It goes a filthy way. She is lovelysweetlovely in bath, but not between her legs, not the blood hole, the baby hole, the love-making hole. Older women do not have that blood anymore. My God, I wouldn't know offhand, no, no, I don't think so. At school nobody believes me.
Blood is sex, they say.
Blood is fucking fucking yuck yuck. That evening Mammarosa's face was very close, like always when she whispers. Mammarosa's beauty when her breath fans out over my face, when I see her eyes move, from my eyes to my forehead, from my cheeks to my chin, from my lower lip to my eyes little eyes. But Mammarosa's face large and broad with beauty often remains with me. My pecker is glued to my skin, disappears in my skin, that's how much I am sweating.