Sunday, June 26, 2011


I wandered that day along strange paths seeking forbidden knowledge. I saw you at meadows edge, arms outstretched as if embracing the late afternoon sun. Naked and plump like the first peaches of Summer; pale of skin and rosy bottomed. Bewitched, I stepped lightly over leaf and twig to your side.
You turned and beheld me as if I were a long awaited guest. Our eyes met and I saw your heart shine forth, like the light of an angel, from behind earthy brown eyes. Love came to me not as a cherub, but in the guise of the gay martlet that lit on your shoulder and whispered in your ear.
You floated gently away; drawing me into the golden meadow, promises of ancient knowing’s in your embrace. I could not move; you faded into nothingness leaving a whisper and a memory.
I linger days at meadows edge never entering. I have forsaken toil and pleasures of the flesh awaiting your return. The shadows over my soul deepen until all is black.
-Tom Allman

Friday, June 17, 2011


The first time that I saw Caroline’s pussy I was thirteen. She’d lured me away from a dungeons and dragons game with a Yoo-Hoo and some salty language whispered in my ear. It was mystical and fuzzy; I wanted to touch it. She told me she would never show it to anyone else. But when it came time to show her my goods I chickened out.
When I was sixteen I saw it again. We were at bible camp hunting mushrooms. She let me kiss it. It was salty and moist and tasted a little like the morels that we were supposed to be hunting. I came in my shorts from the excitement and was too embarrassed to talk to her the rest of the summer.
When I came home from boot camp she enticed me away from my buddies with a six pack of Pearl and some even saltier language. Now a world-wise Marine, I was prepared for action. A chicken-head rubber I bought in Tijuana adorned my member. It opened before me like the curtains of the whorehouse I had visited with my first weekend pass. She told me that she had never done it before and I was too stupid to know the difference.
The last time I saw Caroline’s pussy was yesterday. It beckoned to me from the bedroom. The kids were asleep and the kitty needed scratching. Still salty and sweet perhaps wiser from childbirth. It’s forever the like the forbidden peach in her short and curly Garden of Eden.