Open Letter to Santorum: Uncut.

Seriously? Just because your real name is Richard John Santorum, that is no reason to also live up to a possible nickname Dick Dick Santorum.

While you might not be so inclined to read this page... ever, I still put my name out there as a writer and an American to talk man to man with you about a few things. There was a terrible gloom that passed over this country while you were promoting yourself and by reading this you could definitely come clean with all of us, whatever side we wish to be on; be it Republican, Democrat, liberal, conservative or your personal favorite: Nuts. Your bread and butter as a senator was, is and shall always be the deep pockets and fear motivated looney tunes of the right. Standing ready, I shall wait for the barrage of claims that I am a liberal jerk by people that have a very vague understanding of what liberal means.

I kept track of your campaign for one reason: it was hilarious! Its clear also that most people thought the same, and it wasn't hard to find the not-so-hidden joke in everything you said. That thing about Obama supporting our enemies; this of course as Bin Laden was being fed to fish: Classic. That whole thing about Clinton being the most corrupt morally; which by that logic, total crook Nixon and slave banger Jefferson are not as bad: Comedy gold!

Enjoy some real comedy gold:


Your idea about making oral sex illegal; because undoubtedly you've not tried it: Left me in stitches. I dare say, it is almost a let down that your run was cut short because if there is one thing I love watching more that a car crashing and burning, Its a whole idea dying in its hospital bed.
One high note of your greatest hits collection in your stint as the republican's possible MVP was your stance on abortion and contraception. This was where you were a true viking, make no mistake.
 According to you:

"One of the things I will talk about that no president has talked about before is … the dangers of contraception in this country, the whole sexual libertine idea. It's not okay because it's a license to do things in the sexual realm that is counter to how things are supposed to be. They're supposed to be within marriage, for purposes that are, yes, conjugal … but also procreative."

Something you said during your recent run. While I can see your point, it's still stupid and deserving of disagreement. People aren't going to stop having sex just because they're not married, Rick. Sex isn't an act of rebellion that can be enforced by laws of the land and isn't going to stop being the funnest human to human activity. I think the course of human history will tell you that every time people were persecuted for the act of fucking by a system, the system crumbled after. Even Jesus refused to cast stones towards these sins (crack open that Bible you love so much and look up John 8:7).

Which brings me to my counterpoint to your point. You, the GOP and the rest of the right are always very quick to defend the belief that not only are abortions wrong and murderous, and even having kids out of wedlock is also a no-no. Hell, you took that concept and rammed it in its ass further by saying that even PREVENTING pregnancy was a bad idea. These points are all things that the right wing has every right to believe and follow to the "T" if they so choose. Where the window clouds up is when after our married and sanctified couples produce an unaffordable amount of hungry, unruly germ-balls kids and suddenly those holier than thou parent can't afford to feed them. What are they to do at this point? Republicans and other conservatives in this country love to spread their guilt against those that sign up for and collect welfare benefits just to support their lives. AM Radio is loaded with loudmouths that will complain in constant streams about the very little they pay in taxes for everyone's dumb-ass kids. It is, of course, no surprise that you have supported this argument and have used this device to your advantage.

And you should! Those lousy baby machine mooches! How dare they leech off the system and rob the wealthy of money they easily can pay? You and your constituency have the right to protest the losers that don't contemplate consequence and screw before thinking. If only they had a way of preventing the occurrence of pregnancy from happening, then we would be able to afford our speed boats, jet skis and other midlife crisis mobiles, instead of paying for these Jerry Springer guests to procreate. Couldn't they just control the natural and pleasurable biological need of sex and just go into the bathrooms of their trailers or outhouses to spank the monkey? Wouldn't the world be a far better place too if we were all blessed with children that roam the streets pick pocketing and looting supermarkets so they can eat. I sure hope my sarcasm makes itself clear because I cannot lay it any thicker in written words.

The solution to abort children early might seem drastic and awful but to make people not even try to plan their future families is taking the rights of Americans pursuit of happiness and throwing it to the rocks. Just because a couple have sex, that doesn't mean they have to make another $270,000 lifetime gamble. Why shouldn't we be allowed to wear a condom, put an IUD in place, or get shots until they are mentally and financially ready to have kids? Furthermore, whats wrong with the taxpayer dollar funding such preventive measures? For God's sake Rick, you don't have to be an economist to see the big expensive picture of having a child and deciding that a $5 box of rubbers is a much better investment for taxpayers than a messy, ugly $600 abortion operation or even worse a $270,000 kid. Make up your minds and pick an option that works because one doesn't always have cake and eat it in the real world.

If there is one thing I and many other Americans can't stand more than welfare brats, its having politicians take more and more liberty in deciding where we screw, how we screw and who we screw. I hate high taxes, and I know taxes go higher with every accidental miracle that didn't get pulled out and end up a stain on an air mattress. Sex isn't something that the law will have any control or regulation over. Abortion isn't a new concept or trend, its something practiced for millions of years by women frightened of raising a child in a world this fucked up or ashamed because a man either raped them or left them. Its also a question of personal health; many women become accidentally pregnant and have to make a choice of having a baby that might not last long due to birth defects or harm to the mother. It goes beyond financing a child; it becomes a question of whats worse: losing two lives or just one that barely has a shot.

I will give your "anti" stance on abortion the benefit of the doubt by saying that there should be a time limit of up to three months and then its no turning back. At which point most of you conservatives throw out the idea that most unprepared mothers should consider adoption. I don't know if you or any of the Faux News crowd are paying attention but adopted kids are not always so happy to know that someone else is raising them (I personally know people raised by adoptive parents and they're a complete mess). Doesn't it sort of seem like permanent foster parenting? Adding insult to injury is that most parents looking to adopt don't look to American children, they set sights to China or who knows where else. This isn't of course to save the kids but rather to have this accessory to buy a ticket to heaven. "Exploitation" is the word I think of. Never mind the starving and pathless children here, you have a trophy to show off (made in China too). These are the truths that flaw the industry of adoption. That's right, I said "industry" and I might spend an hour in Hell for saying that after I die.

Contraception is saving America every day. Our rights to choose what happens to our genitals is one example of the greatest freedoms we have. And you, Rick Dick Santo' almost took that right away from us and tried to make us into oppressive pilgrims. I will not let you try to tell us that populating the country with unwanted and unplanned children is God's will. I wonder at times if you or your supporters know God at all. You know the Pope and the Catholic system (not the same thing as God). If you're still not convinced of all these facts (which I am certain you aren't) then have fun wiping your ass with our rights and the rest of us can plan on breaking all those stupid little rules, the same rules you care so much about jamming down our throats.

Full: An erotic short by me...

There was no one left at the club that was worth a damn. The well of cheap wine sold at the highest markup was running dry; the clock was ticking towards closing time. So there I was, completely let down by the 'scene'. This glossy nightclub was too well lit to be serving booze and the music was too new, even for my still young ears (notice that music is too modern for its time these days). I nursed the melted ice from my last straight Cocakola, then further pondered the idea of leaving and staying in at home for the night. “Shall I just pack it in?” I pondered. This den of pretentious culture was losing points not just to yours truly but to indeed the customers of the said establishment.

As I tried to conjure an artificial flavor of rum into my watery Cola drink, I examined the remaining females in the room only to be further disappointed. They were all clones of the same female. All of them were different mind you; though all the same frame. Over these thin waifs was a cornucopia of paper doll fashions, some with jeans, some in short skirts. Some with tiny tits, others either too big for that frame or just too good to be real. As these pin thin Paris Hilton clone zombies of women either danced, sat at the bar, or shot the breeze with potential drinks or cocks; one girl began to catch my wandering eye...

She was sitting fairly close to me, no more than a few empty stools away. She was so cute and her frame showed this; she was different. No angular shapes, no offensive bone structures emerging from her skin. She was a round and full shape with all of her padding in the places it matters most. She wasn't really sitting on the bar, but rather resting one leg on a stool and resting her elbows on the bar to sip at her sex-on-the-beach. Her posing this way stressed at the blue jeans that hugged her large, round, plumb-like buttocks. The curves continued down thick thighs and calves that tapered to introduced little feet in strapped sandals. Above that plushy, sweet booty was a set of wide hips that looked perfect for grabbing onto from behind. Further up from the hips was a round body that begged for a cuddle and as my eyes progressed up, I saw a shelf of fleshy tits pushing and stressing under a low-cut-v-neck.

I noticed her face long before all of this and it was the brightest smile he had seen all night. She didn't paint herself to look darker or red-er; she had simply used some gray eye make-up to call a little attention to the windows to her soul. Her face was an even, clean slate of butter pecan peachiness and the shape of it matched the rest of her body; she had started looking at me on an off, matching each gaze my way with a 'hello, Mr. nice guy' smile. I owed it to myself to come her way and at least say “hello” back.

I sat at her nearby seat and said my nervous hello. “You've been looking at me for a long time.” Her voice rang out. She sounded quite young, but there was something in her voice that suggested that she might be intelligent. I let the bar's terrible music fill in a 2 second gap before I jumped in for a reply. I was hoping that wasn't a mistake. “Yeah.” I responded. “You're really pretty... and you didn't have anyone here with you soooo..” I stammered a bit and to recover my standing I took back the wheel in the conversation. “Is it okay if I sit here?”

She giggled. “Sure. Lets talk.” Her hand patted the seat next to her.

 A few minutes had passed and as it turned out, she was sobering up. We talked, and exchanged our names and occupations. We talked about how we ended up in such a place. We didn't have a whole lot of time as the club was closing and the bouncers took great liberty in reminding the remaining throng. We were just getting acquainted, and it looked like it was about to be cut short. She polished off her glass and grasped at her phone. This gave me an idea, and I wanted to chat with her more. She was wireless ready and obviously had a phone number. “Hey-” I called out. “Can I at least text you?” She didn't move right away, but rather just looked me up and down first. “Sure,... you seem harmless.” She replied. She waited for me to get my phone and get her name and digits in my almost empty contacts list. Her name was Anna.

I went home to my empty apartment and held on to the image in my mind of this girl. I could imagine picking her brain for hours in a hope to access her sexual side, I knew she had it. I believed by the look in her eyes that she was a closet freak. Anna didn't dress like a skank, she was actually well put together and didn't try to squeeze her plump body into clothing meant for someone half her size. There was something in her attitude that told me she wasn't stupid but she was super horny and would have enjoyed a one night stand. Unfortunately, I wasn't built to just have one nighters. So before my mind raced to conclusions, I began to unzip my jeans. I sat on my futon and felt for something rigid. My underwear was being stretched by my fleshy cock and throbbed as I caressed the vein-y sides. Dirty thoughts of Anna raced in my mind as I imagined the avalanche of tit meat from her bra coming off; I wanted to attack her jugs fervently. One could bet she liked a hard cock slipping between them and plowing her plushy titties until I covered them in sticky, gooey cum. I was interrupted with a vibration coming from my cellphone.

I panicked a little and comically scrambled to read the screen. I was delighted. “Hey its me Anna.” was in my messages. I quickly typed her back. “Hi, its me Cooper.” I typed back. I let a few minutes pass and waited for the next message. “Are you at home?” she messaged back. “Yeah” “You're really cute. Are you sure youre single.” I laughed to myself as I messaged her back. “Yes I am. And thanks btw” There was some chemistry flowing all of the sudden. She liked me and gave me her number. I could have been a stalker or someone dangerous; how would she know? Unless she had me pinned from the second she saw me, and knew that I was a harmless young guy. I wasn't what one would call a “Douchebag”. I don't treat girls like shit, I love to cuddle, even when the sex is finished. There are things that make a girl feel comfortable and I had them at my apartment. My fridge has good wine, my bed has clean sheets at all times, and my stereo system has plenty of jazz that is always good for romance. My bachelor pad was, however, suffering from women withdrawals as I hadn't hosted a guest over in months.

So what would one think I said when the next question on my phone from her read: “Can I come over? Hang out?” Before I could respond with a yes the next message on my phone was “I noticed your car in the parking lot of the club. You live right next to the club right?” A cold sweat formed on my back. She was right, I did live a short walking distance from the bar/club. “How did you know?” A minute passed. “I go to that club all the time. Your car is a silver BMW. I see it there and sometimes parked near the club.” I felt a little at ease, so much so that she did get my address. This was either going to prove to be the greatest night ever or a nightmare but I had nothing to lose. I was either going to get laid or kick a poor girl out of my place if she turned out to be a crazy stalker.

The next half hour was spent on getting the “crib” ready. Starting by putting a mountain of dirty clothes in my closet. I dug up old, but usable candles and lit them. I vacuumed, did some dishes, and sprayed the whole area with air freshener so the place smelled cleaner. After rifling through a drawer for a few seconds, I found some condoms and a bottle of warming lube. Just in case. As I picked out a DVD from my collection that would hopefully be viewed “chick friendly”, the door rang out from the metal knocker. “Hey its Anna!” A voice from beyond the door called out. I opened up the door and let Anna walk in, meanwhile, I was taken by surprise.

She didn't look the same. Anna had changed her clothes and replaced them with something that looked like pajamas but with those curve-loving jeans. To protect her chubby figure from the cold spring night, she wore a hooded sweatshirt. Though she had gone a little casual she still was so cute,... so clean. She looked around my apartment and assessed the habitat. She saw my TV and looked back over at me. “You have a nice TV.” I liked hearing her say that.

“Can I sit down?” “Oh, sure. Make yourself at home.” I agreed. She picked a spot on the futon and invited me to sit with her. I played a movie on the blu-ray and accepted her offer. We sat and enjoyed the first five minutes of a god-awful sci-fi film that I began to regret selecting and talked as if we had know each other for a lifetime. She opened like a book in those minutes; her life was a roller-coaster ride that had a highlight in France where she had spent a semester of High School and did a lot of growing up. She spoke the language of Paris and even told me her love of Van Gogh paintings. I have a giant mural replica of “Starry Nights” on my wall that covers most of my main wall; she noticed that I was a cultured individual, though I've yet to leave the U.S.

 After two hours of talk, she was thirsty. I walked over to my fridge to grab a Coke. Those seconds gave me the most powerful urges to see what lay under her hoodie. Would I get my chance? There was one strategy in my manual of getting laid: a kiss.

 Of course a kiss!

If I had done it correctly and sensual enough, I might get some of her juicy ass in my face or on my lap. I plopped myself back into my crappy sofa next to my new friend and began looking long and hard at every inch of her big, sexy bod. One of her best features was that she wasn't an amazonian that was so tall that she was scary, she was rather quite petite. As this book of a person opened she just became so much more cuter. So I asked her something bold. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” She smiled big and leaned in for a hug to accompany that kiss. I wrapped my body around hers as she returned the gesture. I felt her softness embrace me and then I slipped her my tongue as gently as I could as to not scare her. She felt me slither in her mouth and replied with wrestling my tongue in all good fun. She made a move that changed the game.

During our lip-lock, she had moved her hand toward a forming bulge in my jeans. I stopped. “Hey...” I quietly interrupted. “What are you doing?” I then said through a chuckle. Her voice sneered back. “Oh... nothing.” She began stroking what was obviously my cock ready for her to play. “Do you think I'm sexy?” I didn't hesitate. “Yes, very much.” I moved my had on her thigh and made my way to her chest. “Why do you ask?” Her mood changed slightly to explain herself. “I don't know.” She answered. “I'm not a skinny girl, as you can see. Some guys don't like that or want to be seen with me.” She might have been the smartest girl I've met in a long time, but I was more that obliged to tell her that she was wrong. She was very sexy. “Let me tell you something,” I began. “Guys love big girls. They just sometimes are assholes and don't want to be seen with them. So they opt for skinny bitches with nothing up-top or behind them. To make it worse, most of those girls are idiots. You're sexy, don't deny it.”

She looked at me and smiled big again. Her tongue lanced into my mouth again, this time making its way outside of my mouth and onto my neck. Her whispering moans groaned as I attacked her neck with my mouth as well. I don't leave hickeys, but her neck was getting wet. Along with her neck my hand could feel her warm crotch that was moistening through her denim pants. My hands treated themselves to the wonderland of her body, caressing and stroking each curve as if she was a stuffed animal. Her plump tits were in a prison of a sweatshirt hoodie and I wanted to see them free. I navigated my hands to her front zipper and slowly pulled it down. She didn't hesistate or even try to stop me, so after the hoodie was discarded to the floor, I took a gentle handful of tit. I softly squeezed one breast in each hand, gazing into her beautiful eyes.

“I want you so bad.” I confessed. “I know we just met, and this is all so soon...” “Its okay,” She whispered. “I want you too.” She unzipped my jeans and felt around for my meat. There was no stopping her as she lowered her head towards my crotch and pushed me back onto the edge of the futon. I felt a metal bar from the side of my sofa digging into my back, making me so uncomfortable, but I didn't give a damn. I continued to grab for more tit flesh as she worked my jeans open further to get my stiff rod out for her delight. “Can I suck on those tits?” She popped up and whipped her v-neck off. With 1 tug her bra came off and out came two pink, but not at all too dark, sugar-cookie nipples. They were stiff and waiting for a mouth to slather them in love spit. I hungerly suckled one tit, pinching the other and vice versa. A mighty squeal erupted from  my healthy new friend.

“Ohhh. Give me your cock!” She threw me onto the sofa and muscled her bra off. She then leaped onto me and jerked my member till the head was a purple heart. Her other hand teased my ball
sack, causing it to shrivel, perhaps loading a hot liquidy surprise for her from the cock that pulsated above. Her tongue touched the head of my heartbeat of love. She twisted around the head and kissed the tip. In one move, she engulfed the red dragon in a velvet embrace of her mouth. Her teeth was a soft grind against my love pump. Her moans gave a slight vibration to the experience. As she bobbed her round head up and down my cock, I felt euphoric. I must return this great favor. “Bring that juicy pussy over here.” I commanded.

Without missing a beat we both jumped off the crappy couch and shook out of our pants. I loved her choice of underwear in regards to panties: none. Her pussy was bald as was her entire body from the eyelashes down. She was marked with a lovely tattoo of her name on her foot. Her ass was exactly the soft, plush masterpiece I yearned it to be; wide and juicy. As we stood naked, I groped any chance at her BBW body also letting her grab and fiddle my cock while we prepared for an oral fix. She lay on top of me greedily sucking my shaft and biting it, better fueling me for my feast of her pussy. Her love tunnel was directly above me and dripping its juice into my maw. I felt her quiver between my lips, my tongue and teeth as I teased her love hole with my entire face. Her other hole called out for some tongue but I refrained from giving her a good rimming. I felt her pussy clench my finger suddenly and I began to pump faster and I added my middle finger. She unplugged my cock from her mouth and screamed. “Oh God! I'm cumming!” Her pussy convulsed and a warm squirt of juices splashed my tongue.

She exhaled and her full figure smothered me in a sea of beautiful pink flesh. She used her hand and kept right on stroking my (still) rock hard dick. I became more excited, now that I had the drug of fresh love juice in my body. I must return the favor again. Her head continued to bounce on my cock as I unloaded a 2 days saved amount of jizz into her mouth. She slowed her pace, then sucked her lips off my almost now limp member and sealed her lips together to hold in my load. As she crawled towards me, she took a gulp of my load and smiled into my eyes.  I grabbed her arms and told her to kiss me- and she did. As we kissed I tasted my cum still on her mouth and mixed it with the pussy marinade she'd given me earlier. After our cum kiss, she lay next to me and continued to thank me for such a wonderful night, but the pleasure was surely mine as well.