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Kiss My Ass…Don’t Mind If I Do!

Finally!  The scheduled rendezvous arrived and my pump was primed.  I had been waiting to get my lips wrapped around this tasty testosterone for quite a few months and although I have been in a relationship of sorts, as the conclusion became inevitable my mind was caught repeatedly wandering to the prospect of rekindling some fire with my former flame.  Any healthy female can attest to the truth of the old adage “the best way to get one out of your head is to get another in your bed” and this prescription is strong and is backed by some pretty solid stats.

He arrived early in the morning and my senses were instantly alerted by his aroma, a musky cocktail of light perspiration combined with morning java and his natural deliciousness.  After nudging him into the bed and removing what was left of his clothes, I had him lay upon his stomach while I softly kissed his neck and back and then proceeded to his nether regions.  First kissing one cheek and then another, I had him maneuver up onto his knees and I slowly began to lick down the crack of his fine ass.  Deliberately, I  licked south and north and applied a mild pressure with my tongue to the area between his scrotum and that most secret of man-places.  He moaned with pleasure as I entered his bum with my firm and erect tongue.  I gently stroked his penis while applying a gentle, warm and wet tongue-lashing to his formerly off-limits behind.

For those females who have not yet dared to go where no man has gone before, I cannot encourage you enough to indulge your man with this exotic pleasure.  Not only will it trip your guy into the throes of ecstasy but you will be surprised at the powerful aphrodisiac that dwells between the tender balance of his vulnerability and your determination to seek his trembling capitulation.

Thank you, Steven Tyler!

Existential Exhibitionism: Part VII

She looked around; it was definitely time to get some projects completed.  As a single woman, the never-ending compilation of “male” tasks was always an issue.  Who in their right mind would ever want to spend their Saturday cleaning and organizing the garage?  Not to mention the yard work!  She practiced her procrastination skills as if they were an art form; until the day the notice came from her HOA.  These “memos” were certainly helpful in keeping the neighborhood nice, but what a pain!  Ah well, there was no escaping the mundane tasks of life and they could certainly be a bitch and it was time to quit whining and get busy or the HOA would have its hands in her wallet.

She dressed in her cut-off shorts and a tight-fitting tee, tennis shoes, and sunglasses; she was ready to tackle the mother!  Stepping into the yard, the weeds and other debris were everywhere so she set about getting the proper tools from the garage and began to work.  She had been at her task long enough to produce a light sweat and as she wiped the moisture from her eyes and face, she poured a light stream of water down between her butt-cheeks…ahhh, refreshing!  The bottle of water she had stashed in the freezer in preparation for this particular task had come in handy and she liberally poured some down the front of her tee.  As she looked around, she definitely was making progress but there was a lot left and honestly she would rather be doing anything else!

As she continued to work diligently at her task, she was oblivious to the man who had been studying her industrious form.  Feeling that uncomfortable sense of being observed, she looked up to see a good looking man, about six feet tall and nicely built, smiling at her efforts.

“Can I help you?” She asked sarcastically, aware of her wet tee shirt and her shorts which had the appearance of sweat in her butt-crack; normally, she would have never been caught dead in this predicament but it was yardwork and she was annoyed; who the hell comes to your fence and just stares at you without offering to help?!  She decided to allow her irritation to show through, unfiltered.  “If you are selling something, the answer is ‘no’ and if not, either pick up a shovel and help me or hit the road.”

Much to her surprise, he came through the gate and picked up a rake and began to clean up the weeds she had feverishly hoed.  She watched him casually, every now and again, wondering where she had seen him before and as she accepted his presence in her space she noticed his finely chiseled features and small, tight butt.  He had a way of smirking that allowed her to suppose that she could imagine what he was thinking about and she decided that maybe her appearance was a bit more enticing that she realized…?  As she continued to slyly study him, she decided that he was definitely doable and she was determined to find out if he was all that his looks seemed to promise.  They continued to work for a while in silence until finally she decided that at the minimum she would offer him something to drink.

“Would you like to come inside for a cold drink?  Is this your way of doing your Boy Scout deed of the day?”  She teased.

“Well, I was watching you and I thought that you might want some help but I wanted to test your bitch factor first—before I had a chance to ask, you beat me to it.”  He said with a sly boyish grin.

Not exactly certain where she had scored on that test, she decided to ignore the comment until she had figured out if she even cared enough to know.  Entering into the cool house, they were both sweating profusely and she couldn’t help but smell his musky, delicious aroma.  He smelled like Man, and it was good!  There and then she made her decision to have him and have him she would!  Not caring to know anymore, she went with her gut instinct and offered him the opportunity to shower off the sweat that glistened so sensationally on his face and arms.  He was a mixture of lean muscle and deeply tanned Marlboro Man roughness; his green eyes were piercing within the contrast of brown skin and white straight teeth and he had a habit of flicking his tongue to the outer edges of his mouth when he spoke.  Almost subconsciously, she found herself imitating this tongue-flicking gesture and she felt herself getting more and more turned-on as she sensed the heat between her legs…she could really use a spray of that water bottle now!

He politely accepted the clean towel that she held out to him and followed her down the hallway to the bathroom.  As she closed the door, she heard him turn on the shower and begin to disrobe.  Hmmm…should she or shouldn’t she…he was a neighbor and in the name of hospitality…?  Oh hell, yes!

She stripped down quickly and being certain that she heard him enter the shower, she quietly let herself in and in one swift movement she pulled back the shower curtain and stepped inside.  He didn’t appear to be too surprised but the look on his face was definitely pleasing.  Taking one long survey of her naked body he simply remarked, “I can’t believe how much of a hottie you are…” to which she simply smiled.  Without a word, she began to wash him gently all over his chest and arms and then his back; she tenderly scrubbed his small tight ass and softly reaching between his legs, she lightly rinsed his scrotum and his anus.  He was beginning to harden so she continued down his legs before turning him around to finish.  Then while he watched, she began to wash herself never once taking her eyes off of his; she filled her washcloth with foamy body-wash and began to wash her breasts and stomach while gradually moving below her belly-button.  Once she reached between her legs, she put the washcloth aside and grabbed a hold of his hand and began to guide his movements by allowing his two fingers to explore her lips and finally she led him to her clitoris and showed him how to gently circle it without actually touching it until she was ready.

He dropped down onto his knees and after raising one of her legs and positioning it onto the small edge of the bathtub, he began to lick her by lightly flicking his tongue over and all around her clit…it was absolutely and incredibly hot!  She felt the adrenaline rush inside of her as the urge to explode mounted; she wanted to stay there forever, teetering on the edge of pleasure and capitulation, it was bliss!  She felt every cell of her skin responding and she writhed with physical pleasure that only comes from the excitement of a new partner and the freedom of no expectations.  The orgasm that followed was so deliriously explosive that she embraced it and held it until her quivering legs could not support her any longer.

“Well, if I had known that being a Boy Scout was this rewarding I would have become a lifetime member.”  He murmured sensuously and appeared to be very pleased with himself.  She looked at him and smiled and still she said nothing; talk is overrated at times like these and what she wanted to do to him did not require conversation.

She turned off the shower and toweled him dry; gently guiding him to sit in the chair in her bedroom, she knelt down on the floor and began to massage his penis which was hot and throbbing with desire.  She could tell that he wanted to be inside her but she was calling the shots and she would decide when, or if, that was in his future.  For now, she rubbed and tickled his hardness with her tongue and taking him into her mouth she consumed him until he could hold back no longer and he gave her the precious price of her desire which she swallowed with great satisfaction.  Leaving him like cooked spaghetti, she lightly rose to her feet and dressed.  His eyes followed her every movement and seemed to beg the question of “What’s next?”  To which she simply replied, “That yard is not going to clean itself; let’s hit it!”

 

Moral: A good worker is worthy of his hire.

The Famine

Timing.  This little concept has the power to alter or define futures; the mis-played hand, the too pre-emptive strike, or a complacent attitude can either inspire a dig-in-your-heels optimism or a fatalistic pessimism.  Fortunes have been lost by a hand called too soon, or a sell made too late and the same is true of “chance” encounters.  That being said, I have lately been immersed in a sexual famine and although I know I sound a bit dramatic, the practical realities of sexual malnutrition can influence just about every aspect of life and not in a positive way. The simple prospect of going to work without the magic of those miraculous endorphins coursing through the body can be a dismal prospect; these little beauties affect everything and there is simply no consolation available when I am unable to walk into my daily place of bread-and-butter feeling like a million bucks!  I have had my co-workers comment on those days when I seem to be floating on air, as well as those days when I seem to be stuck in the sludge and the contrasts are obvious, try as I might to keep them hidden.  (In fact, if you work alongside a particular cranky-pants, I would not be surprised if he/she were in a state of sexual frustration and deprivation!)

So, back to my story.  Just when things couldn’t have looked any more bleak in this time of deprivation and famine, there he stood in the middle of the store aisle.  As he spoke, I perceived a handsome and intriguing mixture of lust, charm, intensity, and intelligence and this cocktail of the senses was powerful and impossible to ignore.  My mind began instantly to analyze, scrutinize, and strategize as I quietly thought to myself, “Opportunity is knocking and I must know more…some additional research just might be in order…better act fast!”

So, after about 30-seconds of statistically evaluating my chances of success, I asked him for his number and promptly sent him a text.  Although most men will tell you that they like it when a woman makes the first move, truthfully, they can just as easily become very intimidated.  I have found that most men fear the female who comes on more assertively because having been influenced by the advertising-inspired idealistic construct of romantic love, it is assumed that she must be either interested in having a ring on her finger or have the desire for control via a relationship.  In fact, if she is attractive and nicely put together, they can automatically (and wrongly) surmise that she has to be nuts or conniving.  The motive they almost never guess is that maybe this discerning female would like to take a test-drive before any of that even has a chance to develop…?  Therefore, I am very careful and calculating about who I invite to swim in my pond, so to speak, sexual and intellectual chemistry being mandatory water safety skills along with the requisite physical attributes (yes, shallow I know).

Back to my story.  We set a date; so far, so good.  The evening began a little later than usual which made for the perfectly clear message of there-cannot-be-any-misunderstandings-as-to-the-purpose-of-your-visit and although that may sound a bit unromantic, I can assure you it has the exact opposite effect.  Transparency in the female-male relationship is one of the sexiest and most effective forms of foreplay and allows a woman the luxury of relinquishing her anxiety to make room for anticipation (which is far more fun!).  Playing and fantasizing with the idea that there exists a strong probability of a physical connection, allows the release of energies that can better be utilized through the embodiment of mental and physical pleasure instead of nervous tension and allows this female the opportunity to connect for a brief time in my mind with the Creative Divine.  Getting naked is truly an art form and the most creative act that we humans are blessed to experience in this fleshly dimension; sex is an exhilarating adrenaline rush combined with the highest form of tactile pleasure known to man and suffice it to say that this natural form of pleasure can produce in me infinite inspiration—in fact, sex is the catalyst for much of my creative edge being translated into language!

The kissing was deep and the touch was soft and then rough…ooh, lah, lah!  Sparks flew and we both dripped with sweat as one caress lead effortlessly to another and the Queen acquiesced to lowering her drawbridge as his tongue bid entry.  And enter he did; first like the quiet knock on a door and then like a battering ram and it was sensational!  I soon discovered that he is a master of language as well and said the nastiest, most delicious things that could have burned down the entire castle if it were not for an unexpected flash flood from the Queen herself!  The smell of him still lingers like a current in the ocean, perceptible and strong, the natural groove of our bodies and the pleasures of sensuous skin-on-skin will likely keep me smiling for a long time to come (no pun intended)!  The despair of famine has been lifted and let me just say that the Queen was very pleased to have her faith in her instincts—and her timing– once again confirmed!

 

The Smell of Man

The images evoked from man’s musky aroma can be like kryptonite to a healthy female and his pungent perfume can have the potency to whet a woman’s appetite and significantly moisten her panties—and a particular man’s fragrant pheromones can stimulate and perpetuate a certain primal urge in even the most demure of females.  Seemingly shy, one whiff and she will proceed to hone-in, hunt, capture, and consume the object of her affections.  No matter how socially sophisticated and polished she may be, the innate drive to satisfy the lusts of her flesh will turn a she-male into an analytical, calculating, and salivating hunting machine.  This is the power of the smell of man and it is a force with which to be reckoned!

One such man has captivated my olfactory senses for several years.  I think he has purposefully stood within my sensory range in order to test his potential to take my thoughts hostage and wet my panties—and he succeeds.  I once read that certain subliminally exchanged chemicals have the power to thwart concentration and destroy lives and if I hadn’t experienced it personally, it would not have been believed!  Once primal  instincts have been triggered, the impulses to sniff him and lick him are almost more than I can control and I feel as if I am starving and about to devour my last meal; I want to engage every atom of sensation that is possible by gluttonously savoring and consuming every last bit of him.  Yes, this is what can become of a sexually healthy and free-spirited soul of a woman when the scent of him is in the air!

Our last encounter was a taste-bud extravaganza which still continues to elicit future fantasies of euphoria and exotic thrills: I licked him in places that may not have ever before seen the light of day—and he was delicious!  Hearing his moans of pleasure and delight was enough to cause me to orgasm right then and there and this memory remains as one of my most fond.  (I was able to persuade him to leave his shirt behind in my safe-keeping, for medicinal purposes of course!)  What is in store for him during our next encounter I do not know, that information is stored within the secrets of my animal-brain but I do so look forward to a second-course adventure…

Meow!

 

A Travelers Guide to the Vagina

The power of the vagina.  It always was (and always will be) the one determining factor that continues to set the stage for the entire course of history.  Truth be told, the vagina stands at the apex of all true power—the vehicle by which the whole species is perpetuated and at the same time capable of bringing the strongest of men to their knees.  All heterosexual men desire its promises of pleasure and are confounded by its ability to dramatically alter their lives.  No wonder the vagina has been the catalyst of so much fascination and fear: resting within its very walls lies the source of hope and undeniable destruction!

History is fraught with examples of kingdoms destroyed (Samson and the Philistines), monarchies compromised (Prince Edward and Wallace Simpson), lives sacrificed (Henry VIII and a few wives!), and the salvation of the entire race of humanity (Jesus, the Christ), all of which began with the mother of all pleasures—the vagina.  Anne Boleyn was able to influence the religious paradigms of England by withholding her goods until Henry VIII succeeded in casting-out Catholicism and naming Protestantism as the official religion of England.  Not only did the entire country become divided from within, but the future Queen of England convinced Henry that he alone was God’s chosen earthly ruler.  Only after insuring her probability of becoming the future queen did the shrewd Anne Boleyn grant a passport to her previously inaccessible territory and thereby the assurance of her name in history.  Anne’s fate is well-known, but it is important to remember that once again the vagina held center stage in the ensuing drama and her eventual demise.  Need I say more?

In order to take an excursion to the realm of the vainglorious vagina, one must first clear the mind of any preconceived ideas, for contrary to popular opinion, they do not all look alike!  The mystery that surrounds the sum of its parts is certainly grounded in its location: the vagina is tucked neatly (and inconspicuously) between the legs.  Unlike its counterpart, the penis, the vagina is a discreet location that is not visible to any excepting the owner of its territory, or the most determined explorers!  If you are a male, and you are blessed to have an uninhibited female in your midst, a visual introduction will most certainly assist you in your adventures and the knowledge gained will undoubtedly enhance your reputation.  It is one lucky female who has the opportunity to reap the benefits of an educated and experienced guide!

First, we begin our travels by determining the best routes to our destination.  Located below the summit of the Mons Veneris (appropriately known as the Mount of Venus), the vagina rests in hidden seclusion; a side-trek to the surrounding countryside is highly recommended due to the extremely sensitive nature of the Mons.  In fact, this often overlooked hillside houses an intricate network of nerve-endings that make the detour worthwhile and will help to greatly assist in the discovery of the path of least resistance.  Once the oft-overlooked delights of this detour have been explored, the time to venture forth will cause you to head in a southerly direction toward the long-awaited labia!  This area is akin to the castle walls that house the Queen.  Care must be taken here to discover its most vulnerable point of entry and a full examination of the architecture is highly encouraged.  Once inside, the little-labia are the silk curtains by which the Queen chooses to cloak herself within and as with any fine fabric, your care in handling will determine the success of your seeking an audience with Her Majesty.  Now for the object of affection: herein lies the Queen herself, the mysterious clitoris.  Nestled within the shadows of the luscious labia rests this object of much mystery and fascination.  This tiny protuberance has the power to turn even the most frigid of females into a quivering mass of yielding flesh.  The secret to its mystery lies within the approach: too much confidence, or too little, will yield the same result—an interrupted and unsuccessful visit.  Few travelers know that the way to the clitoris lies just below it and any attention paid toward this portion of the journey will yield the same results as heartily bribing a maître d for the best seat in the restaurant: you will succeed!  Once you have gained entrance to the Queen, a panoramic inspection should occur taking care to repeatedly circle around and around (and around…) until Her Majesty relinquishes all decorum.  Only when the Queen signals her approval of your approach, will you gain an effortless entry and consequently satisfying visit.  Once this portion of the trip has been completed, the door to the vagina will be open and in eager expectation of your visit!

Truth be told, the accommodations at the end of your journey will be such that you will not wish to leave, however, all good things must come to an end!  Once your visit has concluded, the knowledge that you will have gained will most certainly enhance your curriculum vitae as an experienced and practiced traveler and the odds that you will choose to revisit this destination are highly likely.  In fact, if you are a considerate and conscientious guest, the Queen will most certainly be requesting your return!

 

Existential Exhibitionism: Part V

Her last encounter was hot, she thought to herself.  It was going to be challenging to top it but she knew she would, of that there was no doubt.  The insatiable cravings of a highly-sexed nature kept her constantly on the look-out for opportunities to satisfy her inner adrenaline junkie and the sweet release that only a good pounding can deliver.

Nevertheless, despite her demanding urges she was very selective.  The object of her affections had to have a slightly arrogant demeanor, the kind that spoke very little in words but whose eyes spoke volumes.  In addition, his covert pride would be combined with a sort of boyish shyness that made him irresistible, no matter his appearance.  Quite often, she imagined that these delectable types were hungry for a “take charge” type of female and that their overbearing attempts at confidence belied a desire to be dominated and seduced.  Oftentimes, she would look a potential candidate up and down until she was certain that his dick was aching!

She noticed just such a specimen, yesterday.  In the neighborhood very near her house, was a construction crew.  One of the group was an unshaven and ruggedly handsome sample and she had made brief eye contact with him.  Noticing that his shirt hugged the muscles in his arms and that his jeans fit nicely around his small, firm butt, she had let him know that she appreciated the scenery and this had resulted in smiles having been exchanged. To make the cocktail (ahem…!) even more appealing, he glistened with a light layer of sweat that could only be described as delectable.  Her hunger having been whetted, she would have had no qualms in licking the sweat right off of him!

Going out to her car the next morning, she noticed that the crew was still at work.  How could she entice him into her house to make a plan for later… when she would be free to ravish every inch of his delicious body?  She thought quickly, perhaps she could ask him if he knew anything about plumbing…?  Catching his eye, she motioned toward him giving the impression of needing to ask a general question; while the crew looked on, he came shyly over to her and she proceeded to ask him if he could take a look at something in her house.  Cautiously, he entered in through the front door and she led him directly into the master bedroom where an annoyingly leaky faucet announced its presence.  Relieved that he seemed to have the situation in hand, he approached the sink with confidence and focus.  Standing closely behind him, she could smell his musky and tantalizing natural sex-his aroma of man-and she wanted to jump him right then and there!  However, decorum decreed that she not get the man fired so she told him to come to her place at 5:30 a.m. the next morning and she would feed him a breakfast of Champions!  She knew she would not be able to sleep a wink that night but the loss of sleep would be worth it!

Awake at 4:00 a.m., she made her preparations.  This ritual was a pleasure all of its own: thinking about him, what she wanted to do to him, what his moans of pleasure would sound like, and how he would taste brought her very near to orgasm.  At last, she heard the light knock at her backdoor.  Her heart pounding and hands shaking with a cold sweat, she reclined on the sofa so as to make his first impression of her enough to render him speechless.  She didn’t want him to talk, not with his mouth, she had other plans for that aperture.  She rose slowly and grabbed him by his shirt and kissed him deeply with her tongue thrusting in and out and all around his tongue.  All the while she was smelling him, tasting him, drinking him in; placing her hands down into his pants, she felt the hardness of his cock.  Undressing him, she stroked his tastiness awhile until she couldn’t wait any longer; she put her lips and tongue on the head of his cock, and licked him all around and tickled the small, tight piece of flesh that strained with desire on the underside of his head.  Looking for the tell-tale signs of his restraint, she saw the tiny drop of white sweetness as it appeared on his tip.  She lapped it off and then proceeded to lick him like a popsickle, swirling her tongue over and around the tip of his cock while she applied suction-like pressure on the down-strokes.  She deep-throated him and cupped his balls and felt them rise up and harden inside him.  He moaned with pleasure and that was what made it all worthwhile-that, and what was to follow.  She led him to her bed and instructed him to position himself on all fours.  Nervously, but willingly, he complied.  She knelt down behind him and began to kiss and lick his beautiful ass.  Working her way over, she began to lightly lick and tickle the sensitive areas between his cheeks.  She was so turned-on by his moaning which in-turn encouraged her own uninhibited instincts causing her to lick lower and lower until she felt the small, tight circle of his butthole.  Licking up and down and all around, she gently inserted her tongue into his most sensitive of g-spots and he moaned with such pleasure that she thought she would explode.  Reaching her hand forward and gently stroking his dick, she thrust her tongue in and out of his butthole while rubbing and lightly squeezing him until he could stand it no more and erupted in glorious and exhilarating orgasm.

 

Part VI: Her Turn…

 

 

Cunnilinguine: The Art of Al Dente

Al dente.  The perfect state of completion.  The trick to its attainment is to view the process as an art: subjective, emotional, profound, and above all else, an experience of pure pleasure.  If performed skillfully, there is absolutely nothing else like it in this human existence.  Unlike the mastery of other forms of pleasure, the one who pursues this option will be rewarded with demands for more and a solid place in the halls of skillful lovers.

Nothing is worse than attempting to consume a repast that is not properly prepared, or has been served prematurely. The foreplay of successful appetite preparation is extremely important and should not be rushed.  Oftentimes, before I make ready to enjoy this epicurean delight, I have played scenarios over in my mind and eagerly looked forward to its pleasures long before I have been given the opportunity to experience its delights. Therefore, the time-consuming act of adequate preparation cannot be over-stated.  When the object of desire has reached its boiling point, the addition of a lubricant (very important) will guarantee that each individual portion of the repast will not cling together but will instead separate and yield quite easily to allow insertion of the culinary instrument.  Once each section has been properly examined, circulated, and agitated, the boil will resume and an appropriate cooking time will need to be set, say…10-11 minutes..?  Once each section is accorded the appropriate attention and is ascertained to be cooked to perfection, you may then proceed to serve up the main course by the folding-in and rolling over and over of the coup d’etat  which will result in immediate capitulation and blissful surrender of the cunnilinguine and the ecstasies of the ultimate dining experience.

Anyone for seconds?!

Existential Exhibitionism…Part Deux

You pause and think quickly, this is either the luckiest day of your life or the most foolish.  One way or another, you will have your answer within the next two minutes, you say to yourself as you casually rise from your chair and mustering all of the self-control that you possess, walk as nonchalantly as possible toward the dark corner.  You are acutely aware that you may be making a fatal error in judgement, but at the same time you realize that this may be the chance of  a lifetime!  You can still smell her perfume and you feel the tightness in your pants as your desire propels you forward.  The time for second thoughts has passed as you allow the darkness to swallow you and her scent to fill your nostrils; your heart is racing and your cock is throbbing as you feel small, soft hands reach up to grab your neck and pulling you down to her, she opens her mouth and the kiss is nothing short of nuclear fusion.  You have forgotten where you are, who you are, and all facets of reality as your senses explode with animal desire.  Her mouth is warm and wet and she kisses you deeply with her delicate tongue; she has her hand on your crotch and is lightly rubbing and feeling the outside fabric pulled taut against your zipper.  She deftly unbuckles the belt you are wearing and just as quickly unzips your pants and reaches in to relieve your discomfort with the firm, warm strokes of her hand on your blood engorged and throbbing phallus.  Sweetly, exquisitely, she drops to her knees and begins to lick the tip and the rim of your cock; you feel the warmth of her mouth slowly begin to swallow you as you are fully engulfed.  She runs the tip of her hardened tongue up and down, slowly over your member.  You hold her head in your hands as you guide her movements and the intensity of her rhythm.  So deliciously, you feel your scrotum rising and beginning to tighten, your moment of turbulence is about to feel release…not yet, not yet, you say to yourself but you know you are helpless to stop the sweet misery that will lead to your capitulation and  final expression of ecstasy….

To be continued…

 

Anyone have a cigarette…?!

 

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