IX. A Long Ride“Vagazzling,” I proclaimed, motioning my hands like I was revealing a masterpiece to a gallery audience.
“Quit. You did your vagazzle presentation this morning. We don't have time to go through this again.” Blondie looked down at me on my knees, the sink making her n***d butt press out to the sides in a salivating squish of perfect skin. She examined her blonde pubbies critically. “I don't know. I think I like the exclamation point better.” She tried to push me away with her bare feet, wanting to dress.
I grabbed her ankles in my hands, nibbled on a hot orange big toe. Said, “You don't like the flowers?” I looked at the design I had shaved on her this morning: two sunflowers, each about three inches long, complete with stems and leaves that intertwined. My trusty straight
