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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1499390-Where-are-we-going
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1499390
Q&A with Shirley MacLaine
            Terry and Checkers frolic. Arf! Muzzy has stumbled upon
        Shirley MacLaine she is nude sun bathing and smoking a
        pooka. "It's a chilly November day. Aren't you cold?" he queried.
        "Not at all. I have found a warm spot on this rock. Would you
        like a sip of my pooka?" she offered the second pipe attached.
        "Sure." Muzzy blows bubbles into the golden glass ball.
            "Do I know you? Perhaps, in a prior life?" Shirley looks side
        ways at Muzzy. Muzzy blew some more bubbles, "How doth the
        crocodile swim?" He smiles a toothy smile and rubs her belly.
        "Oh. Yes. I know you. Your the Devil." she laughs crinkling her
        nose. "Maybe. Or I could be John the Baptist born again." he
        laughs and cups Shirley's right breast, gently squeezing and licking
        her pink nipple.
              "Our dogs are licking each other." she gazed over at her terrier:
        Terry. "Yup. And there both boys. Gay? Or just bored?" Muzzy giggled.
        "Seriously. . . . Um... You've got some bad Karma kiddo." She was
        getting turned on. Muzzy rubbed and licked her paramours.

                        "Hei-tei-doji Rai-gu-ka! The gate of Hell is open."

        "Uh-rrrrrrr.... I must let... go!  Fill me up with snow!" Shirley was tripped
        out. Muzzy completed his manly function and complied: taking two
        hand fulls of snow stuffed into her mound. She cried out like a
        Banshee, "It is finished!" Muzzy blew some more bubbles in the pooka:

                        "I am the sacred fool, who fills the well with snow."

        Muzzy and Shirley fell backwards off the stone into the snow. They
        clutched and kissed and suckled. "You were my husband and my wife
        someplace ... a long time ago...." she faints. Muzzy wraps her up in a
        nap sack and drives her to his hobbit. He sleeps between her legs,
        waiting for the rising sun.+



        Reflections: "The mind is empty without love." Shibayama (778BC).



        =+=


                       
     
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1499390-Where-are-we-going