The pussy wants to be fed again. “Feed it to me again, meow”
“Pussy, you’re starting to smell like tuna. I think you’ve had enough, woof”
“I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough, meow”. She squirms on the stool. “Fill me up, meow”
“This is the last round, woof”
“Mixed or straight?”
“Straight outta tha can, meow”
He obliges her, and the pussy’s lips moisten with anticipation with the sound of the loud whirling. He sets it in front of her and she starts to stuff it all in.
“Hey, slow the feck down there, pussy.”
“It’sh shoo goowd!” She manages to say, while her mouth is full.
“Don’t choke on it, woof
After finishing up, the pussy is satiated and rather woozy, happily swaying back & forth. Unfortunately, she fell right off her stool.
“Alright, you’re cut off. woof”
“Yes. woof. Do you have a ride home?”
“How ’bout you give me a ride? Meow”
“Aw, god, you’re sick! woof”
There’s no telling what a wild pussy might say while on a raging, drunken tuna bender.