, but Country never really turned me on that way. Believe me, I've had my share of threeways though... never gender relevant, and never initiated by me...
We had a great time until our lead singer was arrested for murder sometime in early 1978, which really happened to be a 'self-defense drug situation' that the judge saw in a different light. He's still in jail to this day serving Life without Parole. Fucking Lawyers & Judges. We all still miss you C-D, and we all kind of lost the heart to go on playing as a band without you. K-B and I get together for "jam sessions" still. We've been writing original material for over 30 years now... and K-B still corresponds with C-D.
I had this thing for T-P, who was the keyboard and percussion genius of the band, but he disappeared sometime in late 1978 for years. He was K-B's Brother, and disowned his whole family (there were 10 kids in that family if memory serves). He showed up years later for K-B's ill-fated Wedding, to act as Best Man - then disappeared again for 10 more years. Finally saw him again 2 years ago, but the magic was gone. He still looked good though. I often wonder if that little band couldn't have been something great.
During practice sometimes I'd drift off to the corner and sketch. The above study is from one of those times.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Exploring New Realms
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm practically dying to find out more about the KRINK products, but it seems that there is no one I can find to discuss them with me... I've tried calling stores here on the East Coast to no avail. Art Stores have no clue. I just get a resounding "Huh???" on the fucking telephone. I suppose graffiti art is still not accepted into the 'sacred art circle'...
Truthfully though, one guy from Dick Blick that I talked with on the phone was so interested we ended up talking for about 20 minutes... He actually went online to look up the product for me. Maybe I've hit on something.
I think graffiti is even more relevant today than it was in the early days when I was a bit of a train car / subway / new & old construction scribbler. I'd spray paint my icons under cover of the night, sometimes involving a ritual or two before & after. What a Fucking little Vandal I was...
Found this place in NYC near the Village, and I suppose I'll have to go up there to actually see the product and find out if 'my vision' of what can be done with it will fit into my plans for the canvasses I'm contemplating. Oh well... a trip to New York seems to be in order for me. Maybe I'll hit the Museums and visit Fucker while I'm up there. Crosstown to Brooklyn.... not too far. I'd love to sit in on an episode of Conan O'Brien, but I wouldn't ever contemplate crossing a Writer's Picket Line to satisfy my own curiosities.
It's been quite a few years since I made the NYC scene. I suppose much change has happened since 9-11-01. Haven't actually walked the streets in the Village since the mid-eighties, (Gay Pride Parade 1985) and I suppose it's about time.
I actually lived in the Village in 1967 with some friends for 3 months - when the Twin Towers were still in the construction stages, it sure would be a hoot to go back and visit the old homestead - now that I'm over all that old major shit that happened to me back in the day... It was pretty devastating at the time. It's surprising that I'm still here to talk about it. You know what they say:
"Whatever doesn't Kill You..."
I'm ready after 40 years ...and to think it's all because of a new medium that I'd love to explore. This actually blows my fucking mind.
Creative Sparks Akimbo... awaiting my next move.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
More Projects For The New Year
............................................
This first drawing was done looking from my window on the second floor at the American Hotel where I lived upstairs and tended bar downstairs at the time; on July 4th, 1976. This was one of three drawings I did that day to celebrate the Bicentennial of America. All originally done in blue ball-point pen and red india dragonsblood carmine on bleached hemp sketch paper. 
The wench I lived with at the time was continually running me ragged, and sketching was my means of escape. Between the dancing girls & serving rowdy biker patrons downstairs - and the bitch I lived with upstairs, there was always a constant battle going on. Patricia was a lunatic needle-scratching drug addict, and it was all I could do to keep my eye on her. Many of the dancers were in the same boat as Pat, and I was always being accused of getting blow-jobs in the Ladies Room - but everyone knew that all the best drugs were to be found in there.
Patricia was a gorgeous blond - what a waste. We met hitch hiking, the sex was white-hot (she was built like a brick shit-house) and I thought it was kismet - until I really got to know her. Her temper & labia were constantly flaring. I'm so glad those days are over... I don't know how I ever survived all that bullshit.
Don't ever think you might handle being "involved" with a junkie - that you might help change anyone in that particular lifestyle's perspective on life... It is a deathwish. Get the hell out of Dodge while you still have some semblance of sanity. In a 'Love vs Drugs' scenario, Drugs will win out 99% of the time. Those aren't very good odds. That person has to want to change. Then there is Hope.
There's a great big fat story that goes along with all of this, but I promised not to bore my readers.
(if there are any out there - LOL)
............................................
This next drawing is mixed media and was done to remember Bob Marley. When I heard the news of his death, I was deeply saddened, and this was my way of paying a bit of tribute to him:
I still miss Bob, and will always have great respect and affinity for the message he so proudly brought us through his music.
He died on May 11, 1981 - and this drawing was completed the next day.
"Reggae Apocalypso" (1981)
Here are the true colors:
Monday, December 31, 2007
New Year Drawing 1977
30 Years of wasted time???
or just life happening at super warp speed...
This drawing was done after midnight at the beginning of a new year 31 years ago. "Rediscovered" again after looking through the box of attic things from my Grandmother's house... there are many more, but we have to start somewhere - looking for the hidden imagery in everyday life...
"Imaginary Lovers" (1977)
I was trying to make a new start after a life of unfortunate decisions, and had moved back to Connecticut for another short time... Gypsy that I was, sex & spirituality was an open book. (much like now)
These times were full of Sex Drugs and Rock & Roll Soul for me...
I've never attempted the painting, but I think it's time may have just arrived.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Happy New Year, Fucker
Feliz Año Nuevo Compadre
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Hairy Christmas
...All in all, a truly strange holiday for me.
Fighting interspersed with comedy, tender moments and passion - what a strange rollercoaster of a holiday.
Fighting with me all the way to the party (about an hour's ride), my guy made it plain that there were to be no Christmas Goodies for me this year. Horny as I was, I sobbed silently and bucked up, accepting the fact that it would be a sexless holiday season for me... all I did was think about You, Fucker. I wish I was with YOU NOW...
I guess I was a naughty boy this year Santa, but I tried to be good... That's probably why I didn't get anything for Christmas, why... I even had to buy my own damned coal.
On to the Christmas Eve party - where one of the hosts asked me to help him hook up his DVD player (he actually wanted me to hook up something else for him, but me... being the proverbial nice guy: I really thought that he wanted to watch his new movies) it turned into a bit of a half naked wrestling match between us in his bedroom - our partners downstairs with not a clue... I guess he made it plain that he wanted me secretly.
Every time he brushed past me his hands were on some part of me feeling me up - the other party patrons seemingly unaware - and when he was across the room, that seductive look and leering eyes on me - winking.
He got close and whispered, "Damn you smell good." I laughed. I thought he was just flirting. I should have known.
I leaned over to take a look at the wiring for the DVD player and TV when he threw me down on his bed before I knew what was happening, and had me pantless like a pro. (I wear tight 501 jeans, and if you know how to do them right, well let's just say that there is hardly a wait to be totally in the buff.) He told me he hadn't had sex with his partner in 3 years as he ravaged me ravenously. I still have the marks.
I tried to protest, but it was just so damned unexpected - It's hard to move with your pants tight around your ankles - between the sucking and licking, I finally regained my composure before anything really serious happened and after I talked some sense into him.
We rejoined the party, me a bit flushed, none the worse for wear and no one else the wiser... but he - still with that lecherous look. A bit scary, but all in all kind of flattering, given the circumstances.
It should be interesting this weekend for the New Year's Eve party, anyway... (it's at the same place) I'll be on guard. (and wearing a belt this time)
Went to see my Step-Mom in the morning, and my Brother & his Family were there. It was good. Butch & I had coffee, exchanged presents and then we excused ourselves to go to the hospital to visit his Mom.
Being low on funds this year, I offered to do her nails and give her a facial. I remember my Mom used to love that when she was in hospital, so I offered. I forgot to bring cotton balls with me, so I asked one of the nurses for some gauze. She was totally supportive of the idea, and so enthusiastic that she had gathered a gaggle of her co-workers to watch the fuzzy bearded Hippy give the Mother-In-Law a much needed Christmas nail treatment. Much laughter ensued. We never got to the facial, so I promised to do that the next visit. She's in for surgery tomorrow, which hopefully will go without unforeseen incident, and I'll go ahead and do the facial this weekend. That should be a hoot!...
When we got home, I made some hot chocolate, tended the fire, took the dog for a walk and then settled back in the chair to watch The Pirates. Then, later last evening I was kidnapped... and made to walk the plank.
I hope everyone's Holidays are bright.
Happy Kwanzaa.
Happy Boxing Day.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
Alban Arthuan
Farewell, Darkness, you've served us well
You've brought peace and calmness with your spell
You've helped us regroup and regenerate, too
And for those reasons we honor you
The time has come, though, to say goodbye
Farewell, Darkness! Go now! Fly!
- Dorothy Morrison
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Nervous Shakti शक्ति
in 2 parts...
My New Year's resolution for 1983-84 was to do paintings of some of the sketches I had drawn over the years. I had been thinking about it for many moons - then a very negative incident finally compelled me to move forward with the project...
Friday December 23, 1983 near midnight:
Walking home 7 miles in 5 inches of snow after a 10 hour shift at the restaurant, I saw her car parked on the street... I opened the front door of the house - kicked off my boots - opened the fridge got a beer and walked into the bedroom only to find my then girlfriend in my bed with another guy. She was supposed to have picked me up from work. I couldn't reach her on the phone, and I was worried that something had happened. Well, indeed that was confirmed... although it was not what I had expected.
I didn't say a word. I closed the door, finished my beer in one huge gulp - put my boots back on, amidst the din of their voices and walked another shivering mile downtown to Sherman Avenue and my best friend's house where I proceeded to break down uncontrollably. He tried with little success to console me. I sat outside in the snow for what seemed to be hours. I just didn't care. He finally convinced me to come in for Hot Chocolate and a 'nipper' of Christian Brothers.
It was now Saturday December 24, 1983 - Christmas Eve...
I went back to my house later that day and collected my clothing and art supplies (above sketch was among them) and I vowed to do paintings of all the sketches I had earmarked. This was now my New Year's Resolution for 1984. Making positives from the negative.
Alfons told me I could stay as long as I liked. His room mate was moving out at the start of the new year - and since the 'Snow Queen' was already staying with her new boyfriend - the space was mine - no worries about the rent, we'd figure that all out later. 
Having lived across the hall from me in the dorm years back - and later in my apartment (1972 - 74) he was used to my artsy disarray, so I was free to set up camp. He would frequently model that sexy swimmer/dancer body of his for me. Whenever there was an art class I could catch with him as the model, I was there. I even slept in his bed with him then and many times throughout the years. We had a long history together as best friends in college, and now that I had recently moved back to the area, it was like there was never the space in time that passed us by. New Haven would Rock once again for us.
We were always very close in spirit and had done almost everything together - eat, sleep, shower, play, dance - you name it - but never sex with each other. We had watched as one or both of us performed, but I think we were too afraid to fuck up that awesome friendship we had going. If two people could ever have been more platonic, I should like to see that example. Alfons had a copy of Rudyard Kipling's "The Thousandth Man" scribed up by hand for me as a Christmas Present in 1974. I have never received a present that meant more than that one...
Years later I would find out that he would have loved me as much as I loved him - if we had pursued that course - in every way... of course by then it was too late. Funny how that goes. Timing was never right. I never knew he took an older married fellow as his lover back in the day - we were sophomores, when he was staying with me at my apartment on Whalley Avenue - and I always had a girlfriend it seemed. Ahh... the 'hipness' of being Hippies - Sex Drugs and Rock & Roll Soul. At any rate, we had many a grand adventure throughout our blessed years together, and we were always there for each other even across all the miles that tried to sunder like-minded souls.
[acrylic on canvas]
This 'holiday occasion' as we referred to it, would be the second time in our 25 year history that he would save my life, the first being another story... His last words ever to me were,
"See You In the Sunset, Bro."
When he left this Earth 10 years later - a victim of the cursed AIDS plague, it seemed that the Sun & Moon darkened somehow for me, hiding the beauty and colors - I wouldn't pick up a paintbrush for years afterward.
Then I saw Him one night Dancing in the Stars. I remembered his last words to me. The next day I stroked the canvas with colors again in his honor...
I'll always Love You, Fonso.
Forever.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FUCKER
You've reached that 'fine wine' age, and you're still as Fucking Gorgeous as ever... even more so to me. All because when I look in your eyes, I see that beautiful soul inside. You are the Hottest Motherfucker I know. Sorry, I guess I'm prejudiced, grey gotee and all.
So, You're the BIG Five - Oh................
Never fear, You're still the Sexiest Fucker I know. AARP ain't got nothin' on You. Wish I could be with You to Celebrate Your Big Day, but please know that I'm with You in Spirit, You Gorgeous Fucker, you.... Oh the things I'd do to make you feel that sweet pain and ecstasy. Just to hear you moaning and purring with delight would be my reward.
Soon Fucker... soon...
