In-Con Sequential Art

Amour or Less


Mmm... hey girl.
I said hey, girl.
No, put your iPad down, girl.
No, look at me, girl. No, like... for longer than a second, girl.
I think we should... go... make some... have... have some... fucking.
Wood hearth screen saver on the TV
Good start, clean-shaven, Yanni CD
Flick the Bic and burn the sticks at the wick
I click a pic and turn to stick it on the Instagram tick
After dinner we can simmer down with cola and Crown
Then go to town so I can verb it to your adjective noun
I'm sorry; did I go abstruse? You know I get weirdly wordy
When this nerdy bird worries he's overheard talkin' dirty
Girl, take off your shirt, let me massage your muscles
Second thought, let's not; got the carpal tunnel
So I slowly fumble 'til we're both undressed
Apologies I got more hair on my back than my chest
Yes, yes! Don't waste a second, cuz I'll lose my erection
Double protection, two rubbers, you won't catch my infection
Plus it makes the jimmy thicker and it helps to prevent
A prematuuuuuu-! Five inches, five minutes, and I'm spent


Relax pretty Penny while I make us some brunch
I can’t consume too much, I’m eating taco for lunch
As for you, gorge yourself, cause all I got is a snack
Less you measure for your pleasure behind the back of the sack
Let’s get to your crack, well the parting of your front
Put on a Weird Al track and drop some polka yodeling stunts
I’m just a hole-eating grunt, with a drooling disability
Need a map because your furry fupa blocks visibility
Fallibility forgiven?  I think its Ginuwine time
Hop on top and ride this pony, because of my spine (sciatica)
And if you don’t mind, I need a break I gotta pee
Of course my bladder’s ‘bout to pop with the way you're rockin’ me
Now we’re on hands and knees, arhythmically workin’
You beg for harder and faster but I’m already hurtin’
So I yank out my gherkin’ and expel on your floor
That was 8 minutes, counting foreplay, and you want fucking more?

Billy the Fridge

I know I'm not the best of the best
Runnin' out of breath just caressin' your breasts
But I guess because you settled for less
I'll be makin' you moan until we're makin' a mess, yes
No rest for the wicked, the clock's tickin'
Finger lickin' fried chicken, slip in her kitchen
I'm itchin' to get it; git it, got it, good
I can chuck beaver like, "Damn, that's a lotta wood!"
But she got the nerve to call it mediocre
She's the one that chose to bone a greedy ogre
I'm goin' down on her like I'm eatin' yogurt
Stir the fruit at the bottom, and I'm feelin' vulgar
So I hold her and I whisper in her ear
"If you don't like the way that I fuck, you can get out of here!"
She ain't like that; plus it's her house
I ain't tryin' to bounce; back to eating her out


Uh... did, uh... did you come... also?