Day 50
4/14/2006
Her chest heaved like a ho' in heat, nipples flaring. An audible, strangled gasp
escaped her fluttering lips as her gaze locked with that of the ripped Rory Pounderkey,
sauntering in from the opposite door. His teal-gray eyes flashed from across the room,
seeming to unbutton her shirt and caress the Google tattoo on her drumhead-tight abs.
His prodigious blog "Rorum Decorum" was all the rage among the estrogen-endowed.
They would wait, breaths abated and wills prostrated, until another swollen posting was
thrust upon his site, vainglorious passages of passion, his words wriggling towards their
outstretched surrender of ovate innocence.
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