The bucktoothed Beeper fastened onto Bug’s dashboard resembled
some last-second compromise between career barfly and shaved squirrel. Draped across the ceramic figurine’s
practically skin-bursting bone work some slinky spaghetti-strapped dress in
gross approximation to the number Marilyn Monroe made famous, the thigh
displayer, whirling up over the air vent, only any sexiness on display here the
kind appreciated by the genus of perv seeking release from improbable niche
porn titles like The Girls of Auschwitz.
The Beeper easily midpoint in the skin flaying process, some invisible
sandpapery tongue wearing the dermis down in pursuit of a promised chewy candy
core. Sipe wondered how Hope liked it,
her latest would-be savior zipping around all points Little Creek, one of her
parents’ devised despicable dolls so prominently displayed.
The Lipless Gods. Available at Smashwords
and
Amazon. Probably the best $.99 you'll ever spend.
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