So I was alone getting the many large white cotton bags that we were not allowed by company policy to call “mail bags” off of “Ferdinand,” my ...irplane tonight. I left them on the concrete hangar floor there at Cape.Not that the actual Cape on the Mississippi River still exists; it was dynamited into oblivion a century ago in the name of progress. Having successfully left those items that wanted to be in the town named for Jean Baptiste de Girardot; I was on my way to the town named for Senator. I got on my knees and got to sucking…he pulled me up and his fingers were playing me…then: “Where are you?” came a shout of Mom from the house…”We’re leaving now. Hurry up to the car!” Damn, damn, DAMN I thought. I was so close to sucking and swallowing his come and so ready to wet his fingers with my spend but we had to go.I lay there on the porch with all those sweet memories but there was nothing like being and feeling atavistic in an animal lust…no love or affection or silly stuff. More

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