(WILDER DAN AN EXCITED CHIMPANZEE)

(WILDER DAN AN EXCITED CHIMPANZEE)
THE SOUND IN THE BACKGROUND...
https://youtu.be/OuyDmsIbqaI

Show me that monkey...
The one nestled between your legs.
Lay back and throw them wide.
Make my dick throb.
I need to see... I need to fuck.
Pull your legs back as far as they go and stroke that clit... Get them fingers wet.
Oh my fucking goodness.
I want to fuck your brains into a convoluted soup.
Suck your titties and swizzle that clit.
Dick hanging half way down my thigh and slobbering precum.
Pussy so phat and juicy.
Rub that pussy and talk dirty to me.
Such a phat nasty apparition... The incubus that scrambles my thoughts.
I love you nasty and talking like that.
Asking me if I want that kat...
Yeasss!
Bend on over and touch those toes... Lay yo fingers flat on the flo... I as Deadwood Dick hollering Yeee Hawww!!! Riding you doggystyle... Putting my pole all the way to your back wall and extracting it swole and slick.
Your wetness on my rigid dick.
Fuck the neighbors I got to talk to that pretty pussy loud...
Betty get some earplugs or turn the Tv up loud cause I'm gonna thump the pussy floor... Meltdown the pussy core...
Lay back and show me that phat, pretty, pink pussy meat...
Titties flat from gravity, eyes clouded in lust.
That shit...
That shit drives me wild.


JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE LONESOME MAN AND A BRIGHT SUNNY DAY)

(THE LONESOME MAN AND A BRIGHT SUNNY DAY)
THE SOUND AS WE THE AUDIENCE WATCH THE SCENE UNFOLD...
https://youtu.be/hd9dqYTddR4

Most people walk by the lonely man and don't even notice him.
To those who do he is but a momentary glance...
He dwells in the most unexpected place.
The lonely man does.
All these people and here he is still lonesome.
A prisoner in a dangling birdcage perched over a precarious precipice.
His thoughts are interrupted by a man who walks up and speaks to the shell of the lonely man and his shell act accordingly.
His shell and the man grasp hands and bump shoulders.
The lonesome man looking through the eyes of his shell sees these things and sighs...
Would that these beings could fathom his depths, submerge themselves into the inky darkness of his deepest trenches where light is swallowed to feed the inky blackness.
The lonely man living in an outer shell that is so well known.
The lonely man contemplates these things.
How could they not see?
He introspective asks himself this question.
A woman passes by and the lonesome man looks at her lines and smells her bouquet.
So delicate and he as connoisseur swirls her around and sips of she.
She is sweet on his synapses and delicate to his pineal but could she bear the brunt of his burden... The weight of his task?
She looking at his outer shell sways her hips a little more and speaks rather softly, her voice as silken as the down on a baby bird.
His shell speaks back and she stops.
His shell and she converse and she gives his shell a number.
It is placed in pocket but lonely man knows.
She cannot bear the magnitude of he.
He watches her phat behind as she walks away.
The promise of something to quench his lust for love.
He sits on the bench and leans back.
People walking by see his shell but not he.
He is the lonesome man.
His shell protects him from society.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY