Nothing smells like sex more than fingers.

While patrolling the Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Bwog happened upon correspondence between Saint Augustine and Dante Aligheri. This is not what you learned in LitHum, ye tender first-years. Read on, but only if you dare for an adventure of love, sex…and actually yeah, mostly just sex.

My Dear Lover and Savior, Dante, I have many confessions to make.

I have genital warts.

I did not want to speak of it, for the last time that we were together truly showest me that God exists, and he has a big dick. Do you remember that time? You whispered to me “Pick up and breed, pick up and breed.” We fell into temptation, (literally, I was inside of you). I could not control myself at the sight of you. Your body was the most indulgent pear shape. I had to have you, and doing this pleased me all the more because it was forbidden.

But alas, do you remember what I voiced at climax? How I did not scream your name, but another? “MOANICA” I screamed; No it was not coincidence, it was the name of your dear sister Moanica.

And how shall I call upon my Dante–my Dante and my Lover? For when I call on you I ask you to come into me. And what place is there in me into which my Dante can come? How could Dante, the Dante who made me both orgasm and cry, come into me? Is there anything in me, O Lover my Dante, that can contain thee (penis)?

I have been weak, lusty and overall super horny. I did not know she was your sister. (I thought she was just a prostitute.) I wish I could repent, but I would probably do it again, Dante, My Lover. Such is my heart; I love my own undoing (of my pants).

How I wish I could say this to you in person. But you are always with that Vergil, and I could not say this before him. He is much too pale and seems to follow you everywhere. But know you know of my indiscretion.

Are we still on for Sunday?

Your butt buddy,

Auggie

Bwog continues to pelvicly thrust into Butler in hopes of finding Dante’s response. Stay tuned.

Hot damn via ShutterStock