Buxom bulbs really do it for me. Not just onions. Leeks too. Wouldn’t kick a crocus out of bed for eating crisps either.
But one bulb in particular has recently gotten both over and under my skin.
Renatta-The-Onion just gets me.
I cry whenever I’m near her and everything seems so much more beautiful in her presence. More poetic. More profound.
It’s like she’s prodded my very soul and with each passing day I grow at little more at one with her.
Literally at one with her.
It’s becoming increasingly difficult to conceal this extra-marital affair from my wife. She says it’s an insult that I should display my ‘hard ons for all things bulbous so flagrantly to the masses.’ The heartless wench has even questioned the extent of Renatta’s ‘so called layers’.
It all started about 12 months ago when I decided to embark on an experiment involving my head, Regaine and Renatta. It seemed logical that a product designed to stimulate inactive hair follicles might also stimulate an onion straddling my scalp (if Rentatta could talk I’m confident she would describe herself as moderately kinky).
As anticipated, her response has been nothing short of remarkable and suffice to say, this bhaji babe gives great head. With a bit of persistence on the Regaine front, I’m hoping Renatta will eventually envelop me from the neck upward, sit fully on my face and tell me that she loves me.
Potty Paintings 
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