I never want it to be a secret that when I was a small child
my aunt, sister, mother & grandmother tried to scare me w/
                         with tales of ugly witches that were the living memories of their                                            foremothers &
themselves & my several                            female cousins & aunts & every
other women so I thought all women were green & voluptuous
because all I knew were women were appetizing                       when naked
b/c I had                          seen them all naked as they had all seen me naked
                           from an infant & knew my body better than I in light of diaper changing when I was still a spark of idea not mind per se with girls fingers wiping the sloppy                                 **** from               my baby
                                ****                            ­      as I was a child & they were
                   already unabashed about their femininity; their various scents
                                 smothering me everywhere I went; the recognition of the role
of my ******* in all this was confusing at first until the great
discovery of the universal pink snooch silent in all respects;
                  where all the blood & babies come from after that monumental
              growth distending her stomach until the messy wet child emerged
already protesting; from there I searched out every path to the magical
            snooch patch I could find while avoiding the ogres that lived above
in the raging head of the female person whom possessed said secret
******; my only natural weapon                           my ***** *****
but snooch is not a weapon it's a             sheath to turn the weapon into a quivering rod        of pleasure; to quiver together pulsing rod wrapped in  throbbing snooch