Henry Miller

Twilight hour. Indian blue, water of glass, trees glistening and liquescent.

look into her eyes and you see the monster of knowledge, the shadow of wisdom

She is a woman in miniature, a copy as yet incomplete.

whores live only when they've learned to sell their cunts and not their passions

Then he laid me on the floor on some soft pillows and had me lie on my stomach while he started to fuck me up my ass.

It was wonderful, of course, although it wasn't as wonderful as when you ram that big cock of yours into me that way, but then I was just a little disappointed because it wasn't really new after all. Then I suddenly felt something new and strange. At first it felt as though he had come and the jism was going into me, but then it began to squirt hard and I knew that he was making pip in me! Oh what a queer and wonderful feeling that was! His big cock was stuffed into me and nothing could get out, it all went up inside.