Juice & Me: Long Overdue

Admittedly, sweet juicy stuff triggers me bad because I need it bad. I have been all too dry & salty, deprived of the invigorating juices for all too long and have duly developed an over-sensitivity to them refreshing liquids, no doubt. When I drink apple juice or fresh OJ with a sprinkle of salt or sweet lemonade or milk with molasses or some coke with a lotta lemon or whatever, I can hardly stop the sip, sip, sip, sip and the resulting dip, crash, overheat. In like manner, around a juicy, attractive female I spill my poise all over the place. And it happens just in response to her responsive presence. Imagine the depth of mindless zombieness her p*ssy juice would render me to. Nay, even an innocent sentence turns me massively on, like the one I read the other day: Good panna cotta should jiggle like a beautiful lady’s breast. Good Lord, what a combination. A sweet, gelatinous dessert and a beautiful lady’s supple breasts. It’s just too much to take. Alas. It’s high time for the juicy stuff but I gotta go extremely slow [as if that was possible] otherwise I’ll end up in frustrating cycles of overkill [not that it’s avoidable]. Either that or I’ll dry out, crack into several pieces and crumble away alive. Seriously.


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