Friday, October 7, 2022

A Love Letter

 


Sticking your tongue out at me is a fun thing for you. You’re playing. It’s a tease. But your tongue is long and thin and forked like a snake’s. To you, this is something of little or no importance. You’re just different and you take pride in your difference. But your difference is off-putting for many people who know you and who wish you were not so odd in your ways. It’s not just your tongue, but also the horns that protrude from your brow. Those two sharp weapons are nothing to ignore even though they are only a few inches long. And those yellow eyes of yours, beautiful as they may be, are orbs that are best suited to a cat.

“But,” you say, “those things are just ornaments, like moles, or freckles.”

But they are not moles or freckles. They are horns that are growing out of your head and slit-eyes that belong on a cute little tabby. And maybe I should feel tricked by you. It will be a year this Halloween when I met you for the first time at the costume party we went to. You told me then that you were in costume. The tongue, the horns, the cat-like eyes were all part of the show you said. I believed you. And it wasn’t just those oddities about you, the ones we can readily see. It was your pussy as well.

Inside that unique hole of yours is a tongue that can actually speak and hold conversations. Your pussy has a mind of its own. When I pointed this out to you as something strange all you said was not to worry about such a trivial thing. After all don’t ventriloquists do the same thing. And, no, I must remind you that ventriloquists do not do the same thing. They “throw their voice.” Theirs is a trick; they do not have spare tongues lodging in their vaginas, under their armpits, between their toes, or anywhere else outside of their mouth.

“But,” you say, “how many girls do you know who can give you a blow job while you’re banging them at the same time?”

I must admit, you make a rather good point. I must also admit that I am pussy whupped, and you know it, and everyone who knows me knows it, and I’m okay with it. It’s been a year since we met and all I can say is that I hope the coming year is as interesting as this one has proven to be. As cliché as this may sound, living without you now would be something that I can’t bare to think of.

Yes, my love, I am head over heels crazy about you. As much today as when I first laid eyes on you standing between the scarecrow and the guy who was dressed as a ballerina.

May there be many more happy Halloweens between us in the coming years.