There was a time I would only write poems about women but it did notrelease my vision of how I see them as a whole so I started to create freeform art...on them. I will not claim to be a Salvador Dali in any shape orform but it gave me a chance to express my love for women. I would takesome of my art markers and have one of my lovers at the time get naked andlay on the bed. I would draw designs on them for a couple hours or so.Each time, drawing something different, releasing parts of. The man wrenched Julie's right arm towards his face. Her torso tried to retreat backwards, but the headboard gave her nowhere to go."Your fingers stink of cunt," the man announced. Julie's stomach dropped."F-from earlier," she offered without conviction. Julie had fingerfucked herself while the man fed her his cock. She wanted him to believe the aroma of her sopping pussy had lingered. She didn’t want him to know the truth."No." The man said. The fingers of her right hand felt humid air, then. She married the guy. She had his baby. End of story. Where the hell do I come in whether I love her or hate her? If she doesn’t love the guy, all she has to do is divorce him. Take her baby home. As I said, ‘End of story’.’ ‘Remember I told you ‘The conditions?’ She signed her life away in a pre-nuptial agreement. She doesn’t love him, Bobby. She wants to leave him, but he won’t let her go.’ ‘This is the twenty-first century. You open the fucking door and walk your ass out of it.’ ‘If she wants. How big was his cock? Something told me it was huge. It had been awhile since I had any really hot sex and it had been a long time since I had been with a black guy. It's a taboo thing to some people but I never had an issue with it. I was always amazed at the contrast in skin color and thought that was hot. Soon it was lunch time and I walked across to the diner. I was going to just get something to go and eat at my desk. I was waiting to order when I heard my name. I turned and saw John.