" He took off his shirt and his whole chest was tattooed too, with naked ladies, dragons, and people's names. His nipples were both pierced. He grabbed my arms and raised them over my head as he kissed me hard and bit my bottom lip again. He smelled like he didn't wear any deodorant. His pit odor was so strong and hard to take. I turned my head and tried to smell my arm, which had remnants of my scented soap on it. Then he took his pants completely off and straddled my waist, putting his long dick between my boobs and squeezing them together as he began to titty fuck me. "Suck my head," he said as he leaned forward and put his dick by my mouth. I opened up and sucked on his pierced head, the warm metal felt weird in my mouth. I definitely wasn't used to that. His crotch stunk really bad, but not as bad as his pits. Then he went back to humping my tits, spitting in between them to give some lube. Eventually he stood up against the edge of the bed and started taking off my pants. I. The alarms, the repeated visits to thephysician, the repeated tests, the repeated trips to the hospital. (It wasthe same in childhood, remember? If an unpopular child was at a gathering,the other kids would mock & traduce her cruelly to show her that theywished she would go home. Nature treats us the same way when she wants toget rid of us.) And the discovery that you can no longer trust your body.(This may be a uniquely male thing; reading de Beauvoir in my twenties leftme with the impression that women don't feel they can trust their bodiesat any age.) And the disfigurement of your body--swellings, blotches &blains. Thomas tells us to rage against the dying of the light; but it'snot the dying that's the problem, it's the waning. The waning, not theextinction. Nature is not your friend. I'm sorry to abandon Pat this way. The bereaved have to suppressfeelings of resentment at being abandoned by the dying; Pat & I havediscussed this long since & I told her to go ahead &.
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