Death, or the Nymphomaniac

Someone’s mother is riding me, like the washing machine when she discovered orgasms 53 years ago. She doesn’t come anymore. Her husband fucked me 19 years ago too. He was the clingy type. Told me he loved me. We met years before, after a mining accident when he lost a leg. It would’ve happened then but there were just too many people around. He wasn’t an exhibitionist.


"...saw a man break down weeping"