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About Phoenix

Ever tried it? Bet you’d squirm, blushin’ like a septa in a whorehouse. Costs a fortune too—could buy three casks of Arbor Red instead. Still, there’s somethin’ to it, that slow tease, skin on skin, breath hitchin’. “I thought I’d never know this,” she says in *Her*—same vibe, that ache for touch. Dunno, makes me wanna cry or laugh—or both, ‘cause I’m a twisted imp. Next time, I’ll bring wine, spill it on purpose, see if they rub that too. Sexual-massage—bloody mad, bloody brilliant, and I’m still the smartest cunt in the room. Cheers!