Friday, 15 August 2008

58. The Mail Bag

Cabin 717
Cedars Oaks Park (off the interstate, junction 14)

Dear darling W. Axl Rose,

I guess you get lots of letters, but I bet none come from as deep in the heart and from the depths of the soul as this.

I’m your biggest fan, Axl. Again, I bet everyone says that, but I bet ‘everyone’ doesn’t have your face inked across their back or fall asleep touching themselves and thinking of you every night.

The first time I heard you sing, I was, like, oh my god. It was a religious experience. Then when I saw you on MTV that time you and the guys trashed the set I knew I had to have you. And I still intend to have you.

Sometimes at work I can sit thinking about sucking your cock for hours. It’s like I go into a trance or something. I wonder if your pubes are as red as your hair, and I imagine them on my top lip. My face buried in them. I wonder what you smell like. My husband thinks I’m crazy, but I bet he’d suck your cock too. I know for a fact he’s sucked off a couple of his buddies and his cousin when he was younger, so it’s highly possible.

Anyway. If ever you’re passing through Toledo and you want your cock sucking either by me, or my husband (I’m not saying you’re a fag – just giving you the option), or both of us, or you just feel like partying to getting smoked out, you can drop by any time. It might be best you call ahead so I can freshen up first. The shower block is fifteen minutes walk away, but I always have a supply of Wet Wipes handy. We also have a foldaway bed.

Kisses and gobbles – keep rocking!!!

Tawny Hunter

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