Another Great You-Can-Be-A- file from Brutus Maccabee!
(c) July 11, 1988 {8th day of the Tour de France}

Ok, you’re a normal guy with normal needs. Your girlfriend won’t put out; you
don’t have enough for a whore. Pornos and Playboy just don’t cut it anymore.
You want real live sexual activity before you. Fucking the Dead is one way.
(Someone wrote a file on that didn’t they?) But this way maggots don’t eat your
cock off while you’re a-fucking.
If you live in a large building on a high floor, peeping should be no problem.
All you need to do is find a careless neighbor anywhere in your view from your
window. A young couple who still go at it and walk around the house naked a lot
are prime specimens.
A pre-peeping idea:
Try to carry groceries up for the wife while the husband is at
work. Then while she is going back downstairs, open the shades
in the bedroom and open the window in the bathroom. If they are
careless enough then you should get a good show that night.
Or, try any way to get into the apartment. If you are young and
innocent looking say you are taking some poll or survey. Then do
the thing with the blinds and get ready.
If you’re into illegal shit, why not just break in? And if you
have electronic equipment, set up some cameras in the bedroom or
bathroom or wherever. Also, bug the place to get the full audio
as well.
Ok, you’re ready to peep. At night, if they have the lights on and you have the
lights off, they can’t see your ass at all. Just get out the binoculars and
peep to your hearts content. Of course, when they turn out the lights you
can’t see shit, but they won’t turn them off right away know what I mean? And
they never turn off the bathroom light so if she is a habitual showerer…get
going. If the building they live in is close enough to yours you don’t even
need binoculars. But if you do need them, focus them beforehand because they
are a bitch to focus in the dark. Kitchens are good places to look as well,
because I have found that after a good fuck the wife usually comes out for a
drink and doesn’t bother to re-dress, and the light from the refrigerator
makes her show up very nicely.
Another good place to peep is at the beach. Some of the girls there have so
little on that they’re better than naked because it holds all the flesh in
place know what I mean? Just take out you’re binoculars and pretend that
you’re looking at the sailboats or light houses or some bullshit like that.
Then casually scan the beach! Woah! Awesome! Focus on some asses, you can see
through some of the material at close range.
You can also peep into houses and even onto the beach while hidden in a tree.
Or even while just sittng in a tree where you’re not really noticeable. Always
go pretty high for best affect. (Or is it effect?). If you know a hot girl
well, try to go over to her house and when there open all the shades and blinds
and curtains. Then if someone in her family catches you around the house while
peeping just say you were coming to see her. Ta-da!
Welp, thats all for this presentattion. There are a lot more places and ways
to peep, but I hope you get the general idea!
Special thanks to: All my careless neighbors and all the hot girls on the beach.

This has been a Brutus Maccabee presentation!
Watch for my new X-Rated series:
The Adventures of Betty Bondage and Laura Lust

A Beginners Guide

Horses are a proud, independent breed of animal. Their breed, their social
life, their training (or lack therof), and their own developing personality
are a few of the variables that must be accounted for when attempting to
understand them individualy. Horses, like people, all have individual
personalities so one must really spend a great deal of time with an animal
to develop a significant relationship. I can say with a great deal of
confidence however, that anyone that spends a significant amount of time
observing and interacting with horses can do ANYTHING with them.

Basic reproductive behavior

Horses, like most animals, depend on the sense of smell to signify the
readiness of a female for an encounter. The stallion will approach the
mare from behind and make a squealing noise…if the mare is in heat she
will “wink” her pussy and squirt a few short squirts of urine. The
stallion will have to approach her several times (unless shes a real slut)
before she will acquiesse. The mare will often prove recalcitrant for some
time, even threatening to kick the stallion. As he squeals and nips her
however, with time, she becomes acquiessent and allows him to mount her and
complete the union.

The Stallion

A full grown stallion’s cock, when fully erect, will measure some two to
three feet long. It can be three to six inches thick at the base, to about
two inches thick at the head. Horses are somewhat different from other
animals in the way their cock head works. When a horse is fully erect and
excited and ready to mount, his cock head is somewhat pointed and not as
thick as might be normally observed. This is to facillatate an easier
entry into the mare. After the horse has entered and reaches a climax the
head swells (though it is more spongy then hard) into a fist sized mass as
he ejacultates. It is thought that this serves as a plug to force the
semen deep into the mare rather then allowing it to leak out. A full grown
stallion can ejaculate about one cup ( 8 ounces ) of semen. It will take
quite a few spurts to accomplish this. Each time his tail will raise and
lower in a brief flick. The first few jets are of a thin to average
consistency of cum. The final few jets are of a thick gelatinous
substance… it is thought that this serves to “seal” the mares pussy so
that the semen has time to do it’s thing before leaking out. Horse semen
is extremely viscous, if you touch your finger to a pool of it you can draw
a thin string of it five to six feet long! Horse cum has a nice flat taste
to it…not at all bitter like man’s cum. You can easily drink cups of it
with no discomfort.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

A few people have chatted to me via private mail, asking
for advice on having sex with animals. I would like to put
down a few pointers for novices. Let’s concentrate on dogs for
this article, as they are the animal of my preference, and
also I think they are the animal most furries will readily have
access to. I will try to explain any jargon I use, but only
briefly, as I don’t wish this to be a technical discourse. If
you need clarification on terms used here, comment to me on
Alt.Sex.Bestiality or check a good ‘Encyclopaedia of Dogs’. I
am also only going to refer to animals that have not been de-
sexed (in the case of males, having their testes surgically
removed. In the case of females, having ovaries removed). I
can’t bear the thought of any animals of mine missing out on
sexual pleasure. Even so, I know in any city dog populations
are too high, and hundreds of dogs are destroyed daily. There
are good arguments for de-sexing, but a responsible owner
should be able to keep an entire animal without accidental
litters (and still keep the animal sexually satisfied!)
Also note that when I refer to dogs, I mean any breed
Labrador or larger. In my mind, anything smaller than a
Labrador isn’t really a dog. If I refer to a ‘Giant Breed’, I
am talking in the category of English Mastiff, Great Dane, St.
Bernard, Irish Wolfhound, Newfoundland, etc. These are REAL
dogs.
The first rule that leaps to my mind is this:- the
animal MUST BE CONSENTING!! If the animal is enjoying the
experience of having sex with you, the sex is so much more
fulfilling. If the animal is not enjoying it, you are
committing rape. If you have to force the animal into
anything, stop. I hope most of us would agree that we are
animal lovers, sharing sex with our animal partners as a gift
of pleasure. Any other attitude toward your animal partner
makes you a loathsome, slimy reptile, unworthy of the status of
a toad. So there.

Let’s start with bitches.
Bitches become sexually mature (depending on the size of
the breed) at around 8-18 months. The larger the breed, in
general, the later they will have their first heat (Oestrous,
the bitch becomes fertile after a 5-7 day period of menstrual
bleeding. Male dogs become insanely attracted to her scent,
and will chew/dig through anything to get at her. This lasts
for around 7 days, followed by another 5-7 days of menstrual
bleeding. After that the bitch is no longer fertile. Her next
…End of the part1. To be continued..

We get on the bike and go off to breakfast where you ask me what sort of
special feature my pants have. I smile, and tell you that I will show you when
we get to the parking lot. We quickly finish breakfast, and go to the bike. I
tell you to stand beside the bike while I climb on so you can see the special
feature of my pants. As I straddle the bike, you can see that the pants have
no crotch to speak of and that my cunt is completely visable to you. You also
notice that I have shaved all my hair off and you comment about that.

“That way I have nothing at all between me and the bike and I get all those
wonderful vibrations”. You reach over to run one finger along my cunt and I
sigh, wanting more, yet knowing that we are in a public place. “You know, you
can reach back at the stop lights to touch me” I whisper “and just wait until
you see what the back of this top looks like…….”

You climb on the bike, and we take off. At the next couple of stop lights, you
reach back to touch my cunt, but it is a difficult to keep the bike upright
with just one hand when I am squirming around. At the next light, I reach down
with my gloved hand and put a finger into my pussy and then place that finger
into your mouth. The light changes and I hear you moan “Let’s find somewhere
quiet so we can be alone”.

Up into the mountains we go, away from all the people, into the trees, the
warmth. We spot a small dirt road that leads into the trees, away from the
main road, and decide to try it. The ride is bumpy for a few yards, and then
smooths out and twists around into the trees to a clearing by a brook. We get
off the bike, you spread a blanket on the ground, and we sit down. “Now show
me this top”. I unzipper my jacket and you realize that the top I am wearing
looks like it is held on by magic. As I remove the jacket you can see that it
is just a piece of soft glove leather in front with a couple of pieces of
leather thong holding it on in back….one piece around my neck and another
piece across my upper back under my arms. The lower bottom of the front isn’t
really held down and gets blown gently by the breeze.

“This outfit, you look so good in it, and it looks so accessable too”.

I smile, “I have been waiting so long to be with you again, that anything else
I thought about wearing just didn’t seem right” You lift up the top and start
carressing my breasts while you lay me down with your kisses. Your thigh is
between my legs, brushing against my cunt. My hands start wandering along your
back, on your ass, around your hips. You start kissing and licking your way
down my neck, under the top, to my nipples. I moan as you take each on into
your mouth to suck on it. I am rubbing my cunt on your leg, “More” I whisper
“Please, more”.

You move down my stomach, your mouth following your hands, you spread open my
legs to reveal my cunt to your tongue and fingers. The combination of my
juices and the leather smells wonderful and it makes you even hotter. You
start licking my cunt slowly putting a gloved finger in my pussy. I push
againist your face, wanting still more. The faster I push, the harder you lick
and the further you put your finger in me. In my head I feel like a thousand
fireworks are going off as I cum. You stop licking me and move up so I can
reach your pants. I sit up slightly, undo your belt and remove your pants.
Your cocks wants out so bad, it looks like it is going to burst through your
underwear. Rubbing your cock through your shorts, I kneel beside you, kiss you
on the mouth, and begin to lick your neck, your ears (love your ears, your very
sensitive ears) down your chest as I unbutton your shirt, -and then removing
your shorts, to your cock. Ah, the wonderful taste of your cock as it enters
my mouth for the first time. Licking up and down the shaft, taking the head in
my mouth licking around the head, then putting all of it into my mouth still
licking it. My hands fondle your balls and your ass.

Your hands are on my head, stroking my hair. I want your cock in my pussy. I
start licking my way up your chest, still fondleing your cock and balls. When
I get to your ears, I whisper “Put your cock into me now, I want to feel it
inside of me”. Pushing me onto my back, you slowly enter me. You feel my
leather pants around your thighs, the almost satin feeling of them, and then
the feeling of being inside of me, the moist, tight, warmth. We start moving
together, slowly at first, but we can’t wait any longer. Faster, harder we
move, your mouth on my tits, sucking them making me hotter and wetter. You
feel me starting to cum, and push further into me. Screaming we both cum
feeling like it will never end, not wanting it to end. Finally we lie quietly,
in each others arms. We pull the blanket over us and fall into a quiet sleep.

I rang the bell. Was this really the place — or was he having a
joke at the expense of a white British tourist? When the door slowly
opened, I realized that he was indeed a friend! Stepping into the
interior of the townhouse, it was a though I had stepped through tent
flaps and into the most opulent carnival ever.

There was actual sawdust on the floor. The air smelled of beer and
popcorn. The big main room had concession stands where they were
selling popcorn — delicately laced with hashish – and white cotton
candy, also drugged. Beer and liquor were being sold by men in straw
hats, red vests, and white striped shirts.

Garish rotary lights whirled a dizzy array of greens and reds into the
air. Semi-nude women — black, Asian, and white — escorted the
various men as they ate, drank, and laughed uproariously. In
different languages, a barker in a derby hat shouted at the back of
the room, “Hurry, hurry. Step right up! Come, Come, Come to the Anal
Sex Circus!”

If the mad Turk Hazraj had not been so explicit in his description of
the place, I don’t know what my reaction to this bizarre spectacle
might have been. A beautiful Eurasian girl glided up to me. I
ordered a cafe pousse at the bar. In American money, it cost me about
$20. I was going to order one more for my “hostess” but reconsidered:
“You wouldn’t drink, would you? Just water one of these plants with
it.” I slipped here $20 cash instead. “Let’s call it a contribution
to the continuing survival of horticulture.”

She dutifully explained the “play” at the Anal Sex Circus. After I
finished the drink, I walked back to the back of the room where a man,
dressed in imitation of an American carnival barker, guarded the
entrance to the upstairs rooms. I bought two tickets ($100 each)
which entitled me to see three “shows” of my choice. The tickets were
actually more like plastic credit cards.

With insane calliope music blaring down the corridors of this two-
story townhouse turned madhouse, I made my way upstairs. In the old
carnival midways, you’d walk along seeing the posters for the midgets
and fire eaters and freaks. You’d pay to go into the tent to actually
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Officially, the airplane’s registration number — and radio call
sign — was N-5558B. But to my two partners and me — and to
the tower crew at her home airport in Opa Locka, Florida —
Beech Travelair N-5558B was “Triple Nickel 8-Ball.” She was a
outside business venture of three lawyers — my two partners and
me — who shared a criminal-law practice in Miami, and a love of
flying. Sherlock — the name my father, an Arthur Conan Doyle
fan, gave me — earned the law firm some early publicity, and we
were doing well enough to afford to buy Triple Nickel 8-Ball. Our
aviation business involved flying bags of bank checks from Miami
International Airport to Atlanta Hartsfield Airport where they
were taken by van to the Federal Reserve Depository for
processing. The income was predictable; but the flying wasn’t –
particularly in the summer when the Florida thunderstorms topped
out at about 40,000 feet.

What we admitted, to everyone but the I.R.S., was that our money-
losing business was just an excuse to fly and hang around the
airport’s Fixed Base Operation trading lies with the other pilots
and would-be pilots that inhabited the pilots’ lounge.

There was a flying school there — a collection of Cessna 150’s,
young instructors with their eyes set on the airlines, and
students from the local area. Late afternoon usually found a
fair sprinkling of women in the pilots’ lounge; some of them
students, but mostly the girl-friends of the students and
instructors. They all knew about our operation, and with
suitable hints, could wrangle a ride in Triple-Nickel-8-Ball on
our Miami-Atlanta-Miami trip when we wanted the company.

A few weeks before, the female “regulars” in the lounge had
jokingly announced formation of a local chapter of the “mile-
high” club — and that subject had replaced discussion of
instrument-approaches and engine overhaul prices. As I
understood it, the rules were simple: sex above 5280 feet,
unaided by co- (or auto) pilot. The novelty of the topic wore off
after a while; but one day a female student showed up with a
small pendant hanging from her neck on a gold chain: a set of
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Here is the long awaited story involving Kibo. As previously
discussed, I would have Kibo’s permission to use his name if he existed.
Also, if he existed he would have asked me to cross-post this to the
groups which I cross-posted to.

There is a quiz (Multiple choice) at the end. Please post results
to as many groups as you want.

Zangara’s Elegy

“‘He was a bloody tyrant and we brought him down. And I will not
have history think I did it for a bag of gold or in some kind of rabid
fit!`”
I looked curiously at this disheveled individual who was ranting
what I perceived to be nonsense. I turned to my guide, and hopefully
future employer. “What is he talking about?”
“Oh, he’s no one. He thinks he’s John Wilkes Booth, that’s all,”
came the reply. I looked closer at my guide. I hadn’t really studied
him up to this point. Suddenly however I knew that he posed me no
threat, and so I wished to know more about him.
“‘Tell them how the Union can never recover from that vulgar, high
and mighty niggerlover, Never–!`”
I began going over what I knew about my guide. His name was Dr.
Charles Guiteau, and he was the director of the mental ward of the
University of Massachusetts Medical Center. I knew nothing about his
credentials, but that was not where my curiosity lay. I was interested
in his character, and since it was profession to know other peoples
thoughts, I was able to delve into his inner self even as he showed me
the building.
“Kibo, would you like to join us?” Dr. Guiteau asked the mental
patient. “This is Dr. Sam Byck, and I’m showing him around the
building.”
“My name is not Kibo, it is Johnny Booth. Sure, I’ll come along.
‘Someone slew the tyrant, just as Brutus slew the tyrant`”
“We don’t know his real name, so for a while we were calling him
Johnny. Then the doctor who was handling his case decided it was better
to call him something else. I’m not sure where the name Kibo came from
though,” Dr. Guiteau rambled on. “By the way, if you come on Kibo will
be one of your patients. Dr. Czolgosz, the man who left for Buffalo,
was his doctor.”
I had been half listening to this exchange until Dr. Guiteau’s
last sentence. Suddenly my interest in this specimen was piqued. There
had to be some way of using him to my purposes. “I would be interested
in seeing his file,” I replied, confident that my speech had not skipped
a beat.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

The sound of footsteps crunching in the sand awakens you. Shading
your eyes against the sun’s glare, you see a man approaching. I
walk up from the water, still wet from my morning swim, long legs
carrying me quickly up the shore. Rather than grab for your
clothing, you recline on your elbows, thrusting out your breasts,
and part your legs slightly so that the pink slot dividing your
hairless pubic mound is clearly visible. As I near your resting
place, my steps slow to a standstill, and I drop to my knees
beside you. My eyes roam all over your naked body, and you can
see the squirming in my shorts where a cock is quickly growing. A
moment later the crimson cap of my penis pushes up through the
waistband of my swimsuit, still visibly swelling. Chuckling
throatily, you slide a hand across your smooth stomach to where
the bottle of oil is lying in the sand, and toss it over to me.
Then you roll over pillowing your head on your crossed arms,
presenting me with a wonderful view of your glorious ass.

You hear the bottle cap snap off, then feel the warm liquid as it
drips onto your gracefully curved shoulders, running down your
spine to the top of your buttocks. After a moment’s delay, you
feel my legs straddling you, and the hardness of my cock against
your back. I am gripping it by the base with one hand, using it
to spread the slick coating of oil over your skin. Stroking it
over you, I steadily move lower until I am sliding it over the
soft hills of your ass, and the sweet valley inbetween. Your
pussy is becoming inflamed, and you can feel it becoming wet with
an oil of its own. I continue to slide farther down, until I am
rubbing myself against the back of your smooth calves. Rolling
…End of the part1. To be continued..

“Sexy eyes.”, she thought to herself as she walked to the
escalator descending to the train platform. Hearing the train doors
open, she ran quickly down the slowly moving stairway and arrived just
in time to see the doors closing and the train pulling away. “Nutz!”,
she mumbled under her breath, and moved to her accustomed queue
position, where she opened her novel.

The ill-fated mad dash to the train platform had made her warm and
she removed her long coat, dropping her book in the process. As she
bent over to pick it up, her rear end bumped against the person in
back of her, and she swiftly straightened, turning to apologize. Now
it was her turn to blush as she saw that same blonde beard and sexy
eyes she had encountered upstairs at the turnstile. She had noticed
him many times before, and had imagined he had watched her a few times
as well, although she didn’t think it was true.

She averted her eyes quickly, not knowing what his thoughts were,
but she couldn’t restrain her own. She tried to go back to her book,
but couldn’t concentrate. The stranger had stepped forward to the
side to look down the tunnel for an oncoming train, and she could see
the slight bulge in his suit pants in spite of the jacket he held over
his arm. He stepped back in place behind her, and she went back to her
story.

Soon, she felt something push gently up against her ass, which
felt much like a briefcase. “He must have made a mistake.”, she
thought, and mentally forgave him. Shifting from one foot to the
other, she couldn’t help fantasizing about this stranger behind her.
She had noticed he was about her age, of average height and weight;
the kind of teddy bear she would love to hold and suckle. His face
was that average-guy good looking, with strong cheekbones (what she
could see beneath his beard), and smiling blue eyes.

“Well, what am I doing day-dreaming about him?’, she asked
herself. “After all, he probably wouldn’t even LOOK at me.” She
unobtrusively tugged at her slightly snug blouse, smoothing it over
her breasts, and rounded hips.

She had been uncomfortable all day, noticing how this blouse
accentuated her large breasts, and how the new brassier she was
wearing held them up and allowed them to bounce MUCH to much when she
walked.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

==================================
THE O.S.J.G.(tm)
THE OFFICIAL STRIP JOINT GUIDE(tm)
==================================

THE COMPLETE GUIDE TO GENTLEMEN’S ENTERTAINMENT

ELECTRONIC SHAREWARE EDITION

Volume 1, Number 2

THE OFFICIAL STRIP JOINT GUIDE(tm)

This edition is the abridged electronic version of THE
O.S.J.G.(tm) and contains information on over 250 clubs in the
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Perhaps one of the most interesting and colorful words in the
English language today is the word “Fuck”. It is one magical word which
just by it’s sound can describe pain, pleasure, hate, and love. Fuck, like
most words in the English language, takes it’s name from another language,
the German word “Friklon” which means “WHOOPEE”.

In language, fuck falls into many grammatical categories. It can
be used as a verb, both transitive (John fucked Mary) and intransitive
(Mary was fucked by John), or as a passive verb (Mary doesn’t really give
a fuck). It can be used as an adjective (Mary is fuckin’ beautiful). As
you can see, there are not too many words with the versatility of “Fuck”.

Besides it’s sexual connections, this lovely word can be used to
describe many situations as follows:

Fraud…………….I got fucked by my insurance agents
Trouble………………………I guess I’m fucked now
Dismay………………………………..Oh! Fuck it
Agression…………………………………Fuck You
Passive……………………………………Fuck me
Confusion…………………………….What the fuck
Difficulty……I don’t understand this fucking business
Despair……………………………….Fucked again
Philosophical………………………Who gives a fuck
Incompetence…………………………He’s fucked up
Laziness……………………………He’s a fuck off
Displeasure………What the fuck’s going on around here
Rebellion……………………………Fuck the world

It can be used in descriptive anatomy: He’s really a fucking ass-hole.
It can be used to tell time: It’s fucking’ Five-thirty.
It can be used in business: How did I get this fucking job?
It can be used as a prediction: Oh well, I’ll be fucked.
It can be maternal: Mother-fucker!
It can be nautical: Fuck the Admiral!
It can be political: Fuck the President!
It can open the door to wonderful relationships: Lets fuck, baby.
It can be used to enhance the meaning of a word: Fuckin’ beautiful.

The mind fairly bogies at the many creative forms for this most
functional word. How can anyone be offended when you say “Fuck”? Use it
in your daily speech. It adds to your prestige.

-Tell someone today, “FUCK YOU”
–

Erosian Theory Developed

My theory came into being from a multitude of experiences
and also from inner feelings which differed tremendously
from standard practice ideas concerning sex. I’ll take
this time to break down a few of these myths concerning
sex in general, and in relation to how Erosian Theory
deals with the same situation.

I. Sex is for people in love, primarily married people.
Men get away with sex because it is condoned for them but
women shouldn’t or they’ll be cheap.

Sex is for every one old enough to deal with and handle
the responsibility of sex. Sex is for married and
unmarried people. Sex is for women as well as men. Sex is
for everyone. It is GOOD, RIGHT, NORMAL, HEALTHY, for
everyone, at anytime or place when consenting adults are
involved. I think the keyword here is consenting adults.
As long as both (or more ) parties are in agreement as to
the nature of their act, there is nothing morally, legally
or ethically wrong with any sexual act.

II. Sex should be between one man and one woman only.

Once again, the keyword here is consenting adults.
Personal tastes, and the backward thinking of certain
cultures have forced us into the molds that we live in
today. Between two consenting women, or two consenting
men, any relationship desired is correct. It is their own
PERSONAL TASTES which defines their sexuality, and not
that of a televangelist or county commissioner. As long as
both parties enjoy and consent to an act, and it doesn’t
infringe upon another’s rights, who is to criticize. Also
who is to say that the act of sex should be limited to two
people. Many times there are parties of three, four, five
or more consenting adults who desire to share each others
sexuality. Where is the harm in this, if the above
guidelines are applied?

III. The act of sex should consist of vaginal/penile
intercourse, with foreplay consisting of hand to genital
or in some circles mouth to genital contact. Anything
other than this is really unusual or sick.

…End of the part1. To be continued..

(c) Neil Bernstein 1993

One Sunday, driving Dolores’ truck back from a provisioning
trip, Pete stopped along the riverbank to watch a crew of panting
scullers labor their way against the current. Their slender craft
slipped around chunks of floating ice smoothly as a ballbearing
sliding down a greased track. Got all the time they need to do
that, he thought bitterly. Men who could go home to adoring wives
and get up the next morning to go to work.
In Lombard’s General Store he met old John buying feed for his
three geldings. The man’s belly nearly split his overalls as he
carried the sacks out to his car. Pete hid a chuckle.
“You come back for coffee now,” John bellowed.
Pete could see no reason to refuse him. He followed John’s
rusty truck up a series of gravel paths, shook hands with his
pretty wife. John eased himself into a great armchair. He bade
her serve them their coffee and an endless succession of snacks:
toast, honey, ham sandwiches, spiced drumsticks, maple candies,
pear cobbler…
When she was done serving she settled back on a kitchen stool
and nursed her baby. Pete watched her play with the suckling,
bouncing him gently on her knee. He knew, feeling the certainty
only the superstitious know, that it could not be John’s child.
John had been a carpenter for twenty years. One morning he
found the work too exerting and gave it up violently, pitching his
toolbox through the window of the house he was building. He tried
a variety of jobs after that, settling on delivering the Weekly
Argus. He sat long hours alone at the head of his kitchen table,
playing solitaire late into the night, gaining ten pounds a year.
He always left a half-finished puzzle set up in the living room.
Pete remembered the last time he’d been out to John’s house.
A selectman was giving Grandpa Goosehair some problems, badmouthing
him in town meeting. The old man wanted Pete to see if John could
dig up any incriminating tax information. John looked over
everyone’s tax forms, considered it his neighborly duty. He got so
he could do the arithmetic so quickly that everyone brought him
their crumpled forms: farmers who could only read with a certain
pair of spectacles they’d lost years and years ago, folks who could
read Latin but couldn’t be bothered with figures.
Pete’d got himself lost on nameless gravel tracks and had
arrived very late. The ex-carpenter’s wife had just finished
showering and now stood before a full-length mirror. Her hips were
swathed in fine linen, her arms left half-bare by a silk-finished
nightgown. She braided her hair and rubbed fine powder and oil
into her tremulous neck. John knelt on the parlor floor, his
…End of the part1. To be continued..

1. You can throw the critter off your bed and they come right back
when you call em.

2. You don’t have to appologize if you cum in less than 3 hours.

3. They come in more colors than just black white red and yellow.

4. They consider cum a delicacy.

5. They don’t argue with you.

6. They don’t buy shit from the avon lady.

7. They think a herd of critters is better than just one.

8. You won’t catch any terrible diseases if he screws the bitch on the corner.

9. They already HAVE fur coats.

10. The don’t mind sleeping in the wet spot.

11. Animals don’t write e-mail flames.

12. Animals don’t divorce you and take half of your life.

14. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend. A man’s best friend is his dog.

15. Animals can’t talk.

16. Animals can’t spell “mysogynist”.

17. Animals don’t drive.

18. Animals aren’t offended by the words “bitch” and “pussy”.

19. Animals don’t tell lies.

20. Animals will forgive you for being human.

21. An animal, when it’s horny, will let you know.

22. Animals don’t know what lawyers are.

23. Animals don’t call you a chauvanist pig when you hold the door for them.

…End of the part1. To be continued..

Placement position : XXX Reviews >> Amateurs

Please visit aslo :

Video Seekers / Bimbo Wives / Porn Wannabe / Never Shot / Fresh Auditions / Naughty Amateur / Amateur Pie /

Title : Bimbo Wives Site Reviews

Hot amateur babes some of them older than 40. Nasty and dickhardening porn pictures of naughty wives show their own sexual ways

PLEASE JOIN “Bimbo Wives” RIGHT NOW!