Bloody blow jobs and dead cells

ever been hit in the face with a cock, what a kicker!!!

nothing makes you feel more alive then giving head with your face all bloody and raw. Big boys know that real blow jobs hurt. If your not bleeding its not worth it. 

Use your blood as a lube, add some flare. 

Comes one bright red drys dirty brown. like a bloody crap.

take the time to stop and look at your self, see what a bloody slut would look like. Thats you. Thats your blood pouring out of your nose. Love it? I do.

What a rush.

I really gave this one my all.

Sex. not what I thought it would be. Got to say I don't hate it. I love that dirty slut look, but I wish I could get that movie fuck. all nice and slow with sting singing to movement of two men fucking... I mean making love... no I mean fucking.  Gay sex can never be making love, not with poop on your dick and blood on your face.

Midnight

 At the the age of 25 my mother was beautiful. Ask any one, with her black hair down to her ass. An ass that was a gift form god mind you. Breast that never sagged or fell short of eye level. Soft skin and fire in her blood. Yes my mother was loved by many. I was four.

To have such a beautiful mother is a gift. She had many friends and many loves. Men bought us gifts and payed for dinner. We went to church with them, the grand canyon, we got to see the red rocks and go to the best of parks. Cook outs and base ball. 

With beauty comes lust. With Lust comes greed. With greed comes hate. With hate comes anger. With anger coms rage and this is how you get fear.

Rage found my mother and wanted her.

He wanted to own her, love her, taste her, eat her.

Rage from what I saw had no face, just a voice. A loud scream.

Fear became my mother, my brother, and my self.

I didn't find safety with her arms. I couldn't see her or take my eyes off the dark that was screaming at us.

My mother had no weapons but to fight fire with fire. 

She drank in rage and gave it back in her scream. It would save us.

For years after I would try to get that scream. I need to get that scream down. My mother saved us from the dark with that scream, she had put all her might into that scream and had place fear into rage.

Two days later the cops found rage and place him in jail. My mother got to see his face, I have seen it. 

better be dead then snow

my Father was born in December. About the same time as the birth of gods only son. Ask any one who has the same birth day as J.C. and they will tell you that only J.C. can have a party on the 25th. 

The one year my Father was given a party and told all his little friends God grew mad and made it snow. For weeks it snowed and when t stopped the snow was to the roof tops. Sad to say my fathers only birth party was a bust. 

No one ate the cake or gave that donkey back his tail. The ice cream was places in the trash can and my father didn't get any gifts that year.

That sad faced little boy alone in his house of ice grew up to become my father, alone in his house. Damed J.C.