Fan Poems…Um, Say What?
Micky's bells inspire two things: CUM and Poetry.
From time to time I get letters and emails from super fans who want me to tell their favorite models all sorts of sordid and wild things. And you know what? I get it. I get the “want to do all sorts of raunchy as fuck” things to the girls who give you wood, man. I get it.
From time to time I get letters asking for things like pictures, signed posters, panties, bras, hair, pubes, shoes, pantyhose…all sorts of items that might smell, have been touched by or belonged to a model. And you know what? I get it, too. Sometimes you want to be closer to the models who make your balls ache and your cum fly, man. I get it.
And then there is fan poetry.
And sometimes even my vast dialect and grasp of the English language is tested by these odes of love and sonnets of sexual desire.
Like this poem about Micky Bells by her super fan K.H.S. who sent in this um, mutant Haiku, in an email:
“Micky, your kitty tastes like WIN.
I so dearly want you from behind.
Building up my nut ‘till what I really want most,
is for you to wrap your breast around my moist, wet cock,
still covered with the cream from when you came.
I made you shiver and then I made you scream.
So soft your flesh, I can no longer contest,
as I release my whipped cream.
I’m living the real dream with you, Micky.
Between your titties I do swell.
I’m not done yet, rub it in.
Use my lotion, now let me slide down.
I need to be wrapped inside your creamy thighs.
I am mesmerized by the lust in your eyes.
Lips so sweet the taste a treat.
R. Kelly’s playing,
It’s time for us to pump and grind.”
I will admit that when I read this, I had a real double rainbow moment…(WHAT DOES IT MEAN!?!)
And while I don’t know what this poem is implying, I know this: That dude up there, he loves Micky Bells. I mean, he loves her. And I think that is commendable and sweet…in a creamy, bump and grinding kind of way. lol
So, congratulations, K.H.S., your devotion has earned you honorable mention and a photo. Here is a Bonus Boner Pic, or a B.B.P., for you, buddy.
Because you are a poet and you know it.
xoxox,
Maria