Cosmic Void (Man On Woman)

The tricks of the trade haunt the human condition in a way that leaves scars deeper than problematic chainsaws gone wild and by that it is clear that women shall forever be blaming the flow of blood for the transgressions of imaginary gremlins inhabiting the souls of men whom they presume to have written the manual on, and by which the warm and comfortable conclusions, so desperately craved, can be held aloft as a triumphant banner proclaiming innocence, superiority, and transcendental self righteousness despite their wondrous bosoms bouncing with ultimate freedom and beyond the control of prudishness in a manner begging the immediate placement of infinitely varied nipples into the mouths of ever silent, ever hungry, and ever willing collectors of the ultimate and delicious universal truth - yum yum to the god of oral fixation for the gift of silence shall be enjoyed only when the mouth ceases to blabber on incessantly and finds itself content with primordal moans lost in the cosmic void.