. . put the lime in the coconut an mixem both together put the lime in the coconut then yafeel better . . 

thats how he remembered the song Nilsson Schmilsson 

if he was wrong Fuck it 
                           no matter  hed been wrong before thats what the words sounded like to him it was hard to hearhard to concentrate on the words 

                                         he was in a hotbox under covers  she was shy his head was between her thighshis tongue in her pussytickling her trying to reach her tonsils an ever itsy bitsy thing in between  first time a guy went down on her
                    she glommed onto the top of his headhad him by the hairyanked it left rightright right left right pulleduppushed down pulledup yanked fuckin gspot fevered  must have been running amok a lively spastic visiting a new playgroundthreethree? times she tried to crush his skulltried to fit his head up inside her quaff it swallow ittried to engulfengulp it  like a snake at its prey

still she didnt wanna see him at her
                                       though more likely she didnt want him to see her quakingqiuvering lips she didnt think vaginas were attractive hers embarrassed her an he couldnt get her off that ponytailed prejudice he couldnt stop her from calling it a vaginaso fuckin clinical  quim cunt pussy slit peachfish
                                                                                 to be fair he was a huge fan of oysters  their construct folds slipperiness liquid taste texture sucking  how sensual

she didnt buy it

                  It’s ugly. You want it?  Get under the covers.

Its not an it Its beautiful  OKeefeian

Shaddup!

            really dug her heels in an no amount of cajoling or flatteryhe tried drugs nothing bent her will

so  he went hotboxsweat like a pig

shared it with her pussy

dug his companion Cantcha talk to her he whispered between bites an nibbles an sucks tryin to turn her inside out

Nilsson went off in his head as he gaze outside into a stone garden and fountain beyond her bedroom through fixed plateglass windows rather a see-through wall

her room was hermetically sealed the windows couldnt yawn or tilt or gape a fuckin waste the outdoors out of doors like a caged animal

usually he hated hotboxes coldboxes ceiling fans recirculated air recirculated farts and belches and halitosis whispered lies plots intrigue  which all could be swept fresh or scrubbed by a breeze or wind

outside in the gardenoutside the dust and rainstained glass the crossed woodframes hanging from a greened brass hook was a slender flaccid wind chime

whoever hung it she said she hadnt wasnt interested in its music 

who would torture a wind chime

maybe it was hung only for the benefit of the sun playing on it exciting its crystalbeaded clapper and tooheavy crystalfaceted bob 

four thin metal chimes hung down around the clapper and bob

no wind penetrated the garden or circulated to stir the chime

its utility denied
                  he wondered why it was ever hung

like trying to slip a slice of lime inside an intact coconut

0936,  Twosday,  21  1. 20
1501,  Saturday,  30  5. 20

Harry Nilsson  Down  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UqwYGNdB5jg