Lust in the Woods

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The next time you kiss a twat, give a thought to me. I just got through lapping a muff juicier than any you've ever laid eyes on, buddy.

Jealous? Don't think it was easy. I don't mean the lapping. I mean meeting up with it. I had to drag my ass clear across the country. And suffer and suffer before I got my lips planted on it. Was it worth all the trouble? You tell me, after you've heard the whole dirty story.

It began with a leak. Not plumbing.

If you hafta take a mean piss, believe me, you're better off in the city. Out in the sticks, a guy never knows what'll happen. Honest! Like, for example, the time I unloaded in Mercer County, Iowa.

I can hear you ask the question. “What was a sophisticated stud like you doing in Mercer County, Iowa?” That's a tale too long to put between covers. Besides, my Parole Board would raise its fucking eyebrows. So we'll omit details that tend to incriminate me. I'll describe only the legal tidbits. If fucking and sucking and hailing and reaming are illegal, I'm giving up my goddamned citizenship!

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