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Sweet Sweat (BEST VERSION, FINAL VERSION)
🕑 Added 2025-03-11 17:23:30 +0000 UTCLucy tossed a pack of gum, a bottle of water, and a suspicious-looking package of Endless Drive: Odorless Perspiration Formula onto the gas station counter. The cashier, a lanky guy with a faded name tag that just read “Mike,” scanned the items with all the enthusiasm of a man who had long since stopped questioning people’s purchases.
Then she added the condoms.
Mike glanced up, his eyes flicking between the supplements and the box before raising an eyebrow. “Well, at least you’re planning ahead.”
Lucy smirked, leaning one elbow on the counter. “What can I say? I like to be considerate.” She tapped the canister. “You ever heard of these?”
Mike flipped it over, scanning the label. “Yeah. Truckers swear by ‘em. Supposed to make your sweat smell like vanilla or some crap.”
“Uh-huh. And do they work?”
He shrugged. “I mean, I had a guy come in last week saying his armpits smelled like birthday cake. But that coulda just been the power of suggestion.”
Lucy snorted. “So, best case, I smell like a candle aisle. Worst case, I just paid ten bucks to be scammed.”
“Pretty much.” Mike slid her change across the counter. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
She pocketed the coins and grabbed her bag. “Just some sap who thinks I’m a good idea.”
Mike chuckled. “Well, hope he appreciates the effort. Or at least the placebo effect.”
Lucy grinned as she pushed open the door, the night air hitting her like a fresh start. Placebo effect or not, tonight was about to get interesting.
Lucy swung into the driver’s seat, tossing the gas station bag onto the passenger side. The box of condoms peeked out from under the receipt, half-crushed by the box of questionable supplements. She smirked to herself. Vanilla-scented sweat. If nothing else, Davie would get a kick out of it.
The car rumbled to life, headlights cutting through the dark stretch of road ahead. A familiar bassline spilled from the speakers—something old, something moody, something she used to blast through cheap headphones in high school. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, keeping time with the song, her mind half on the lyrics, half on the night ahead.
She wasn’t nervous. Not really.
It was just… Davie had this way of looking at her, like she was something rare and important, and she wasn’t sure she’d done anything to deserve that. It wasn’t just about tonight, either. He wasn’t the type to treat sex like some casual, throwaway thing, which meant—whether he said it outright or not—this wasn’t just about fun for him.
And she liked fun.
That was the problem.
She sighed, rolling down the window. Cool air rushed in, tangling in her hair. She focused on the road, on the neon signs blurring past. The date itself would be easy. It always was. They’d eat, they’d talk, she’d make him laugh, he’d do that thing where he softened at the edges and said something almost too sincere, and she’d pretend she didn’t feel it settling somewhere deep in her chest.
That was the cycle. Keep it light. Keep it moving.
The streetlights stretched thin over the pavement as she turned onto Davie’s block. His place wasn’t fancy, but it was his—a little too neat for her taste, a little too careful, like he was always bracing for someone to judge him for it. Though, living with his Mother, that expectation was likely justified.
She parked, grabbed the bag, and climbed out. Before she could knock, the door swung open. Davie stood there, sleeves rolled up, hair a little messy, looking every bit the picture of someone who had been overthinking.
Lucy grinned, stepping inside like she owned the place. “I come bearing gifts,” she announced, tossing the canister at him.
Davie caught it, squinting at the label. “‘Endless Drive’? What is this?”
“Trucker sweat magic,” she said, kicking off her boots. “You take it, and boom—your body odor smells like a fancy candle.”
Davie huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he turned the bottle over. “And you bought this because…?”
Lucy flopped onto his couch, stretching out like a cat. “Because I make excellent financial decisions, obviously.”
He was still reading the label, eyebrows drawn together. That was the thing about Davie—he never just humored her. He really considered things, even the stupidest ones.
“Vanilla,” he murmured, almost to himself.
Lucy went for the water bottle next, unscrewing the cap and taking a long, dramatic sip. “Hey,” she said, nodding at the cushion beside her. “Get over here and help me test it out.”
“Is this your way of telling me I stink?” he asked, but he was already moving toward her.
“Nah.” She plucked the pill bottle from his hands, shaking out a single capsule. “C’mon, let’s see if this stuff actually works.”
He eyed the pill warily. “Hold on, lemme get some water-...”
Lucy didn’t give him time to argue. She leaned in, close enough that he could smell the faint traces of smoke and something citrusy on her skin. Holding the pill between her teeth, she grabbed his chin, tilting his face toward hers.
Davie sucked in a breath, lips parting instinctively.
“Open up,” she murmured, voice teasing but threaded with something deeper.
His shoulders went slack as he obeyed, and she pressed her mouth to his, just enough to slip the pill between his lips. The moment stretched—longer than necessary, charged with something humming beneath the surface.
When she finally pulled back, her smirk was victorious. “How’s it taste? Sweet?”
Davie swallowed, his pulse hammering. He licked his lips, gaze flicking between her lips and her eyes. “Not the word I’d use.”
Lucy grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Guess we’ll see if you smell like a bakery soon enough.”
Davie exhaled a laugh, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “Pretty sure I’m gonna have to sweat first.”
Lucy just shrugged, watching him with a glint in her eye.
“Then we better figure out a way to get you all worked up,” she said, stretching her arms over her head and arching her back.
Davie blushed, the mix of hope and disbelief made his head spin. He blinked, trying to come up with something clever or charming or at least coherent. “Oh. Uh, y-yeah. That’s probably—”
“Probably what?” Lucy interrupted, sitting up and crossing her legs underneath her. She leaned in again, close enough for him to feel the heat radiating from her body. “Probably not gonna take that long?”
His breath hitched, eyes wide and hopeful.
She trailed her fingers down his arm, tracing invisible patterns, her expression lazy and amused. “We could skip dinner. Who needs food when there’s other things to devour?”
The red in Davie’s cheeks deepened as he looked at her—really looked at her—and Lucy felt the anticipation coil sweetly inside of her.
“Aren’t you hungry?” he said softly, wonderingly.
Lucy felt herself soften for just a second before slipping back into a grin. Her lips brushed against his ear. “You have no idea.”
When she pulled away this time, he didn’t hesitate. He followed her lead, surging forward with more hunger than she expected.
Lucy gasped as Davie pressed her back against the couch, his hands skimming over her sides with a fervor that sent a thrill through her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them. His mouth covered hers, rough and eager, all nervousness forgotten in the rush of heat.
They tangled together, legs and arms in messy symmetry. Lucy’s tank top rode up as Davie's hand found her waist, fingers splaying across skin that was warm and smooth beneath them. He hesitated only a moment before slipping them under the thin fabric, earning a low sound of approval from her that shot straight to his core.
“You’re learning,” she teased breathlessly between kisses, though her voice was unsteady.
He shivered at her words, pushing the shirt higher until she wriggled impatiently, helping him pull it over her head. He let it fall to the floor without looking, too caught up in the sight of her laid out beneath him—breasts bare, gaze heavy-lidded and daring.
Lucy tugged playfully at his hoodie. “C’mon,” she challenged. “Your turn~”
Davie complied eagerly, yanking off the oversized hoodie to reveal his bare chest beneath, soft and featureless with budded nipples. He barely had time to register her admiring glance before she pulled him back down to her. The heady scent of smoke and citrus enveloped him again as her teeth grazed his jawline, sending fireworks through every nerve.
Her touch grew bolder, fingers tracing down his chest and hooking into the waistband of his jeans. She arched into his touch, gasping when he slid a knee between her legs. Her hands tugged insistently at his waistband, and that's when it hit him.
He pulled back abruptly. “Wait. Not here.”
Lucy blinked up at him, half-dazed and clearly confused. “What? Why?”
“We’ll make a mess,” he blurted, still breathless. “My Mom—she’ll know.”
She stared for a second before bursting into laughter, pulling him down for another quick kiss. “Fuck, you’re adorable.”
His face flushed even deeper.
Lucy snaked a hand through his hair again, her grin softening into something almost tender. “Well then,” she purred. “Where can we make a mess that she won’t find?”
Davie let out a shaky breath, the tension quickly transforming back into excitement as he scrambled to his feet and helped her up. He grabbed her tank top but she ignored it entirely, eyeing him with wicked amusement instead.
“C’mon,” he said, tugging her hand with new urgency.
She followed with an easy laugh as they stumbled upstairs through the hallway, and he pushed the door open to reveal his bedroom.
Lucy’s eyes swept over the superhero posters, stacks of sketchpads, and shelves crammed with action figures. She raised a brow, fighting back a smile.
Davie rubbed the back of his neck, clearly mortified by the state of things. “Uh. It’s... kinda like a twelve-year-old lives here, huh?”
She strolled further in, picking up an old plastic robot and examining it with interest. “Nah,” she said, setting it back down. “More like a really cool twelve-year-old.”
Lucy turned, giving him a cocky once-over before sliding an arm around his neck. She pulled him into a long, sultry kiss that made the bright blue of his room blur and sway.
Davie's embarrassment melted away in the heat of her mouth on his, and all he could feel was the soft press of her bare breasts against his chest and the wild thrum of his own heartbeat.
With a deft twist, Lucy maneuvered them toward the bed, knocking him backward onto the mattress with a playful push.
Lucy took Davie’s legs and tucked them against either side of her waist, lurching forward until her groin pressed against his rump. She hovered over him for a moment, eyes glinting with mischief, before leaning down to capture his mouth with hers again.
Davie arched up to meet her kiss, his low moan vibrating against her lips. Her hair fell like a curtain around them, brushing his skin as she moved against him in slow, deliberate rhythm. The feeling was overwhelming—of her weight on him, the rough denim of her jeans rubbing intimately against him.
His hands roamed over her back, pulling her down harder, wanting all of it—her heat, her intensity, the full force of who she was above him.
She broke the kiss just long enough to taunt breathlessly, “You mind being watched?”
Davie blinked, momentarily dazed by her words. He followed her gaze to the plush bunny perched on his pillow, small and wide-eyed.
He shivered at the teasing edge in her voice. “No,” he gasped as she ground into him. “Don’t care.”
Lucy laughed softly and claimed his mouth again, losing herself in the frantic beat of their bodies and the way his need blazed all-consuming beneath her.
She felt wild and right and wonderfully untethered. There were hands everywhere—his on her back, hers on his stomach—and every touch seemed to spark an electric connection, setting them both alight. She broke away from his mouth, leaning back just enough to give him a view and herself some leverage.
As Lucy reached down, Davie sucked in a breath, eyes glued to her like she was a live wire. She made quick work of his zipper, tugging insistently until the denim peeled away from him. His tight briefs followed suit, leaving him sprawled out beneath her, flushed and fully exposed.
“There you are,” she murmured appreciatively, biting her lip.
Davie swallowed hard, half-dazed with anticipation and the sight of her towering above him. The cool air licked at his skin, and he writhed, already aching for more.
Lucy moved with deliberate slowness, savoring his obvious impatience but feeling every bit as eager, her own excitement straining at the front of her jeans. She leaned down, slipping a hand beneath him and curling it around his shoulder, holding him in place.
With a grin, she gave Davie a teasing nudge he could feel all the way up his spine.
His back arched sharply; he let out a low, trembling sound that sent chills through her, made her hotter and bolder. She settled more firmly between his legs, her jeans still on and rough against his bare skin. The pressure was wonderful as she rocked against him, losing herself in the heat and friction.
“L-Lucy,” he choked out as she worked them both closer to the edge with each movement.
She liked hearing him like that—breathless and needy. Flashing a wicked smile, she trailed a finger over his chest, tracing paths her mouth soon followed. Each kiss and lick left him gasping, skin burning under her touch as she moved down the length of him.
She paused at his thigh, giving it a firm squeeze that made him shudder, before nipping gently at the sensitive skin.
“Ah—you’re melting me,” he whimpered, half-crazed with need.
Lucy smirked, her lips moist against his hipbone. She loved how undone he was—eyes shut tight, teeth biting into his lower lip.
“I’m just getting started, cutie,” she promised, her voice low and teasing.
Her fingers wrapped around his cock, holding it carefully, as if it were a fragile flower that needed to be coaxed into bloom. With each gentle stroke, she could feel it pulsing with desire that belonged to her and her alone. As she continued to explore its contours and curves, she couldn't help but feel a surge of power and satisfaction knowing she had brought him to this state, completely under her spell.
She looks down at him, admiring the sight of him in her hand, throbbing and needy. His skin is flushed and his hips lift slightly to meet her touch. She watches as he bites his lip, his eyes closed in pleasure.
She can taste the salty tang of his arousal on her lips as she presses soft kisses around the tip of his hardened shaft. It's a mix of sweat and musk, driving her own desire to taste him even more.
A faint taste of salt lingers on her tongue as she runs it along the head of his penis, feeling the hot, wet tip against her lips. The anticipation of his release is making her mouth water.
With slow, deliberate intensity, her tongue flicked out to taste the base of his length, a tentative touch that sent a shiver coursing through him. Davie nearly arched off the bed as her hand curled around him, thumb rubbing in soft circles and driving him wild.
He let out a ragged moan when she dipped her head lower, her tongue trailing up with agonizing precision until she hungrily took his arousal in her mouth, tasting the musky essence of him as she bobs her head.
The world went white-hot and breathless; Davie’s hands clutched at the sheets as she worked him with steady insistence.
Lucy reveled in his response—the way he was so completely lost to it all—and kept him right on that edge with each stroke of her tongue.
She knew exactly what she was doing to him; every stifled sound spurred her on with more eager devotion than before.
Her fingers wrapped firmly around what her lips couldn't cover; she slid him slowly in and out of the warm heaven of her mouth until he thought he might lose himself completely. He was so close, every nerve ending burning with urgency, his whimpers climbing higher and turning into desperate whines.
And then she stopped.
Lucy looked up at him with a wicked grin, savoring the mess she’d made of him. “You ready for the main event?” she teased, wiping a trace of him from her lips with the back of her hand.
Davie’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling on the verge of release. “Y-yes please,” he managed, his voice trembling more with desperation than agreement.
She sat back on the bed, the heat in her eyes matching the slow and deliberate way she moved. Her fingers dipped into her pocket—a promise fulfilled to them both—and drew out a foil packet with a flourish.
Davie watched her with wide, awed eyes, still panting from the intensity of what she’d done to him. His need was palpable; every fiber of his being was straining toward her.
Lucy dangled the condom between two fingers and fixed him with a seductive stare. "So," she drawled, tilting her head with a smirk, "you sure you're up for this? Last time left you whining all week.”
The question hung in the air between them, heavy with anticipation and charged with wild possibility.
Davie’s breath hitched, a wicked gleam flashing through his dazed expression. “I need it,” he confessed shakily, legs parting in invitation.
Lucy’s smile widened, eyes dark and eager. She bent forward with teasing deliberation, taking the condom between her teeth as she popped the button on her jeans.
In one practiced move, she shimmied out of them, revealing loose plaid boxers that were doing very little to contain the hard outline of a bulge underneath. She stood above him, confident and unrestrained, the condom dangling from her lips while her hands freed her own throbbing need.
With one quick tug, she pulled down the fabric and let the full length of her cock spring free, watching Davie’s reaction with smug satisfaction.
The look on his face was priceless—a mix of awe and excitement as he studied the full length of her cock, igniting a primal and insatiable desire that flooded his body with equal parts reverence and lust.
His breath caught in his throat as he mentally prepared himself for what was to come. Excitement pulsed through him, his body already responding to the anticipation of pleasure.
Her grin was pure mischief as she straddled him once more, bracing herself with one hand while the other snagged the packet from her mouth. He looked so deliciously undone beneath her; it drove her wild just seeing how much he wanted it.
She tore open the foil with her teeth and rolled it down over herself in one smooth motion, the elastic tension sending an electric thrill through them both.
“Oh, fuck me,” he breathed, all-consuming heat pooling low in his belly.
Lucy kissed him hard enough to steal his breath. “Oh, I will,” she promised roughly against his lips as she lined herself up with him. Her hips thrust forward, the tip of her cock pressed insistently against the tight ring of Davie's iris. The small muscles squeezed and contracted, causing a slight resistance against the intrusion. But with each small movement, Lucy's cock only pushed harder, determined to penetrate the barrier and enter Davie's body. The heated skin of their bodies brushed against each other, adding to the sensation as the tip of her cock searched for its target. Finally, with a slight push and a surge of pleasure, Lucy's cock breached the resistance and slid smoothly inside, eliciting a moan from both of them as their bodies became one.
She gripped his shoulder as she began to sink into him, slow enough to feel his initial gasp of surprise and to savor the look of sheer want that flooded his face. Davie's eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of sensations, every nerve alight as he felt himself stretch around her, felt her nudging insistently deeper inside him. His body trembled beneath her, adjusting to the delicious fullness and melting into the intoxicating pulse of it.
“LucyyYy,” he choked out, voice pitching high in raw pleasure. “Oh fuck, yeees!”
She groaned as she buried herself to the hilt, feeling the tight heat of him all the way up her spine. Her fingers threaded through his hair, anchoring him to each intense thrust. She kept it slow at first, deliberate and probing—a pace that was measured for maximum effect but already threatening to unravel them both. Each push left him breathless, and each pull was a wicked tease, leaving him craving more. It was a controlled and glorious kind of ache, setting both of them on fire.
“Feel that, cutie?” she panted, her teeth grazing his earlobe. “Feel how deep I am?”
The question shivered through him, and he strained to meet her, legs winding desperately around her waist. His hands clawed at her back, urging her closer and harder and faster.
“Yes,” he gasped, barely able to form words through the haze of his desire. “Fuck, Lucy, I need—please!”
His desperation spurred her on, and she picked up the pace, thrusts growing faster and more frenzied, rocking him into the mattress with wild abandon. His cries turned into high, broken moans, feeding her hunger and making her lose herself entirely to him.
His entrance clenched around her with exquisite tightness as she filled him again and again, working him with increasing speed and power. The impact of every thrust left him dizzy and wanting even more.
Lucy watched him unravel beneath her, skin flushed and slick, his body arching to meet her with insatiable need. She loved seeing him like this, so perfectly open and willing, completely hers.
Her own breaths came in quick, greedy gasps as she plunged into him. The feeling was reckless and raw, a heady collision of heat and friction as she gave him everything he was begging for.
“Fuck yes, Lucy yes!” he cried out, almost incoherent with the intensity of it.
She moaned as she drove herself deeper, working him closer and closer to the edge with every powerful stroke. He was so deliciously tight around her, his body trembling and desperate, and it pushed her wild desire into overdrive.
Lucy’s voice was a rough whisper against his lips, promising him everything. She thrust harder, claiming him with the brutal intensity of their shared need.
With each thrust, she sculpted him from the inside out, molding his body to fit her cock perfectly. “God, Davie,” she breathed, her words trembling with urgency. “Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me—”
He whimpered, on the brink of everything, barely able to hold on.
“Let it out inside me, please!” he panted, all-consuming pleasure crackling through him.
Her hips snapped forward, pushing him to the very limits of what he could take.
Davie's breath came in ragged moans, completely overwhelmed by the relentless sensation of being filled and stretched and possessed by her.
The world was a white-hot blur of need and his own release clawing its way up through him, and still she kept going—faster, harder, and more than he ever thought he could take.
The pressure built with unending urgency, spiraling upwards until he thought he might shatter from the exquisite intensity.
He was so close, every frenzied thrust pushing him right to that perfect breaking point.
And then he broke.
“L-Lucy!” he shouted, body tensing and then exploding outward in an all-consuming burst of pleasure.
His orgasm ripped through him with violent force, turning his cries into wild, helpless sounds as she kept driving into him, drawing every last shuddering wave of bliss until he thought it might never end.
Lucy came hard with him, her entire body seizing with the intensity of it. Her cock pulsed inside him, her own release leaving her breathless and moaning into his mouth. She thrust through their mutual climax, feeling him milk every last drop from her as they both rode it out with trembling urgency.
“Fuck, Davie,” she half-laughed, collapsing against him in glorious defeat. “I’m never gonna survive you, you know that?”
He was a boneless heap beneath her, panting and laughing and still reeling from the aftershocks. “I think so,” he managed, voice hoarse and giddy. “You just fucked the life out of me.”
Lucy’s smile was pure satisfaction as she caught her breath against his shoulder, still enjoying the snug fit of his body wrapped around her.
They lay there in a heap of sweaty limbs and raw happiness, the rest of the world vanishing into the blissed-out haze of each other. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this good, this free, this fucking alive.
And then she pulled out with a reluctant moan, the loss enough to make them both hiss with sensitivity and delicious kind of regret.
She rolled to his side, still breathless and grinning from ear to ear.
“You alive over there, cutie?” she teased, pulling the condom free and giving it a satisfied glance before tossing it onto the floor.
“I think I’m in heaven,” Davie breathed, limbs gloriously limp and body still vibrating with the aftershocks of pleasure. He felt blissfully wrecked, like he’d been through a full-body obliteration and was too lost in the fog of it to even consider moving. “Either that or a ghost,” he added breathlessly, still trying to piece together a coherent thought as he lay there in a delicious heap.
Lucy snuggled up to him, her own breaths uneven and satisfied as she pressed close. Sweat-slick and still shivering with soft after-tremors, she tucked her face against his neck, finding the spot where his pulse was pounding and nuzzling him there with lazy affection. Her cocky confidence had melted into something distinctly tender, a side of her she only showed him when they were like this—every wall down, every defense demolished. It was a good look on her, Davie thought, his brain too blissed out to do more than catalogue the warmth of it.
Lucy takes a deep breath and is hit with the warm, comforting scent of vanilla cookies. It mingles with the musky, sweet smell of Davie's sweat, creating a delicious aroma that fills her senses. She can't help but let out a soft chuckle, her mind filled with images of freshly baked cookies and tangled sheets. It was a delicious combination, one that only added to the euphoric haze of pleasure that surrounded them both.
“Geez, you’re like a walking bakery,” Lucy teased, breathing him in. She let out a low hum of approval, equal parts teasing and affectionate. “The trucker pills worked.”
Davie’s laugh rang out, light and unguarded, a sound that settled deep in Lucy’s bones—not that she’d ever admit it.
He grinned up at the ceiling, his expression somewhere between wonder and amusement. “Y’know, Lucy…” His voice was thick with exhaustion, softened at the edges. “Thanks for coming into my life.”
Lucy glanced at him, their fingers finding each other without a second thought. It was stupid how easy it felt, how effortless. Just lying here, tangled up with him, was almost too much—too close, too real. Something fierce and unfamiliar curled in her chest, but she didn’t fight it. Not this time.
"Careful," she murmured, her lips curving against his skin. "Sounds like all that sweetness finally got to your heart."
He squeezed her hand, turning his head just enough to meet her gaze. “Hey, now I’m sweet inside and out,” he teased, voice dipping into something low and teasing.
She huffed out a laugh, pressing a slow kiss to his collarbone. “Lucky me. Twice as edible.”
He flushed at that, which was ridiculous, considering what they’d just done. That was the thing about Davie—he could survive the equivalent of a bedroom demolition and still get undone by a few well-placed words.
Lucy smirked, watching him struggle for a comeback. “The things I do to you,” she sighed dramatically, feigning martyrdom before giving in and melting against him.
“I’m so freakin’ lucky to know you,” he murmured, the words slurred with exhaustion but anchored in something real, something deep. “I mean it, Lucy. You’re changing my whole life.”
She went quiet for a moment, like maybe she was letting the confession hang there, letting it work its way through the walls she usually kept so firmly in place. Her breath was still uneven, her skin still flushed from the force of what they’d just shared. Each slow thud of his pulse against her lips felt like a secret promise—something she’d never let herself believe in, but maybe, just maybe, she was starting to.
When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, almost awed. “No, baby… you’re changing mine.”
There was nothing snarky in it, nothing deflective or hidden behind sharp edges. Just the truth, stripped bare, left in the open between them.
His chest tightened, something deep and aching curling around his ribs. He squeezed her hand like he could hold onto this moment forever. “Lucy,” he whispered, his voice trailing off as sleep tugged at the edges of his consciousness. This was more than he’d ever dreamed of, more than he’d ever known he could have.
And for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like he had to chase it. It was already here.
Their bodies fit together in the most ridiculous, perfect way, tangled limbs and lingering warmth, the aftermath of chaos giving way to something slower, quieter. She could feel his breathing even out, his body sinking into hers like he belonged there.
And maybe he did.
Comments
Twinkubus
Awe, thank you so much! I love writing stories, but most people want pictures - so finding a way to balance the two has been an interesting challenge!
DANNY BOY
I just want to say, this has been some of the greatest writing I have ever read. I dare say that this is art. I can't wait to see what else you make!
