"Curious Case of Pip and Kernel Quim"
Kernel Quim quivered under the light of day as he pressed himself against the glass window of the shop, exposing himself to the group of tourists walking by in this red district. He gave no regard to the fingers pointing at him, and the amount of camera flashes through the glass, for he sought only freedom. Freedom from being hidden...freedom to unleash his gravest desires.
Pip was just as much alive when she ran around Kernel Quim, brushing herself along his leg, panting eagerly as he picked her up with his gentle fingers and stroked her. Pip shuddered pleasurably. Such a lovely dog she was—white, short haired and sophisticated. She loved to eat meat—especially beef.
HAHAHAHAHA! Okay, enough of my crappy Anne Rice, The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty impersonations.
Most of my day was spent walking around bookstores, looking for any possibly good books that were a bit easy to read—that would take my mind off obsessing over Edward again. I did come across several interesting books—the Signet classics yet again. I had planned on purchasing a copy of Mansfield Park by Jane Austen, considering that it was at a very reasonable price. Right next to it was another great one, Chinua Achebe’s s All Things Fall Apart then there was Gaston Leroux’s The Phantom of the Opera (or so I thought).
The book title was engraved in simple italicized font—white against the black book cover. The book was relatively thick, it looked new and was wrapped in plastic.
NO FREE READING, said the sign beside the shelf.
Odd, I thought…considering that The Phantom of the Opera was written simply and didn’t really push through with vivid imagery and flowery dialogue…but hell. The book was on SALE and I didn’t have a copy of the book at home--so I purchased it to add to my library of literary classics at home—next to Silas Marner, Frankenstein, Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice.
Alas, chapter one.
Oh wow…holy moly…
“His fingers dipped low from behind, and slid into the lower vee between her legs, up and into the pool of her moisture. His thumb fit into the valley between her buttocks, and his fingers began to circle around her inner lips, tracing the slick opening, rolling through the wetness and spreading it over her plump labia…”
I couldn’t even finish the paragraph…I was laughing so hard—the stupid book had me played!
So much for using classic stories to segue into erotica.
Anyone want to take the book off my hands? I’d gladly donate Erik and Raoul’s pip and quim to charity. I think I’ll just stick to the Edward Cullen fan-manship-ism.
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