Thread: Terrible, terrible story

..."itch," she said.

"My hair, it itches. Well, I should say my scalp I suppose."

The lady wore a red dress the color of a scarlet pool of blood, the same as the color of her lipstick as though her lips were of a she-wolf stained by a fresh kill. Here voice had an alto resonance somehow accompanied by an annoying nasal quality. At her side was an assault rifle hanging from her right hand, a sense of a Freudian hint of desire for it to be between her legs. The way her dark blond hair was done up along with the large framed glasses she wore made her look like a school marm, but her attractive profile and shapely breasts would be any 8th grade boy's wet dream. Let's make no mistake--she was a total MILF.



"Palin," I said.

"Oh ya that's me donjaknow" was her nasally yet mellifluous reply.