Going Down

"Watch me..."

What is it that drives youinto deep dark cornersinside dimly lit hotel roomswhere sultry sounds echothrough paper walls? Penetrating soundsthat pound, pound, poundlike heavy hammers undergroundas you watch mewatch megoing down...watch me going down on him,stroking, strokingyour little stem.What pulls you inwhen...

“So the farmer’s kid comes running back home from Maisy’s Whore House, waving the duck his dad had given him to pay for his shot. His father asks him, ‘So, how’d you get on with Maisy, son?’“And the boy starts...