bill-swift - October 22, 2014
There is perhaps no greater gift or curse than the male private parts. At times, I look skyward and lament to the heavens about all the poor choices and errant decision making in the name of the bobos. It's usually about the time I'm wondering why I'm being billed for the Oprah channel on cable. Then there are times when that blessed little (err, big) gift from Mother Nature just finds its happy place. As in the leering of Leah Francis stripping out of her clothes and revealing her perfect peaches for the love of all things lusty. Today, I am glad to be a man. I am most days, except those rare occasions when my really attractive lesbian friend has a couple drinks and tells me she wishes I were a woman. On those days... well, I can't help but imagine.
Leah Francis always makes me feel special. Like she's removing her unnecessary wardrobe just for me. Such is the power of the sextastic lady with skills of both the bodily and psychiatric variety. She moves me form and soul. Bless you, Leah, for all the goodness you bring this world without ever asking for a thing other than our full and undivided attention. Enjoy.