Sipping a DD large and reading Drudge can get a guy goin'... 'specially in the morning when the t-rone is at the highest ring of the day. Yeah, for Fitz, fifty-five ain't finished. WTF, a law making it kosher to screw your wife after she is dead. Farewell intercourse... But only up to 6 hours. The body gets too cold after that?
Outrage as Egypt plans 'farewell intercourse law' so husbands can have sex with DEAD wives up to six hours after their death http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2135434/Outrage-Egypt-plans-farewell-intercourse-law-husbands-sex-dead-wives-hours-AFTER-death.html#ixzz1tF4wGjI7
The nut bag Egyptians are busy legislating. Well, maybe this is all poppycock. These days the media is sensational beyond all proportion. Consequently, the written or spoken word is more worthless than ever. Nonetheless, the news is some funny pulp day-to-day.
Fitz Mazzolli used to have a live-in younger wife. She ran off with half his pension, his house in North Carolina and his nut sack. Well, not the real nut sack, but the figurative one, the one with the "balls." Charlie Scabna was fucking her good for a year before she pulled out a year ago. She told Fitz Charlie could pop her four times in a single session. Bullshit!
Since Trudy left him, Fit-Mazz had become what they call bilious in his old neighborhood in Trenton. No, he didn't turn yellow or have fits of right sided post prandial abdominal pain. He became for want of another word - sour. Nothing pleased him and he could draw the negative out of winning a million dollar lottery. Which, by the way, he never won and he never will win.
Always with a three day old white stubble beard, the old man looked like he smelled. Hair was everywhere, but on his head. It was crabgrass wild and bacteria laden. Funny thing about humans priding themselves about their dead protein, coated in body oil and microorganisms... Trudy, oh yeah, was hairless 'cept her head and strip, both of which she kept short. Sometimes when Fitz fucked the no-titter, he thought he was on a boy. Hmmmm.
For sure, Trudy thought she was sexy. Indeed she was - as she did smell just a little there. Although Fitz never realized it, his wife was a nose explosive. Trouble was, whatever Fitz had goin' for him had gone bye-the-bye as far as she was concerned. The nose is the first to know.
Never a wild one, Mazzi was about as much fun as standing in line to renew an over-date car registration. He had gotten fatter over the years and he had unfortunately succombed to the 30-1 rule. The extra 65 pounds cost him two shaft inches. Having only come in with five and half left him just a little over three to tame the bitch. Ha-ha. Nowadays he called her a frigid bitch. Sourpuss!
Maybe those Egypt-ers had something goin' afterall. Surely wives over there obeyed their men. If they adulterate shit happens to them, stoning even. At least that's what Mazzola had read in a magazine he was pageing at Caponegro's Garage. Oil changes there took forever... So do lube jobs. Yeah, that skinny Trudy oughta be stoned, thought Fitz, as he slugged down the tepid backwash of another, but same, DD.
As he pushed back in his chair he looked up at the ceiling. White, fadeeeee... Moving beneath him, he could feel her contract and release her muscles to squeeze his shoot out of him. The scent of her woman overtakes him as he splooges with abandon, his brain chemistry afire. Oh, how much he wants her. Oh yeah, he would fuck her dead! The E-men are on to something good!
Ciao
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