“Tony that was wonderful.”He rolled onto his back, hugged me and fell asleep. I thought for a while about the merits of being a man, sleeping on a...dry sheet and the demerits of womanhood sleeping in a wet pool of sperm. Oh well.I lay beside my sleeping husband and thought back to the eve of my wedding when Mike’s fucking did little for me, until the rustic appeared. My fingers found my clitoris and I daydreamed of cocks, orgasms and being watched as I gently pleasured myself to sleep.The rest. And I can still hear my old hound dog barkin’,Chasin’ down a hoodoo, there.Chasin’ down a hoodoo, there.Born on the bayou.Born on the bayou.Born on the bayou.Lord, Lord.“After I finished with those lyrics, I stepped out in front of my bandmates’ mic-stands and played the song’s first guitar solo on my Gibson guitar. I had seen John Fogerty do several guitar solos on some of the music videos from my past-future, so I tried to pattern my playing after that great southern guitarist.As I worked. More

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